Ghost of You

The Ghost of You - Chapter 2

"So, who'd you run into," Ma asked as her and Dad sat at the table playing rummy.

"Oh, uh, you remember John Bender?" Ma stopped paying attention to the game and looked at me as if I had said I killed the dog, but Dad was unfazed.

"You mean he's not in jail?"

"Jan, leave her alone. She's 25, she's a smart girl."

"I'm not worried about her, it's him. You remember Bender Sr."

"I do," Dad said as he placed his final set of cards on the table. It was a bit ridiculous how many sets he had in comparison to mom's three. "Rum," he said proudly and sat back in his seat to look at me and wink. I had to smile.

"Then you know how abusive he was." Mom wasn't letting up. "I remember running into his mother a couple times and she was covered in bruises. I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out the same way and I'll be damned if he'll be hanging around my daughter."

"Ma, first of all, you haven't heard that name since I graduated. Secondly, I'm not an idiot, I know, better than you, mind you, what his home life was like as I was friends with him and went to school and, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he actually didn't turn out like his dad. He actually went to trade school to fix cars." Ma looked horrified as she put two and two together. "Yeah, HE'S the John that fixed the car. He also checked the fluids and did an oil change free of charge." Dad smirked as he dealt to play another game of Rummy. "People change, Ma. Look at me. Look at Berta. (Berta was my sister.) She was ridiculous in high school and into all the reckless nonsense and now she's corporate complete with a BMW and a stick up her ass." Ma gasped but Dad chuckled a bit. "I'm fine, I promise." Ma sighed deeply before turning back to the game. "What happened," she asked Dad seeing that the old game had been cleared and a fresh one was about to start.

"I whooped your butt. Charlie, you wanna play?"

Gotta love, Dad. I get where Ma was coming from because she was partially right. If his home life was as shitty as Allison had made it out to be and judging on how he was in high school, it was safe to assume that he was going probably follow in his Dad's footsteps. She was concerned and, while I appreciated it, it, thankfully, wasn't needed. At the end of the day, I know they trust me and besides, it was just lunch...probably dinner. Nothing more, right?

That night, after dinner, I went upstairs to write a little bit but everything I came up with was absolute shit. I think I typed a paragraph or two 5-6 times before throwing up my hands in defeat and stepping away from my typewriter. As I turned in my chair away from my desk, I looked around my room and thought about redecorating. I still had quite a bit of money to buy new bedding and maybe paint? I could talk to Ma and see if she'd let me paint and redo some things, but I don't know.

I figured I'd listen to some music since that usually helped me write better but once I saw it was after midnight, I knew the folks would more than likely be asleep. I put my gigantic headphones on and went through my albums. Pulling out one at random, I took the record out of the sleeve, placed it on the turn table and started it without even paying attention to what I was listening to. There was that old familiar pop and crackle of the vinyl before my ears were filled with the sweet sound of Lou Reed singing "Satellite of Love."

I love the feeling that music brings. It tells a story, allows you to escape, or soothes whatever ails you; it speaks volumes at any volumes and even has the power to resurrect the dead-dead being a metaphor for a memory, and as I sat on my bedroom floor as I had done so many times before, I closed my eyes and thought about what had happened that day with Bender. I thought about seeing him in high school and thinking how we'd probably never hit it off as anything, friends or other.