Ghost Soldier Read Online Free

interested.”
    He stood up suddenly and dropped the toy dinosaur on Carleton’s bed. “Well, act interested this weekend.” And he strode out of the room.
    I still felt like a geek when we got to the Great Hall, but the other two professors didn’t seem to mind how either Dad or I looked. They talked about computers and teaching and asked questions about Indiana, then told Dad how much he was going to like North Carolina.
    I just sat there not paying much attention to them, glad I could get something ordinary like a cheeseburger.
    â€œSo you like history, Alexander?” Dr. Seagraves asked, her black eyes curious.
    I mumbled, “Sure, I guess—some history, anyway.”
    â€œWell, Alexander is certainly the name for a history lover,” she said, smiling as she speared a lettuce leaf. “Alexander the Great, you know.”
    I remembered that Mrs. Hambrick said Dr. Seagraves taught history. I thought about telling her my mom loved history—she named me for Alexander the Great. But I felt funny talking about Mom in this place. So I just nodded and stuffed a french fry in my mouth.
    â€œAlexander plays the recorder,” Mrs. Hambrick said. “Another tie with history.”
    Dr. Seagraves looked at me as if I’d just done something very interesting. “That is quite an historic instrument. Does your music teacher have you play medieval rondos and ballads in class?”
    I swallowed the french fry, wondering what to answer. Everybody was looking at me. I finally said, “Well, I kind of like folk songs and stuff better.”
    â€œDon’t put the boy on the spot,” Dr. Knox said. He taught in the math department with Mrs. Hambrick. “Perhaps he just plays the instrument because he likes the way it sounds! Not everything has to do with history, you know.”
    â€œWell, we certainly have a great deal of War Between the States history around here,” Dr. Seagraves said. She didn’t seem mad at Dr. Knox for ribbing her.
    â€œCivil War, if you please,” Dr. Knox said, shaking his head. “I’ve been telling you that all year.”
    Dr. Seagraves smiled at Dr. Knox and brushed away a strand of black hair that had come loose from her long braid. “If you stay here long enough, Knoxie, you’ll get the name straight.”
    Dr. Knox snorted. “You’d know as much about that as I do. You came here from Missouri!”
    â€œRemember, my family came from North Carolina originally,” Dr. Seagraves said, frowning slightly. “They fled after Sherman’s raiders destroyed their home.”
    My eyes widened. I wondered if Dr. Seagraves had family here waiting for her all that time, cousins or great-great-great-great-nieces and -nephews or something. It was over a hundred years since the Civil War—how long did you have to wait for people to come back?
    â€œShe’s been trying to sort out the family genealogy,” Mrs. Hambrick explained.
    Dr. Seagraves pushed her plate away. “I got a chance to come here as a visiting professor, but my year’s almost up and I haven’t found anything. My mother’s grandmother was just a young girl when she left North Carolina after the War. She married a man named Andrew Harkens, but I couldn’t find any record of him. Then she died in her twenties after having a baby girl. She could never bring herself to talk about her old home or the rest of her family, and we’re not even sure of her maiden name.”
    Mrs. Hambrick nodded. “So many Southern names were lost after the War. Family lines continued, but it was the women who went on. And it’s so hard to trace your ancestors through the female side of the family!”
    Dr. Seagraves sighed. “It was foolish to come here expecting to discover hidden family secrets.”
    I thought about tracing my own family, as a student waiter took away our lunch plates and brought us dessert. I knew