Young Zachary Case of Grandma Jubee

By Grandpa Casey

After finding the Confederate coins,in YOUNG ZACHARY CASE OF THE CONFEDERATE GOLD, Zachary sets out to debunk Larry’s belief that his house is haunted. Larry believes his late Grandmother Jubee is haunting his house. Zachary believes Larry is trying to pull and elaborate practical joke on him and sets out to turn it around, so the joke’s on Larry. When Zachary is stumped by the clues he asks the Goth Igor for help. Follow their antics, as Larry tries to prove his house is haunted and Zachary tries to prove it isn’t. Who wins? Well you be the judge.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grandpa Casey
• Release date: Dec 6, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310858253

Grandpa Casey

I'm a retired Grandfather who likes telling stories to my Grandchildren. Now that they are older I want to share them with everyone. My books are my credentials. A percentage of the profits, from all my books, will go to ZFRF, a nonprofit organization that helps families of people with cancer. For more information on ZFRF visit www.zfrf.net

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Young Zachary

Case of Grandma Jubee

By Grandpa Casey

Copyright 2016

Smashwords Edition

This book is fictional and any depiction of a person or place is purely coincidental

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER_THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ONE

It’s Saturday morning, as I walk into the kitchen my mom starts singing, school days, school days, dear old golden rule days.   

Every year, from the fifteenth of August until school starts, my mom sings that verse when I walk into the kitchen to eat breakfast.  This has been a tradition of hers since I started Kindergarten.  Now I wish she would quit, it stopped being cute several years ago.  I totally disagree with that verse.  There’s nothing golden, about school days and can someone please tell me what a golden rule day is?  One time I countered with summertime, summertime, sum, sum, summertime, I like SU UUMER summer time and she wouldn’t talk to me the rest of the day.  Boy, some people sure are thin skinned. 

I’ll never admit it to her, but this time, I’m kind of looking forward to another year of school.  No, I don’t miss the golden rule part; but I wouldn’t mind seeing my school friends.  Everyone has them; they’re the ones who you only see at school.  The only other thing good about school starting is Major League Baseball Playoffs, the start of the Professional Football, and after that Halloween.  Oops, I forgot to mention Hockey and Basketball; the thought of Halloween around the corner distracted me. Ah yes, Halloween, the one day I can get lots of candy and it doesn’t cost me a dime.

While I’m waiting for my mom to cook the eggs, to distract myself from her singing I think about what happened last Halloween and what I plan to do this year. This year, to get the best candy possible, I’m changing my tactics. I plan to escort the neighbor’s kids. Last year, while I trick-or-treating alone, some people gave me dirty looks.  One lady told me she’s not giving me anything until I bring my son.  To my dismay, I also found that some people have two kinds of candy, the good stuff for the youngsters and generic bubble gum or cheap lollipops for the rest of us.  I’ve heard rumors, about the candy switch, but always fluffed it off as another urban legend. WELL, last year it happened to me. At least I think it didn’t happen before.

Last year, while making the rounds, I passed some trick-or-treaters. They were comparing notes about which houses had the best candy. Hearing that, I made a mental note of the houses, to make sure I visit them. I approach the first fabulous candy house and ring the doorbell. When the person opens the door and I see the bowl of expensive candy, my mouth starts to water. Before handing me some, the person with the bowl notices my height mumbles, one moment please, I’ll be right back. Returning, he puts one bubble gum and two lollipops into my bag.

This year, when I walk up to the door, with the neighbor’s kids, if someone asks why I’m holding out a bag, I’ll just say it’s for the one that’s at home.  No, I’m not lying, I’m just stretching the truth a little; the neighbor has a newborn.  After taking the candy I like, I’ll give rest to the newborn; I mean the mother of the newborn. Now all I have to do is convince Mrs. Marvelle to let me take her two and four year-old girls trick-or-treating. 

Mom finally stops torturing me with that song of hers when she answers the phone.  Hello, yes, this is she.  Uh huh, is that right, well, I’ll be.  Please, hang on for a moment.  She reaches over to the stove and she turns off a burner on the stove.  You’ll have to excuse that, I’m in the middle of making breakfast, can you repeat that again.  No, no, that’s okay, please continue.

As she hangs up, my dad asks; that was Jim wasn’t it?   You should have told him I’ll bring the newspaper over in a minute.  As he turns another page he mumbles, I swear, this paper sharing thing is getting to be a pain.

My dad and Jim, the next-door neighbor are cheapskates.  Dad gets the morning paper and the Jim gets the evening one.  After reading the morning paper, dad will drop it off, on the neighbor’s front door, and the neighbor will do the same with his.  At first everything was working beautifully, and then the state decides to repave the expressway.  Now the neighbor has to leave for work earlier and wants the paper before he leaves.  Is this aggravation worth saving a few dollars each week?  They seem to think so.

Walking up to the kitchen table, where dad and I are sitting, mom says, no, it wasn’t Jim.  It’s a good thing the both of you are sitting down, I’m afraid I have some bad news.

Dad looks at mom as he asks, it’s not the toilet again, is it?  I’ll pick up a new flush mechanism on my way home.  I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with it until then.

My mom looks at him, ooh, it’s more serious than that.

I wait for the other shoe to drop as I think, now what did I do?  She can’t be complaining about my bedroom; I spent most of yesterday cleaning it.  It can’t be about the midnight snack, can it? I made sure I cleaned up my mess and afterwards, I even washed the dirty dishes.  Wait, I know, I forgot to cut the grass yesterday.  No, that’s not the reason it rained yesterday. Oh well, whatever it is, I’m going to hear about it.  I wonder if a preemptive, I’m sorry, will help.  I never did that before, but it can’t hurt.   If it doesn’t work, it might throw her off enough to soften the blow. Here goes nothing.

