The Wild Things COMPLETE

Chapter Two

As I told you, Luca's death had a profound effect on me, as it would any little boy or girl. Suddenly there was a finality to life... an endpoint I had never considered. I began to think about death... mostly at night when the darkness and silence were complete. Incredible insomnia took over my life during this time and sleep became almost impossible.

I never considered my father's death in these terrified imaginings only my mothers. Her inevitable absence in my life was terrifying.

These thoughts of death and abandonment would drive me from my bed in the wee hours of the morning and I would tiptoe down the hallway to my parent's room and peek through the door to make sure my mother was there. I would listen to her breathing, almost buried under the snores of my father and sit with my back against the wall for hours.

This continued for weeks after Luca died and would have probably gone on for much longer if it had not been for my friend Sam.

Sam was a year older than me and lived two houses down. I had known her my entire life and as far as I was concerned she was the coolest girl in the world. Of course, that was mostly because she wasn't really like a girl at all. She was the epitome of a Tomboy. Sam loved to skateboard, ride bikes and get dirty. She was always up for running wild through the forest and playing war. But she would never be the 'girl' in our games. Instead, she wanted to be Rambo, tucking her long blond hair up in a bandana and wearing her green camo pants as she chased me through the trees or 'ambushed' me from a pile of leaves.

Sam had been away when Luca died. She and her mom had just left for three weeks in PEI the day before the accident and when I finally was able to tell her what had happened she did exactly what I had expected. She punched me.

We were sitting on my bed and I almost fell off with the force of the blow. It was a good punch, right in the shoulder, it didn't hurt much but I hadn't been expecting it. A shoulder punch was Sam's 'Go to' move in most situations but I didn't think the death of my dog would qualify. I rubbed my shoulder and she smiled at me good-naturedly.

"Aw, that sucks, Brownie." She said. She never called me Joe or Joey like all of my other friends, always Brownie because Brown is my last name. I had tried calling her Kleinburg once but she had punched me in a much worse place that day and so I had gone back to calling her Sam.

"Yeah," I answered, looking away as I felt the heat rise in my face.

"He was a good dog. So did you have a funeral or anything?"

"Not really... my dad and I put a headstone on his grave though."

Sam gave a start and looked at me with wide eyes. "What? You mean he's buried here?"

"Sure, my dad dug a hole in the backyard..."

"Holy shit, Brownie! Do you know what this means?"

"No... what?"

"Ghost dog! You might have a fooking Ghost Dog, Brownie!"

Now it was my turn to stare. The thought of ghosts had never occurred to me in all of my broodings over death. Of course, it was silly. There was no way my poor little Luca would be haunting my backyard. I told Sam this in my most casual voice, hoping to diffuse her excitement. But it didn't work.

"Luca was alive and now he's dead so there is absolutely no reason why he couldn't be a ghost Brownie. We gotta check it out!"

I saw the look in her eyes and knew it was no use arguing. Once same got an idea, it was going to happen one way or another. In the end, she would get her way so I took a deep breath and let her.