Phantom Recall

44 || threads of the universe

The aftermath of Harvey's passing is about what I expected it to be. In Takashi's case, my assumptions and accusations had been based on the feelings of others, coupled with the fear-driven desire to place the whole phantom beast situation under lock and key and cast it into the depths of the ocean where I couldn't see it anymore. But with Harvey I felt it. With the clearing up of the storm, the sun seems to trail into the skies the very last of my doubts and regrets, how few and how little they were at this point. Harvey had found peace. And with that, these unfortunate souls who had been drawn to his misery and grief would have no reason to surface here anymore.

The so-called 'phantom sickness' fades over the course of the next few days. A miraculous restoration of strength to all those students who made unknowing contact with the beasts surfacing at their schools. They're no longer confined to their beds or to hospitals who had no idea what to do with them. I learn that rather quickly, the students start to express interest in returning to school, of all things. Perhaps filled with overwhelming gratitude that they have the ability to live and breathe freely again. And I find myself wanting to celebrate with them. Internally I am. What an occasion it must be to rediscover the zeal of life. The joy of realizing something you've taken for granted before it can be taken from you for good.

I take the time to visit a few of the schools in that period as well. Just for the sake of it. No more lingering, sickening taste in the air, not even around Palmwood Academy, where I had gone to school — they're still in the process of cleaning up the wreckage, I find. Although it's a shame, I overhear one of the construction workers confirming that they do plan to tear it all down after all. At least Agora Smith had been luckier with their broken windows and some torn up concrete outside the actual building. They would be fine over there. Eret's younger brother could start school next year.

Miss Sonia won't be teaching unfortunately. I also heard in my snooping around that she planned a sudden vacation — her and Javier were going to France, apparently. But I'm at least glad that they were able to stick around long enough to hear the good news of the students' recovery. I can picture the relief on Sonia's face. Javier's as well. They could enjoy their trip with the peace of mind that the phantom beasts wouldn't be endangering the lives of the children. There's no reason to prolong unnecessary misery.

Intentional or unintentional, however, Harvey had left an undeniable footprint on the earth. I can't deny that fact, nor do I believe would he if I could speak to him again. Ruben Guerrero, among others, had not been so lucky as to outlast the sickness and tasted death sooner than perhaps they were meant to. For their spirits to be drawn to and find comfort in one another, I could only hope. Or that they should be so lucky as to meet some other wandering soul in need of a little help. To be one another's spirit guides.

So little set in stone, much of the future indefinite. How fortunate, I can't help but think, the vagueness of our existences.

With how much time I spend walking the streets during those few days alone, one would think I'm more confident as to where I'm going, but I'm just as blindly reliant on my phantom homing instincts as ever. Even after all this time it still amazes me. The moment I make a mental note setting the spirit lounge as my destination, the gears in my head begin turning, and my path is traced with a thin and subtle line. I knew I would end up heading there at some point soon. It was just a matter of how long it took for me to satisfy my desire to be alone with my thoughts. And it's a lot sooner than I expected, honestly. When I look up at the moon, I don't crave the idea of being far from civilization anymore, of being somewhere out among the stars where not a soul, living or dead, could bother me. I've grown out of it.

I'm standing outside the lounge door before I realize it — it always seems that way. I've never been so absent-minded while traveling since becoming a spirit. I guess I do look at my feet a lot while walking. But I'm here now. Staring at that long, silver handle which soon disappears from view as the door is opened from the other side.