A Good Night for Ghosts by Mary Pope Osborne Read Free Book Online Page A

Jack.
    “Yeah, maybe I’ll try and do that,” said Dipper.
    “Great!” said Annie.
    Jack heaved a sigh and put away their book.
    Dipper stood up. “But now y’all have to get going. On the eve of All Saints’ Day, there’s a curfew forkids under thirteen. They have to be off the streets by nine, or the paddy wagon will pick ’em up.”
    “So… you’re definitely on the path to sharing your musical gift with the world. Right, man?” asked Jack.
    Dipper laughed. “I reckon I am,” he said. “Thanks to a couple of potato heads.”
    “Okay, good,” said Jack. He and Annie stood up. “To get home, we need to walk to Bourbon Street and catch a streetcar to Canal Street.”
    “Let’s go,” said Dipper.
    The three of them left the waterfront. They walked past Jackson Square and headed past the cathedral on St. Peter Street.
    “I’ll walk y’all back to Bourbon Street,” said Dipper.
    “Then do you have time to ride back with us to Canal Street?” said Annie. “So we can hang out together a little longer on the train?”
    “You know I can’t do that,” said Dipper. “They won’t let me sit with y’all on the streetcar.”
    “Why not?” asked Jack.
    “I’d have to sit in the back while y’all sit up front,” said Dipper.
    “What are you talking about?” said Annie.
    “Y’all are white. I’m black,” said Dipper.
    “So?” said Annie.
    “Black folks aren’t allowed to sit with white folks. That’s the way it is,” said Dipper.
    “Are you kidding? That’s crazy!” said Annie.
    “No, I’m not kidding,” said Dipper. He stopped walking and looked closely at Jack and Annie. “Where are y’all from? How’d you get that crazy history book with my picture in it? And why did y’all come here to find me?”
    “It’s really, really hard to explain, Dipper,” said Jack. “But just know this: one day things are going to change.
Everybody
will sit together on trains and buses and planes.”
    “And one day an African American man will run for president of the United States,” said Annie. “And millions of people—of all colors—will vote for him.”
    “And he’ll win!” said Jack.
    Dipper laughed and shook his head. “Okay, now I know I’m dreaming,” he said, “but I really like this dream.”
    “It’s the truth,” said Annie. “We promise.”
    By now they had come to the corner of St. Peter and Bourbon Street. “This is where I leave you,” said Dipper.
    Annie threw her arms around Dipper and gave him a big hug. “Good-bye, Dipper!”
    Jack did the same. “Bye, man,” he said. “Thanks a million.”
    “Same to you,” said Dipper. “Hey, there’s your streetcar now.”
    The streetcar glided to a stop at the corner. Jack and Annie hopped aboard and sat in front. As the streetcar went up Bourbon Street, they stuck their heads out the window and waved to Dipper. He waved back. Jack and Annie waved and waved, until they couldn’t see Dipper anymore.

A s the streetcar rumbled down Canal Street, Jack looked over his shoulder. Dipper was right. African Americans were sitting in the back, while only white people were in the front. Jack hadn’t even noticed it on their first streetcar ride.
    Jack’s heart felt heavy.
Why would anyone not want to sit next to someone just because they are a different color?
he wondered.
How could anyone ever be mean to Dipper? Dipper, who is gentle and friendly and kind? Dipper, who hears music everywhere?
    Jack listened to the
click-clack
of the streetcar rolling down the tracks. The sound had a good beat. Jack tapped his hand against his knee, until the streetcar came to a stop.
    “Let’s go,” said Annie.
    Jack and Annie stood up. Canal Street was bright with lights. People were still selling things on the sidewalk.
    “What time is it, please?” Jack asked the conductor.
    “Five minutes after nine, boy,” said the conductor. “Y’all better head for home.”
    “We are!” said Annie.
    Jack and Annie hopped off the