“Do you think there’s ghosts?”

Javier Arizabalo “Do you think there’s ghosts?” He didn’t look at her but rather peered down the street, watching, waiting, hoping for someone to kill.
“I don’t know, Francis, perhaps.” She thought about it and decided to talk a little, hoping it might calm him down. “You know, in our country, we are Catholic. But there is the pagan celebration, el Día de los Muertos, the day of the dead.”
Francis grinned. He always liked to hear about things of which he knew nothing. She continued. “Many people believe that the dead are among us all the time, and many even set a table for them, just as if they were alive.”
“And you, do you do this, Mamacita?”
“No, Francis. I would have to have a table that was as long as the barracks to accommodate so many of my dead.” She smiled and crossed herself. Allingham