The Wildflower and the Poltergeist

∙ isaac ∙

Two months have passed since the last time Abby experienced one of those nightmares about Elise. After all, the little girl had come to her in a dream—was it really her though, or was it just Abby's subconscious trying to fool her again? Even Abby was still in the dark with her beliefs, but at least she finally stopped blaming herself for the incident with Elise. She was at peace with herself now—Elise had finally stopped haunting her dreams. Elise, Elise, Elise, Abby thought as she folded her arms on top of the counter and sighed. Nobody came in Quiet Times at ten in the morning, except for the occasional college-aged couples who would sneak in behind the aisles and shelves just to make out. Abby wondered what sort of thrill there was to it—loving in secret, that is. Wasn't that just boring? A girl with bright red highlights and a boy with pierced lips ran into the shop, seemingly unaware of Abigail's presence behind the counter and began to furiously grind each other's mouths right in front of the classic literature section. Irony, Abby mused to herself as she grimaced at the revolting display that had barged in while she was stuck in her own little world. Were these college kids even in love? Abby sighed and stood up.

"Uh, excuse me..." Abby began, only to go unnoticed. She bit her lower lip in anger and rolled her eyes. "Could you two please stop?" she yelled, but they still refused to budge. Abby was losing her patience. The ghost took note of that, so he nudged the book on the shelf right above the boy's head and allowed the sharp end of the hardbound book to land on the top of his head with a loud thud.

That must've hurt, the ghost thought as he shook his head and sighed to himself. The couple pulled away from each other, sending a melee of curses to nobody in particular. Abby almost laughed, when all of a sudden the girl glared in her direction, "What are you looking at?" she snapped. Abby slowly shook her head and said: "This isn't make out point," she paused for a moment and glanced at the book that had tumbled down and fallen on the boy's head, "Even Jane Austen agrees—and she writes romance novels." The couple only rolled their eyes at her. "Who cares? It's not like anyone visits this place anymore," the girl retorted. Abby was probably only a few years their senior, but they were in college.

Shut up, is what Abby wanted to say, but as long as they were inside the premises of the shop and weren't pointing a gun at her, they were her customers. She had to treat them with the respect they didn't deserve. "Let's get out of here," the boy said as he grabbed his little lover by the wrist and dragged her out of the store. When they were gone, Abby picked up the book that had fallen on the boy's head and returned it to its shelf. "Stupid lovebirds," she uttered under her breath as the ghost couldn't help but smile at her remark. After all they did to her, all she could say was 'stupid loverbirds.'

Abby had fallen in love once, or at least she thought she did. It was with a boy in her class when she was in her senior year of high school. He was laid-back and got along with people with as much ease as it took him to breathe, which was probably why she had fallen so hard for him. Everybody seemed to lurk around him, constantly asking for favors and talking to him about almost anything and everything. Abby simply lingered around him, their conversations limited to simple hellos and how are yous, but she was happy.

Now, she was basically loveless. Her 23-year old self would be turning 24 in two months and she still hasn't found a boyfriend—not that it mattered, right? She tried to tell herself that love was the least of her worries, but she envied all the couples who stood under the same umbrella with their shoulders bumping into one another during the rainy season. She wondered what it was like to have someone like that. She wondered what it was like to have someone look at you like you were their entire world.

She didn't realize that she already had someone like that.

Luke was trying his best not to be too obvious—subtlety is essential to being a ghost, Old Paul told him—but it was difficult when Abby was too clumsy. She wasn't the tallest person he knew out there, so she frequently stood on her toes to reach out for the books on the top shelves. The ghost was as light as a feather, being what he was, so all he had to do to help was stand on a stack of books and give whatever she was trying to reach for a gentle shove, causing it to fall straight into her hands. Abby was oblivious enough not to notice, luckily.