Ghost Perfume | ✔

Chapter 2: See Me (Part 2)

No matter where I was throughout the day, the odd ghost kept a distance of about twenty feet.

He settled in the corners of rooms, circling sometimes, his eyes always on me. What was wrong with him?

When I finally had a quiet moment alone in an empty classroom at lunch, and I felt safe to focus the inner eye, I saw an alarming departure from other ghosts. His thread looked burnt. It was blackened in parts. And one edge of it was entirely bleached of color, like it had turned to clear plastic; I had to squint to make it out.

All my instincts said it hurt.

"Hey,'' I called. "Are you in pain?''

He frowned at me, as if he couldn't explain me.

"How long have you been stuck?'' I asked.

No answer.

He never approached too close; not in class, not on the bus, not when it was just he and I in the foyer of the quiet house.

He hovered in my line of sight, twenty feet away, in the dark dining room.

"Do you want to talk?'' I called to him, my voice inviting.

His eyes widened and he drifted closer, but then jerked back again. He stared at me, hope and worry and vulnerability warring in his thin face.

He stayed away.

I pressed my lips together. Okay then.

I'd let him come to me.

I wasn't a control freak. I was the opposite of a control freak. I let the dead come to me, and then I never dealt with them but by nudging and smiling and guiding.

The kitchen I found drowning in plastic bags that bulged mostly with chips and cans and bottles. Milk stood lukewarm in one of the bags, cheap tubs of ice cream had turned to soup, frozen steaks were defrosting and starting to bleed. I put everything away, getting depressed all over again at the thought of the party.

Tommy's friends were the worst.

Tommy I found deeply asleep in his room. He was spreadeagled on the floor; it was lucky I knew by intuition who were the living and the dead, or based on his appearance I'd have worried he was a corpse.

I supposed he was sleeping off whatever night he'd had.

Mom would've killed him for how he was hurting himself. She'd have screamed at him, and then rocked him and wept at him, and he'd have promised her anything she wanted just to get her to stop.

He'd have promised to go vegan. He'd have promised to go to med school.

I finished my homework and started readying the house for the party. I opened the windows to air the house out. I dusted and vacuumed.

The icy air blowing in felt good on my sweaty skin.

As I worked, images and moments from the day passed over my mind like clouds in the sky. One lingered long: Alexander, the neighbor - clearing my driveway! Driving me!

It was unbelievable that he owned the pub. I wondered if he owned many businesses, if he lived alone, where had he lived before he came to the house across the street.

Beer I left to chill in the fridge; snacks, cups and Tommy's collection of alcohol went on the dining room table; the box for poker on the living room table; the karaoke machine plugged in by the TV.

Then there was Lukas, lounging at the pub - he wanted to entertain me. Maybe he acted that way with everyone and I was nothing special, but he made me feel like he wanted nothing more than to put a smile on my face.