This was going to be good.

I stood up quickly.

"One moment."

I went to the kitchen window.

"RUSSELL!!!! RUSSELL!!!"

I heard a caw. I knew he heard me.

I turned back to the two ghosts.

"Russell has gotta hear this."

"Ah, Krall?" Calvin attempted to get my attention.

I sat down and got comfortable.

"Just a second, Calvin."

"Ah. But ..."

He was pointing to the kitchen window.

I nodded and poured a drink.

Suddenly I heard something crash into my kitchen window.

I jumped up.

"Shit."

I had instinctively closed the window after I called to Russell.

I opened it quickly.

"Russell? Russell?"

I suddenly felt sick. Had I been the cause of Russell's demise.

"You're an asshole."

I let out a long sigh.

"At least you're okay."

Russell appeared in the, now open, window.

"Are you an idiot or are you seriously trying to break my fucking neck?"

I sat down quickly.

"Calvin is going to tell the story of how Harold murdered him."

Russell's eyes lit up.

"Really?"

I pulled the bird tree close to the table, as Russell perched on it.

"Give us a shot of that scotch, will ya Krall."

"Seriously?"

"Damn straight."

I poured some scotch in a bowl that was mounted on the tree.

Russell took a sip.

"Good shit."

He looked to Calvin.

"Okay idiot, tell us how grease-ball there, murdered you."

"It was a freaking accident," Harold barked.

"Why won't anyone believe me?"

Russell and I looked at each other and started laughing.

I was really beginning to like this crow.

"The floor is yours, Calvin," I offered.

Calvin took a deep breath.

"It was a beautiful, sunny, summer, Sunday.

I was down at the lake, collecting specimens for a class project that myself and my beloved Ethel Sueann were doing.

I had already collected about a dozen different insects and another dozen or so plant specimens.

I was on my way back to the road, where my beloved Ethel Sueann was waiting for me. She was collecting specimens in the forest."

"Ethel Sueann was not there," Harold corrected him.

"She most certainly was. We decided to split up and cover more territory by doing both sides of the road."

Harold was shaking his head.

"Ethel Sueann was in church, like she did every Sunday."

Calvin was shaking his head.

"She skipped church."

Harold folded his arms.

"Mom and Dad are going to ground her for sure."

Russell and I looked at each other and burst out laughing again.

"You do realize that this happened like 60 years ago," I reminded Harold.

He nodded.

"I guess she isn't still grounded then."

"Anyway," Calvin interrupted.

"Like I was saying, I walked from the lake to the road. It is just a narrow dirt road that circles the lake.

When I got to the road, I called out to Ethel Sueann.

She called back. She was still in the forest, but said she would be straight there."

Calvin closed his eyes and smiled.

"I was so in love with Ethel Sueann. She was the most beautiful woman in the town.

I was daydreaming about the wonderful kisses we had shared earlier in the morning. My mind was a million miles away."

He opened his eyes quickly and stared at me.

"Suddenly I was snapped out of my daydream by the sound of loud rock and roll music, blaring over the speaker system of a car and the sound of an engine revving crazily."

Calvin turned quickly toward Harold.

Harold jumped.

Russell and I looked at each other.

"Scaredy ghosts," we both cracked at the same time.

We both started laughing.

"Like I was going to say," Calvin continued.

"I turned suddenly and there, coming straight at me...

was Harold. He was speeding, in that souped up black MTGF British sports car."

"It was an MG TD, you idiot and I was not speeding."

"You were and you were sitting in the passengers seat."

"It was a British car, you nerd asshole. The steering wheel was on the right hand side."

Me. Russell. Turned.

You get the picture.

"I never had a chance to move. He drove straight at me. His beady, blood red eyes, burning hatred."

Calvin sneered at Harold.

"He never liked me. He didn't think I was good enough for his sister."

"You weren't good enough for my sister's hamster," Harold snapped.

Russell. Me. Laughter.

I picked up the scotch bottle and held it toward Russell's bowl.

"Another, kind sir?"

"Don't mind if I do, kind sir."

I looked at Calvin.

"Please continue."

Calvin took off his glasses and wiped his eyes.

Can ghosts cry?

He took a deep sigh.

"All I remember was his evil laughter, as he slammed into me. I have a faint image of darkness overtaking me as I flew through the air.

And then I ended up here."

I looked at Russell.

"That is actually kinda sad," Russell commented.

I nodded my agreement.

"To be snuffed out so young, by a maniac, greaser in a right hand drive MG TD, English sports car."

I looked at Harold.

"That was not cool, man."

Russell agreed.

"Asshole."

Harold was shaking his head.

"That is not what happened."

"It is," Calvin snapped back at him.

"Tis not."

"Tis."

"Tis not."

Harold looked at Russell and me.

"You want the real story."

Me. Russell.

"Hell yea."