The Wildflower and the Poltergeist

∙ farewell ∙

Time passed by too quickly, even for the ghost. Within a year, Luke had seen and experienced a thousand different hues from hundreds of various palettes across the world. Every street and every town was a different canvass, and he explored every corner of it.

Every place sounded and smelled differently-some cities were flooded with people who spoke in a throaty dialect while some villages had more soft-spoken people. He saw the arid peaks of icy mountains and dug his toes into warm desert sand. He sat on the edge of cliffs to stare at the stars at night, and he inhaled the enticing aroma of cuisine he could never taste because of his current state. He even stopped by to visit his mother in Italy and was glad to find out that she was doing volunteer work at a local public school.

He saw people of every ethnicity and learned how to say hello in at least forty languages, but at the end of the year...he was still in love with Abigail Harlow.

When he knew that he was ready to move on to the next life, he decided to visit Old Paul for the last time and tell him what he saw. The old man missed him greatly, because he thought that he would never come back again after his expedition.

"We'll still see each other though," Luke pointed out as Old Paul let out a throaty laugh, "My apartment's still holding out. I might decide to stay for three more generations." Luke smiled at that, "Well, I hope your family's business goes well." Old Paul nodded in agreement, "So, what else do you plan on doing before you go home?" the old ghost asked, and the younger of the two understood what he meant by 'home.'

"I think...I'll go visit Abby for the last time," the ghost said. It's been a while, really, and he was wondering how she was doing, considering the fact that she has been married for a year already. By now, she was already around his age.

Old Paul sighed, "Really, boy? After all this time?"

Luke smiled sadly, "Yes. It's sad, isn't it?"

**

Old Paul told Luke about Abby's current address. She and her perfect husband Elliot were living in San Ignacio-the same city as Abby's parents-but lived in the southern, less busy parts of the city. Luke couldn't conceal how much he had been anticipating this moment. He didn't care about the fact that she was in love with and taken by another man. All he wanted was to see the smile that shut everything else out-her smile. Abigail's face was the last face he wanted to see before he left the earth for good.

They lived in a double-story house with a Spanish-tiled roof and a small, grassy garden surrounded by a typical white picket fence that kept the rest of the world away. The crumbling rock walls varied in shades-some bricks were in a deep, bloody color while some of them were shallow and a little rusty. A cluttered garden with thick, bright green grass and a pebbled pathway leading towards the front door greeted him. From outside, he could see that the curtains were drawn and that the interior of the house could give anyone the impression that whoever lived her must have been married for quite a while. Perhaps Elliot and Abigail had become one of those exemplary couples who upheld their vows, or maybe this was normally how newly-weds were. The tall, black wooden door was the only thing that separated Luke and Abby's new home. He glanced up at the beaming sun that was engraved on the upper part of the door and sighed. With a nervous smile, he entered the house.

He was greeted by a rather spacious hallway decorated with flower vases and framed oil paintings of historical events. The wooden floor was so polished that it glinted underneath the afternoon sunlight that spilled into the room from the tall glass windows on either side of the staircase at the end of the hallway. There were two white archways that led to different rooms on either side of the hall, and a shoe rack lay idly at the left side of the door.