Everything Turns to Ghost

Chapter 2

"Skippy!" Jessica dropped her phone as her hands rose to cover her mouth, her horrified eyes on the unmoving German shepherd.
"I know, he's dead," said Elizabeth in a monotone. The pony-tailed twin stood up to study the hole she'd dug up, making sure it didn't disturb the planted irises, before she dropped to her knees next to Skippy.
"Help me carry him in?" she said, glancing back at her sister from over her shoulder, her arms wrapped around the limp dog. Jessica shook her head.
"Jess," hissed Elizabeth. "Help me. My arms can't lift a thing from all the digging."
"Liz," whispered Jessica, frozen in place. "I don't believe you. Skippy died and you're all..."
"I'm all what?" Elizabeth huffed, blowing a thin strand of hair off her face.
Jessica stepped back, wanting to say that her sister was not showing any grieving signs towards their beloved dog, but she stopped in her backward tracks and just sighed, her shoulders dropping.
"Nothing," said Jessica.
Each sister carried one end of Skippy, dropping his body with its last sliver of warmth into the ground. In silence, they worked to cover the hole, Elizabeth with the big shovel and Jessica with a small one she found nearby. It was the same shovel they'd planted those irises with. She remembered they had planted them on the same week they celebrated Skippy's fifth birthday.
"Well," said Elizabeth as they climbed back to their feet, padding the last layer of dirt with her shoe. "Here goes our security system."
"Security system? Liz, he was more to us than that."
Elizabeth walked back up to the house, ignoring Jessica's remark. She opened the front door but before she went inside, she noticed Jessica's car past the gates, parked outside the property.
"Pull your car up the driveway and close the gates," said Elizabeth in that same monotone voice. "We don't want to take any risks now our guard dog's no longer here to warn us."
"Skippy," Jessica stressed, ignoring Elizabeth's instructions and climbed up the stairs to the front door instead. "What's wrong with you? His name is Skippy, and he meant more to us than a guard dog. He was a friend, but I guess you never thought of him that way. I should've known. You always referred to your frisbee playtime with him as good exercise for your legs, as if that was all your quality time with him meant to you."
Jessica hadn't noticed the tears streaming down her face until she caught her reflection in a window Elizabeth's shoulder. Elizabeth gave Jessica a stern look.
"Car. Driveway. Lock the gate. Now."
"Ugh," expressed Jessica, whirling round to take care of Elizabeth's demands.
Once the car was in the driveway and both the gate and the front door of the house were locked, Jessica stormed into the living area, where there was also an open kitchen. Elizabeth was there, pouring water in a glass.
"Liz, please, can't we talk about this?" There was a clear strain in Jessica's words.
"Talk later when you're calm. I can't handle one of your traumas right now."
"Sadness," Jessica wailed, planting her palms upon the counter next to Elizabeth's jug of water. "It's an emotion and it's called sadness. Another key emotion you might want to learn about. It could, you know, help you be able to have a conversation with me. About feelings. Not about what should be done around the house or whatever. You know, feelings could've also helped you talk to someone other than your textbooks in high school. And you could've gone out with me tonight and had some fun with friends in the city center instead of being stuck here. Your energy is suffocating the house. If I were Skippy, I'd die, too."
Elizabeth drank half her water then poured the remainder in the sink, before making her way out the kitchen area to the staircase. "I have to go shower. Good night, Jessica."
"No," cried Jessica, dashing to stand between Elizbeth and the stairs. "I'm sad, Liz, and it's not just because of Skippy. I'm sad for other reasons and if you still don't want to talk about how this house our mother and father had left us is going to have its beautiful surroundings destroyed and the grief that puts me in every day, the heartbreak I feel every time I'm driving back to the home that will never be the same again, then let's, at least, talk about Skippy. Our best friend. You can talk about that, right?"
Elizabeth sighed. "Look, I'm sad about Skippy, and believe it or not, I'm sad about the house, too. But unlike you, Jessica, I don't dwell on things. They're going to build shopping malls around our house instead of the forest, so what? I don't care. I focus on what I have now, what I can be grateful for now. Other people have it worse, this could be worse. Now, Jessica, like I said I need to go take a shower."
She passed Jessica to climb up the stairs, when a soft knock fell on their front door.
Elizabeth stopped in her ascent. "What is that?"
