Ghost of You

The Ghost of You - Chapter 1

                 

Shermer, IL – Beginning of December 1992

"You know, I'm really startin' to get pissed off at Tom Skilling telling me it ain't gonna snow and then it does.  Like I can see the shit coming down from here!"

From his spot in the recliner, Dad could see over my shoulder outside into the front yard, which was now blanketed with a thick coating of the white stuff. Not that it is unusual here to get snow in December, but you'd hope the weatherman wouldn't lie. It happens often enough.

This is probably why I have trust issues.

"I just hope the roads are ok. You know your mother. She's a good driver,...cautious, but in the rain or snow?" He sighed before continuing, another "psst" sound from the oxygen canister at his side, "I think it's her nerves."

"Dad," I said as I watched the snow continue to fall out the front window, "She'll be alright. Like you said, she's a cautious driver."

"Defensive," he corrected. "I'm more offensive. "

"Right," I said as I directed my attention back to the news.

I hadn't wanted to come back here. I hadn't been in Shermer for longer than a weekend since I graduated from high school in '85 which was about 7 years ago, so I wasn't too keen on having to move back home for the long haul but since Dad got sick, Ma needed the help. She isn't like, an invalid or anything, but she's definitely older now and not as energetic as she was a few years ago. Seeing as my sibling couldn't possibly be bothered to move home, I was left with the task, which isn't as bad as I'm making it out to be. True, I wouldn't have come home for any other reason and I honestly don't hate the idea of having to be back at home, but it's certainly an adjustment. I've been here a month now and I'm still complaining about things; I really should know better, I mean, grew up here.

Most of the people after high school seemed to stay in the area while very few of us were able to escape at the first chance. Me, I left for the West Coast, graduated Berkeley, and immediately got a job writing for a publication. I was lucky because I was able to move up and am currently the music columnist for one of the more popular magazines on the West Coast, aptly titled "Neo Maxi Zomb-Dweebie." Stupid name, but the kids, both high school and college, eat that shit up and as long as they continue to buy it, I've still got a job. I've been able to score some really awesome stuff, like interviews with some of my favorite bands, early release stuff, concert tickets; it is a very sweet gig and considering Chicago is so close, the move hasn't affected my job too much.

"GODDAMMIT!"

I heard a shout that broke my train of thought coming from the back of the house. I looked to Dad but he wasn't startled by the sound of Ma yelling. I heard the sound of a grocery bag ripping and its contents of food tumbling to the floor.

"Probably should go help your mother," Dad sighed and looked to me. I smirked and nodded before saying, "I'm coming."

"IS ANYONE GONNA COME AND HELP ME? JESUS!" Considering it was just her, Dad, and I, the "anyone" in question was obviously me.

"I said I'm COMING," I shouted back at her before sighing and reaching down to pick up the veggies and fruit that spilled out onto the back door landing.

"Well, you know, I didn't hear you. Acknowledge me next time," and she walked past me up the stairs into the kitchen.

"I di-nevermind," I grunted before gathering as much of the groceries as I could and looking up to notice the car. "Ma?" I said loudly to get her attention but as quick as lightning, she was back on the stair case "shhing" me.