zoinks!

I picked Marta up from preschool today and one boy came up to us and said, "Hello."

"Hi," I said. "What's your name?"

"Oliver." Oliver didn't know much more English than that, but he told me in Estonian that he used to live in the United States.

"Do you remember which state?"

"One of the northern ones."

"Maine? Vermont? Michigan?"

"Um, Washington."

"Washington State?"

"Uh huh."

The teacher said his parents were studying there when he was born.

On the way back, Marta asks me from the sled (because she goes to school on a sled and comes home on a sled):

"Issi?"

"What?"

"You know those people in Scooby-Doo, like Fred and Daphne?"

"Yeah."

"What state are they from?"

"Oh God, I don't know," I said. "California, I think." Then I start thinking about California. "Do you miss America sometimes Marta?"

Marta nods.

"Tell you what. One day, we can move back there."

"I want to move back to that place where we lived before."

"Danny's house?"

"That's the first place I remember. I don't remember the rooms, but I remember I had a flowery blanket."

"I bet if we go back there, you'd remember more."

I pull her for awhile in the dark.

"Issi?"

"What?"

"What are spooks?"

Spooks? I think. Marta must have learned that from Scooby-Doo.

"Spooks are ghosts, honey," I tell her.

"But what are ghosts?"

"Well," I sigh because I know there's no easy answer. "Some people believe that a person doesn't just have a body. It has a soul. When you die, your soul leaves your body, so you can't move or talk or do anything."

Marta stares at me.

"Some people believe that when you die, the souls all go somewhere, like heaven or some place like that. But some souls don't want to go to heaven. They stay where they are and sometimes people see them. Those are ghosts."

Marta says nothing. I realize that even if I don't subscribe to one organized religion, I do believe in souls and ghosts.

"Hey, Issi, do you see that?" Marta motions through the park towards the road.

"What?"

"Those red lights."

I don't see anything. "Where?"

"Over there, look," she points again.

Now I see it. It's the lights from the radio tower of the Tartu laululava -- concert stage. They have outdoor concerts there all summer.

"I think that's the radio tower," I say.

"No, it's not," Marta says. "It's a castle!"