Still shaking from her emotional turmoil, Jessica shrugged her shoulders.
Elizabeth's eyebrows drew together in an analytical mode. She hurried down the stairs and Jessica followed her to the front door.
Elizabeth lay her hand on the door, making sure it was secured correctly and that it wasn't just the sound of the wind. Jessica leaned the side of her head against the barrier to see if she could hear anything outside.
Another knock sounded, clear this time. The two sisters stepped back and drew their faces to each other. Elizabeth's sea green eyes seemed to wonder whether she should ask who, but Jessica just bit her lip and shrugged. They could look through the peephole but it was dark outside and they didn't want whoever was there to know someone was stirring inside by turning on the garden light. Who would come all the way up here in the dead of night? It wasn't like they had any neighbors in this deserted place.
Soon, they needn't decide any longer, for the person standing outside spoke. "Wakefield? Is this the Wakefield house?"
"I know that voice." Jessica frowned, and Elizabeth shushed her.
"No, I really do," whispered Jessica. Elizabeth was about to mouth something but was interrupted.
"Hello?" the man spoke again. He sounded weak, like trying to hold himself up against physical pain.
Jessica knitted her brows together. Finally, she lowered herself on four limbs and crawled towards the nearest window. Elizabeth watched her as she, while laying as low as possible, peeked through the window.
"Oh my God. It's Terry Fae."
Elizabeth's face filled with confusion while Jessica peered out the window some more. It was no way of telling if it was Terry for sure. The dark swallowed up most of his features up, but she recognized the outline of the same crumpled sweater and jeans and the same messy hair – or hair that recently got messed up for she could recognize an expensive haircut anywhere and under any condition.
Was it the same haircut he had in that barbeque he'd posted about on social media a few years ago? Jessica remembered having looked at those pictures once or twice. She remembered it was an attractive haircut.
Unable to resist, she got up and lay her hand on the door knob. Elizabeth frantically shook her head at her.
"What?" whispered Jessica, keeping her hand still on the knob. "I'm not doing anything."
Elizabeth then pushed her way between Jessica and the door, facing it as she took control.
"Who's out there?" she shouted in the gruffest voice possible. Jessica rolled her eyes.
"Uh... Terry Fae," the man struggled out. Jessica gestured a soundless celebration for being right.
"I'm actually hurt," said Terry. "And I need help. Are you Wakefield?"
Jessica stopped her celebrating and frowned, for she didn't remember seeing him injured or hurt when she'd bumped into him earlier. Elizabeth turned to her for suggestions.
"We should let him in," mumbled Jessica.
"Are you crazy?" Elizabeth mouthed back, but then she started arguing in frantic whispers. "He snuck in here. When you left that gate open, remember? He snuck in while we were burying Skippy. He's been here for a while without us letting us know and you think you could trust him?"
"I'm sorry if I'm intruding," said Terry, as if he was in on their conversation. "I saw the gate open and I came in, looking for help. But I think passed out for a few minutes, then I woke up on your lawn. I'm hurt, like I said. Please, if you're in there, at least, lend me a phone or something."
Elizabeth looked doubtful, which caused Jessica to take out her phone. She showed Elizabeth Terry's profile page. "We know him. See? Seventeen mutual friends. Liz, come on, what if he really needs our help?"
Elizabeth thought for a moment, a crease between her eyebrows, then turned to the door and said, "How did you know about this place?"
"About your house?" His friendly chortle cracked hard, as if laughing exerted a lot of physical effort from him. "I live in the suburbs. I was driving home when my car broke down and my phone is dead." I had no idea what to do, then I remembered when, a couple of decades back, my mother used to talk all day about you guys moving to some place far outside the city."
"He talks an awful lot for an injured man," murmured Elizabeth and Jessica agreed.
"Anyway, I realized that your house is actually somewhere near my new suburban home. My mother back then had made it sound like your home was so secluded from everything else, but granted that was before the suburbs had come about." He paused. Jessica imagined he'd taken a look around the garden and outside their spear top fence, for his next words were, "A pretty secluded area yours is still. Very quiet."
"Not for long," grumbled Jessica and Elizabeth gave her a look as if to say Not with this again.
This made Jessica pretty angry, and tightening her fingers around the door knob, she looked to her sister and said, "You're not the only boss of this house," before she swung the door open.