Bowing my head, while trying to look pathetic, I say, Mom, I, uh, I’m…

Before I can finish, she stops me by walking up behind me and putting her hands on my shoulders, That was Mrs. Elli, a secretary of the teachers union, since along with being a teacher, I’m a union representative; she called to notify me that the contractors strike is settled.  The remodeling of the school will resume on Monday.  But, because of safety concerns, the school board extended summer vacation for an extra three weeks.  Then she leans over my shoulder to look at me.  You do realize that you’ll have to make up the lost days somehow.  The school board may have you make them up by shortening the Christmas break or eliminating spring break; they may even cancel some holidays, or they may do all of the above.  Mrs. Elli also mentioned that the school board and teachers union will meet on Monday.  In last month’s union meeting, we talked about this possibility and voted to negotiate with the school board on which days off to cancel.  At this point, nobody wants to redeem those, days by shortening summer vacation.  Then she proudly states, I’m going to suggest the union votes to strike if they decide to cancel Black Friday.  Now Zachary what is it that you’re sorry about? 

Realizing I should answer her question, I respond. Uh, oh, uh….  I forgot what I was going to say.  It’ll probably come to me later.

As she walks to the stove, to fry the eggs, she proudly says, I figured that news would leave you speechless. 

Am I disappointed?  Yeah, right, forget about looking forward to going to school, this is great news.  I know I’ll have to make up those days, but for now, it’s nice to have the extra time off.  The weather is co-operating, the days are warm and the nights are cool.  Since it rained last night and the grass is still wet, the outside chores are on hold.  After I finish breakfast, I decide to read a book.  Yes, I like to read mysteries, besides, there are only cartoons on this early and I already know the alphabet.   

While I’m looking for a book, I overhear Mom telling Dad.  If they make us work on Black Friday you can kiss Thanksgiving goodbye.  I refuse to cook all day, entertain all night and then go to work the next morning.  I could change my mind, if you tell everyone to leave by 7 P.M. and yes, that also means your parents.  Since you have that Friday off, you’ll have to wash the dishes and clean the house.  Now, when I say clean, I mean clean! Not just straighten up, like you usually do. 

After thinking about it Dad says, I’m behind you 100%, if you have to work on Black Friday then no guests.  Some other member of the family will have to step up to the task; if not, then we stay home.  Then he takes her hand and pleads.  If we stay home; can we still have turkey?  Without a turkey for dinner it won’t feel like Thanksgiving.

Mom replies, as she smiles while walking away; no problem, the grocery store should have a big sale on frozen turkey dinners. 

Dad, with a stunned look on his face, tries saying something.  Uh, I meant…, never mind. 

My mom responds with one of her favorite clichés; smart thinking.  It beats her saying, don’t even think about it, or, you know better.  

I could tell dad wants to say more, but wisely decides against it.  In this instance, that old saying, bite your tongue, holds true.  I know my dad, he’s the comeback king; he must have had a great comeback but didn’t use it.  If he keeps this up, I fear he may develop an ulcer.  Pent up tension, like what he’s displaying, can’t be good.  While I watch my dad, steaming away, I shake my head.  You poor guy, I know why you caved in so easily.  To keep the peace, I’ve done the same thing.  I can’t wait until I can give my mom and dad zingers, like those that they give my Grandparents.  I’ll probably have to live on my own first; until then its bite my tongue.

Changing my mind, about reading a book, I decide to read last night’s newspaper. While thumbing through the paper, I think, why are they doing this, Halloween is still seven weeks away.  Shouldn’t they be advertising Labor Day and having back to school sales first?  Oh, I forgot, those started after the Fourth of July.  At least they didn’t put up Christmas decorations.  I suspect they’ll do that the day after Halloween.  Doesn’t Thanksgiving count anymore? 

Speaking of turkeys, Larrie is coming home today.  I should explain; I didn’t call him a turkey because I believe he’s a fool.  When Larrie gets excited, he sometimes makes a weird sound, like a throaty gobbler.  He’s aware of it and I swear he sometimes does it on purpose.  He jokingly refers to it as his mating call.  To me, it sounds like a desperate call for help; but that’s my opinion. Lately, he’s been making that sound each time he sees his girlfriend Mia.  

The other day she told him, Larrie, either stop doing that hideous noise, or find another girl.  You may be a turkey, but I’m not.  Now, he only gobbles when she’s not around.  Once I tried joining in but I sounded like a sick rooster. 

One day, while doing my half-hearted attempt to mimic him, Larrie shouted, STOP. He put his hands on my shoulders, looked into my eyes and said, Z, if you do that again I’ll turn you into a eunuch. No one; I mean no one, should be subject to that hideous sound.  

Larrie’s due back tomorrow.  He’s in Arizona, with his Grandfather Julian.  Last year Larrie told me when his Grandmother passed away, his Grandfather went into a deep state of depression.  Larrie’s parents had his Grandfather move in with them until he felt better; that took three years. Last month Julian, as Larrie’s Grandfather prefers everyone call him, decided he wanted to go back to Arizona.  Larrie accompanied him and stayed to help him settle in.  Larrie and his Grandfather are close, because of that Larrie was concerned that being alone, in that house, might cause his Grandfather to go over the deep end.  Why he felt that way I don’t know.  Each time I went to Larrie’s house, Julian (once I called him Mister Julian and he affectingly slapped the back of my head and said; it’s just Julian) seemed okay to me.  Each time I saw him, he would always tell me a joke.  I believe he was memorizing those jokes from a joke book. 

Julian was always doing something around the house.  The man refused to stand still.  One day I saw him on a ladder painting the attic window.  As I watched him, I hoped I’d be that agile when I get to be his