That evening I ate dinner with Sam and her mom. My own mother had seemed almost ecstatic when I'd asked her if I could sleep over at the Kleinburg house. I guess she thought it meant I was finally coming out of the funk I had been in over the death of Luca. She packed me off with the usual instructions to be polite and remember my please and thank you's.

Dinner was spaghetti and meatballs, my favourite, and I had two helpings as Sam watched in disgust. She didn't like the meal which Mrs. Kleinburg had obviously made especially for me.

Kathy Kleinburg was a pretty woman, at least ten years younger than my own mother who was in her mid-forties. Her hair was blond like Sam's and they also shared blue eyes and small upturned noses, but that was where the similarities ended. As I mentioned Sam was a Tomboy, rough and tumble in patched jeans and rock band t-shirts. She usually had dirt on her face and bruises on her legs. Her mother was the complete opposite. She was, for lack of a better word, delicate. She was reed-thin, looking as if a strong wind might blow her away. In the summer she always she wore bright sun dresses with her long hair hanging loose to her shoulders in light curls. She called me Joseph, which I didn't really like, but her voice was soft and sweet. When I was little, I had had a huge crush on Kathy Kleinburg and she had never tried to assuage me of it or make me feel silly. Now at the ripe old age of eleven, I considered her to be one of the most wonderful women I had ever met, which annoyed Sam to no end.

After dinner, Sam and I did the dishes and then headed down to the basement to 'allegedly' watch movies on the VCR. We put in a movie but instead of watching it Sam told me everything she had learned about séances, which turned out to be very little.

The fact that Luca couldn't speak was going to make the séance very difficult.

"Normally," Sam intoned, "you ask the spirit questions and it either speaks through one of the participants or spells out answers on a Ouija board which we don't have."

I offered to draw a Ouija board on a piece of paper but Sam looked at me as if I had grown a second head.

"Your dead dog can't spell, Brownie!"

"Oh... right," I said feeling foolish.

For the next hour, we ate popcorn supplied by Sam's mom and tried to figure out a way to communicate with Luca. It was going to be tough. Finally, we settled on simply asking Luca to bark once for yes and twice for no. I told Sam that it was not going to work but she said it was the best we could do since my dog was so dumb.

Luca was a great dog, always happy to see you when you came home, never pooping or peeing on the floor but the fact was I had never taught him any tricks. He couldn't bark on command or shake-a-paw. He didn't roll over or catch Frisbees. He was just a good friend for a little boy.

"Luca's not dumb!" I snapped.

"Well, he wasn't smart enough to stay out of the fooking road!" Sam said half under her breath.

As soon as it was out, I could tell she regretted saying it.

I felt tears in my eyes and a lump slotted itself in my throat. How could she say something like that? Sam was my best friend...

"What?" I demanded.

"Nothing..." she said turning away from me.

"Fuck you!" I said, swallowing the lump and arming the dampness from my eyes.

"I didn't –," Sam started, but then we heard her mother coming down the stairs and she stopped talking.

"Is everything alright down here?" Kathy Kleinburg asked from halfway down the stairs. Only her legs and the hem of her dress were visible on the landing.

Sam looked at me and I was shocked to see that there were tears in her eyes. One of them broke loose, rolled down her cheek and along her jawline. It clung there for a moment and then dropped onto the front of her AC/DC t-shirt. She looked down and knuckled her eyes.

"Yes, Mrs. Kleinburg, it's just the movie," I said.

The legs on the landing didn't move.

"Are you sure?" By the sound of her voice, it was obvious that my explanation didn't ring true.

"We're fine mom," Sam said, her words muffled by the hands now covering her face. I was sure Sam's mother would know she was crying but after a short pause I saw her turn and head back up the stairs.

I waited for a moment and then turned back to Sam.

"She's gone."

Sam didn't answer. Little tremors seem to run through her back as she sat on the floor with her hands over her eyes crying soundlessly.

I wasn't sure what to do, but finally, I reached out an awkward hand and patted her boney shoulder.

"It's okay... I guess he was kind of dumb..." I whispered.

Sam looked up at me suddenly. Her face a red, tear-stained mask of mixed emotions. Sorrow and something like anger seemed to be battling across her features and she spoke almost vehemently.

"No! He wasn't dumb! I'm dumb! He was the best dog in the world! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" She cried, her voice hoarse and wet. She threw herself on me then, hugging me and burying her face in my neck. I felt her tears dampening my own Rocky Horror t-shirt and one actually rolled down my back tickling as it skirted along my spine.

"It – it's okay..." I said patting her back.

She continued to sob quietly against me and I could feel the soft lumps of her small breasts pressing against my chest. My stomach did that strange flip-flop again and there was a tingling in another place that came as a complete surprise.

Minutes passed and her sobs lessened until finally, they stopped completely. Sam released me and sat back wiping her face with the back of her hand and looking embarrassed.

"...are you... um... okay?"

She nodded but wouldn't look at me.

"... are you sure?"

She drew in a long shaky breath and nodded again.

"Let's just watch the movie, Brownie..." She said quietly.

We spent the rest of the evening watching Sams new copy of Back to the Future in silence huddled close together.