There was a lot of day left when I got to the cemetery. I walked near to the center and lifted my hands to the sky. “O ghouls, O terrible ghosts of the dead, send to me my living mother. Bring her forth so I can chat with her for just a mo.”

The sun dropped out of the sky like a yo-yo with a recalcitrant string. Clouds gathered, and with a series of small pops, ten or so scary ghouls appeared in a half-circle around me. My mother was the last, and she appeared in front of me wearing her blue puffy parka. “Hi, sweetie!” she said, and smiled. The other ghouls were going “woooooo” and clanking their chains. My mom looked around a little nervously and shook the chains she held, which made a sound more like an ice-cream truck.

“Mom!” I cried. “Come away from those ghouls! Come home with me! I’ll find you another book club! Please, come now!”

“Oh, sweetie, that’s awfully nice of you, but it isn’t too bad here,” said Mom. She leaned toward me and whispered, “This is really all bluff. They’re very friendly.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” said one of the ghouls in a hurt voice. “We’re scary and deaaaaad!” it directed at me, clanking loudly.

Mom rolled her eyes. “Sure, Clarence, and you got your wings from Jimmy Stewart.”