The summer of 1961 in Brooklyn New York, seemed to be passing fast. Sixteen-year-old Richie Nevins had done nothing but hang out in his room and draw. This youngster was a real loner. All the kids in his school called him a dud. His popular older brother, Bret, had tried helping him, but to no avail.

           When Doris and James, the boys’ parents,  asked Bret  not to get discouraged with his brother and to keep trying, he shook his head and moaned. “It’s just no use. I’ve tried every trick I know in the book to encourage Richie, but he’s too darn stubborn. You can’t imagine how embarrassing it is to be in the same school with him. He never mixes with anyone, just likes to  crawl off to some deserted corner and sketch in that darn pad of his.”

           The Nevins felt they had to do something, so one evening, they made a telephone call to Richie’s maternal grandparents and decided he should spend a couple of weeks with them in their summer bungalow they had rented in the Catskill mountains of New York.

        “There’s lots of social activities in that colony, Who knows, maybe he’ll become interested and join in,” they euphemistically thought.

         Over lots of protests, Richie was informed he had to go and was put on the bus at the Port Authority terminal in Manhattan the following day.  He arrived in the small town of Ellenville two hours later, where Grandpa Don was waiting to drive him to the bungalow.

         The Sterlings, was a well-maintained bungalow colony with fifteen buildings, each having two units. There was also a large swimming pool, tennis and basket court, softball field, a laundry room to do the wash, and a pleasant canteen and a social hall for evening recreational activities.

        Grandma Anne helped Richie unpack in the second bedroom, then made him a delicious meal, for she could see  he was hungry after the long ride from the city.

        Afterwards, it was suggested that Richie go to the social hall where the teenagers of Sterling liked to gather and dance. Riche blushed.

         “I’m not interested,” he said, grabbing his sketch-pad. “I think I’ll just explore the grounds right now.”

         Before they could say another word,  he had exited out of the back door.

         Grandpa looked at his wife and worriedly shook his head. “I don’t think him coming here is going to make any difference. He likes being a loner.”

         “It’s not such a  big deal.” Grandma Ann said. “He’s still young. When he’s ready to socialize,  he’ll find plenty of friends.”

         Don sighed. “But the boy is already sixteen. Just how long will it take for him to shape up?”

***

        Richie walked past the social hall. Music could be heard. Turning onto a small path, he stopped at an old discarded water hole, sat on a small stone fence, and started drawing.

In a few moments the youngster became totally immersed in what he was doing.

        “That sketch is  really good, ” a soft voice said. Looking up, a pretty brunette, about his age, stood next to him.

         “A, thanks,” Richie stuttered. He quickly got up, ready to leave. She gently touched  his arm. “Must you go so soon? I thought we could talk for a while. I’m Margery Whitaker.”

         Richie shrugged. “I ‘m not much of a talker.”

          “I guess you express yourself more in drawing,” she commented. “I can understand that. What’s your name?”

          “Richie Nevins,” he replied. “I just got here today.”

           Actually, for the first time, Richie wasn’t feeling too awkward.  It had never been easy for him to make friends. Usually when he was with kids his own age, they would find him boring and walk away from him after a few minutes. To make matters worse, when he became thirteen, a bad case of acne made him very self-conscious. Although, happily gone now, the damage had been done. Richie’s low self-esteem had reached a point where he didn’t neatly groom or care how he dressed, further augmenting his negative appearance.

           “Why aren’t you at the social hall dancing with the other kids?” she asked.

            Richie looked down. “Kids don’t like me. I’m a geek, totally out of it. Besides I don’t even know how to dance.”

            “Sounds like you’ve really given up on yourself.  Why don’t you let me teach you some basic steps?”

             “I’m a klutz. You’ll be wasting your time.”

             “Nonsense. Come on, let’s give it a try.”

             Humming a tune, she took his hand and moved to a clearing. It didn’t take long and soon Richie was dancing.

            Margery was impressed. “You’re a fast learner, Richie. What made you think you couldn’t dance? You’re better than most of the boys I know. All you needed is some confidence.”

            They kept on practicing until it got dark, then Margery stopped and gently gave Richie a kiss on the cheek.

             “I must leave now, although I wish I didn’t have to,” she sadly said.

              “Will I see you tomorrow?” Richie eagerly asked her.

              “Well, I’ll be away for the day, but maybe we can get together in the evening.  Promise me you will go to the social hall tomorrow and introduce yourself. I’m sure the gang will like you.”

               “Okay, I’ll give it a try.”

               The two went back on the path. Richie dropped his pad. He bent down to pick it up, but when he got up, Margery was gone.

               “I’ll see her tomorrow,” he thought, “but first there are a few things I got to do before then.”

               The next day Richie asked Grandfather to drive him into town.

                “I need to get a haircut and buy some new clothes, “he said.

                Grandpa Don gave a big smile. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re finally starting to care about your appearance.  What happened, Richie, did you meet a nice girl last night?”

                Richie gave a sheepish smile but said nothing.  After his long scraggily hair was cut and shaped, he bought some nice summer clothes in a stylish store. When returning to the bungalow, Grandma Ann gasped when she saw her grandson’s transformation. He was now a handsome looking teenager.

               With a new found confidence, Richie went to the social hall later on hoping to see

Margery, but she wasn’t there.  A group of teenagers were sitting around.

                “You must be new at Sterling’s.  I certainly would have noticed you before,” said one of the girls, who was obviously attracted to him.

                “I just got here yesterday. I’m staying with my grandparents in bungalow nine. I’m Richie Nevins. I was wondering if any of you have seen Margery Whitaker. We met last evening after dinner.”

               None of the group seemed to know her.

               “What place did you see her?” asked Brian, one of the group leaders.

                “At the old water hole down on the path.”

                “You went to the old water hole after dinner?” Brian said with a surprised look.

“You’re one brave guy, but then I don’t suppose you know about the haunting that takes place there this time of the year.”

                 “I don’t believe in such things,” Richie scoffed.

                 “Oh, but it’s true,” Brian replied. “Ask anyone here.”

                 All the others agreed.

                  “Years ago,” Brian continued, “Before the bungalow colony had a pool, everyone used the water hole. One hot evening, just before the sun set, a girl swimming there alone unfortunately drowned. Many people say her lonely spirit returns there every summer about the time she died.  Now that I’m thinking about it, I recall someone mentioning that her name was Margery!”

                Richie’s mouth dropped open. How could it be?  Finally after meeting a girl he liked, a person who gave him so much encouragement, turned out to be a ghost? Just his luck!  He felt his heart sink.

                “Think I’ll go back to my bungalow,” he sadly told them and started walking out of the social hall, but just outside on the porch he bumped into Margery gasping when he saw her.

                 “What’s wrong, Richie?  You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

                  After telling her what Brian had said, she shook her head. “Oh, he was just playing a silly prank on you. The group does it to every new kid that comes to the bungalow.”

                  Inside Richie could hear laughter, but he didn’t care. Relieved, he slowly put his hands around Margery and gave her a kiss.