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"There are ghosts in the house here," I whisper into the phone to Appa.

"What?"

"GHOSTS."

"Ghosts?" he says, a smile in his voice. "Okayyy."

He thinks I'm teasing. "I'm not kidding, Appa."

"how do you know?"

"because when it rains or storms they come out, they come out in the attic, where I have my bed."

Silence.

Appa is now weirded out. He doesn't know what to say. He's not the kind of guy who believes in ghosts, and even if he did I don't think he'd be spooked by them, at least at first. Reality is more than enough for him to cope with. but even if there were ghosts where he slept, he'd probably fall dead asleep so fast that he'd be oblivious to them if they came out - either that, or his snoring would scare them off.

"Ghosts like Casper or what?" he blurts out.

"White, weird, shadowy, I don't know exactly."

"Did you tell Irene?"

"Of course she knows, it's her house," I tell him.

"Yeah, sure." Another pause. "Does it scare you or what?"

"Yes . . . and no."

"So, switch beds with Irene when it storms. Ask her to bunk with the damn ghosts."

"It's not they're unfriendly or dangerous, it's just . . . you know, weird."

"Life is weird, sweetie. You have to get used to it."

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