“Depends on the ghost, their memories, how close they are to you, if they're angry or not. You have to keep them away from you. They don’t normally try to jump you,” I explained, pulling the handkerchief from my face. I picked up my sketchbook, and on the facing page, I wrote a large paragraph summing up the life and death of George McFee with his birth and death year at the bottom of his portrait. “How did you learn to do that?” he asked, watching my face.
