by Sean Adams

“I’ve got plenty of ghosts right here,” says Milo, still skeptical.

“Well, this ghost is special. This is a ghost you’re gonna want to have in your collection.”

Milo is bit more interested. “What’s so good about this ghost?”

“Bro, it’s the ghost of Sampson Melbourne Banks.”

Sampson Melbourne Banks had been the barber in town before he died four years ago. His barber shop was located right next to the grocery store, so parents would often drop their children off at Sampson’s to get a trim, while they got the week’s grocery shopping done. At nearly eighty years old, Sampson wasn’t the greatest barber, but he did a good job at striking fear into the hearts of young boys. “You best sit very still, son,” he’d say. “These scissors got a mind a there own. If ya start squirming around, they’ll get angry and go straight for your ear.” Needless to say, little
boys sat very still for Sampson. His favorite joke to open a hair cut was: “I’ll trim your hair for a fee, but I’ll nip off a few a your fingers for no extra charge.” Then he would let out a laugh so deep and cavernous that it only scared the children more.

Milo, Tim and Mark’s moms often went grocery shopping at the same time, so on more than one occasion, Milo remembers playing rock-paper-scissors to see who would have to take one for the team and step up to the seat first.
“Come on now boys, what’s so scary about a crazy old man with a pair of sharp scissors,” Sampson would say, following it with that wild laugh, breaking off in a coughing fit and causing the game of rock-paper-scissors to gain intensity. Somehow Milo would always end up going first. To this day, he’s convinced that Tim and Mark cheated, but has no idea how it is possible to cheat at rock-paper-scissors.

The sun is going down as Milo rides his bike to Tim’s house, so Milo flips on the battery-powered headlight clipped onto the handlebars. Tim is sitting outside on a rocking chair. He gets up when he sees Milo ride in.

“You bring a jar?” Tim asks.

Milo takes off his backpack and reaches in, bringing out a large glass jam jar shaped like a teddy bear with a gold lid.

"I’ve been saving this one for a special occasion, like if I found the ghost of my grandfather or something, but this is even better,” Milo explains.

“Bro, that jar is pretty small,” Says Tim as they go inside.

“What are you talking about, dude?”

“Well, Sampson was a big guy.”

“Ghosts shrink.”

“Are you sure? Because this seems like a pretty big ghost.”