"Look at that will ya?" Neil points at the field behind the barn.

 "What am I supposed to be looking at?" I poke my head out over the railing. Exasperation carries my voice from the hayloft to him down below not doing his chores.

 "Em, seriously, look out the window. I swear I just saw Mr. Ebbie sneak out of our old silo." His voice high and excited as usual.

 "Neil? Get to mucking. I’m not doing your chores again. Mr. Ebbie surely isn’t sneaking out of our old silo, that thing is about to fall down and he has his own silo." Yelling will only encourage him but I’m tired of his flights of fancy. I end up doing all the chores and he just moons about having his daydreams. Mom and Dad say it’s imagination fits and he’ll grow out of em. Lord I hope that he does soon. My arms are tired and I know I’ll end up mucking stalls too.

 "But Em, really I saw Mr. Ebbie." The whining tone starts.

 "Okay Neil, fine, you saw Mr. Ebbie sneaking out of our old silo. Can you please get to mucking? I promise when we are done with the chores I’ll go with you and look and see what’s going on out there okay?"

 "Oh Great Em!" I hear the excitement in his voice and can’t help but smile. The only thing he loves more than imagining and food is clue hunting. My fault, I used to give him treasure maps to find his toy soldiers and cars to keep him busy when I had to watch him for Mom and Dad. It kept him busy and I was able to get my homework done.

 But Neil is actually mucking. I put down the pitchfork and look over the railing at him. Bless his heart. Going at it like gangbusters and muttering under his breath. Well I’m not breaking that spell. Back to the hay for me.

 "Okay Em! All mucked and sprayed down, can we go see the old silo now?" He breaks my revere. I realize that I’m pretty much done and the pile of hay for the animals is a good size. I climb down the ladder trying to think of a way out of the trek to the old silo. Just one look at his face tells me I’m walking.

 "Okay Neil. Lead on." He takes my hand and drags me along the dirt path that leads to the old silo. Neil is prattling on about how maybe Mr. Ebbie did this or that or is hiding some treasure. I’m nodding and smiling and thinking thoughts of Bruce Campbell. He’s a dreamboat and all the girls like him. He talked to me yesterday at school. My stomach still gets butterflies thinking on it.

 "You go first Em. If he set a trap or something I can run for help quicker than you can." He would never admit to being scared.

 "Oh sure kiddo, let me get hoisted up by some weird rope trap." I laugh at him and step cautiously to the door. It’s opened a bit but that could be from the sagging of the silo. Oh wait. There are footprints near the door. Maybe Dad was out here. I lean in to pull the door open a bit more. Just as I do, the roof creaks.

 "Get back Neil! Hurry, it’s going to fall!" I yell at Neil and grab his hand and run.

Down that silo came. In all her glory, dust and cornmeal were flying. Neil stood looking about ready to bust.

 "I’ll never know what Mr. Ebbie did in there now." The abject misery in his voice almost making me laugh.

 "Oh Neil, I’m sure it was your imagination!" I tousle his hair and we start to walk toward home. Out of the corner of my eye I spot a hat moving above the wheat. I know that hat. It’s Mr. Ebbies’ hat. I challenge Neil to a race home and we get there in no time.

 He’s telling Mom all about our adventure while I wash up and go looking for Dad. I find him in the barn, feeding the animals. I tell him about Neil seeing Mr. Ebbie and how I saw his hat running away from the debris of the silo.

 "Well Em, let’s go call the constable. Mrs. Ebbie supposedly went to visit her sister a week ago and her sister showed up today looking for her. Seems no one has seen her. I think for a change Neil’s imagination fit and clue hunting are actually on the mark." He sighs, like a man taking on a burden.

 "But Dad, surely you don’t think?" There is horror in my voice. We all know how mean Mr. Ebbie was to Mrs. Ebbie though. "You aren’t going to tell Neil are you? That you think Mr. Ebbie did something bad to Mrs. Ebbie? This will just make his imagination fits last longer."

 "Em, be patient with the boy. It’s not his fault there are eight years between the two of you and he wants to impress you. If Mr. Ebbie did do something bad to Mrs. Ebbie there is no way not to tell him. Now, I know that means you’ll have to admit to being wrong about some things he says he’s seen. Like last week when he was telling us all he saw Mrs. Ebbies’ hat fly away from our field and how he saw Mr. Ebbie carrying something near our wheat the night before that. You’ll just have to put up with the "I told you so’s" from him. Now lets go make that call." Dad chuckles, as I feel miserable. Neil is going to be even more impossible to live with. And it’s my entire fault for introducing him to treasure hunts and Nancy Drew books. I sigh and follow Dad in to the house.