How Do I Love Thee

Four

        Brett crossed the deserted highway and walked up the steep side road that led to the yard and driveway of the old house. He was panting by the time he got to the top. Except for a lone candle that glowed by a back door next to the turret, the house was pitch black. He saw a narrow outside spiral staircase that wound up the turret and he started toward it. This is stupid, he told himself, not to mention risky. What if there's an alarm? Or a vicious dog? But he'd gone too far to stop now. He made his way up the winding stairway, careful to be as quiet as possible. By the time he reached the top, he was soaked with perspiration. He remained on a rung of the ladder just below the landing and peered onto the narrow balcony.

        Shayla was leaning on the rai,l staring at the ocean. He also saw a stool and a book, although he couldn't figure out how she read in the dark. With his heart hammering, Brett pulled himself onto the narrow walkway. "Hello" he said. "Are you planning to fly down, like a vampire bat?"

        She started and cried out.

        "Don't be scared. It's me," he said hurriedly. "Brett Noland, from the woods."

        Even in the scant light he could tell she wasn't pleased to see him. "You're trespassing."

        "I know, but I chanced it anyway because I wanted to see you again. I went out to the woods for a while, but you never came back."

        "You did?" She looked surprised.

        "You got to me, Shayla. I never met a girl with such a great pickup line." He tried humor. "I mean, most girls only have bad hair days--hardly a topic for deep conversations."

        "How many girls do you know?"

        He grinned. She was quick. "Actually, you're the only girl I've met since I moved here, and you won't even talk to me so that makes none."

        She walked to the stool, picked up the book, and held it across her chest like a shield. "But you've heard something about me, haven't you?"

        "Yes, on the day I registered for school." He didn't want to lie to her.

"        So you're here to see the Ghost Girl. Don't look surprised. I know what they call me. What else did they tell you?"

        "They said you were allergic to the Sun."

        She neither confirmed nor denied the information.

        He tried again. "I work nights. I was on my way home, and I saw you up here, so I came up to talk."

        She kept looking at him as if sizing him up. He wanted her to relax and trust him. He peered over the side of the balcony, at the jagged rocks far below. "Is this the widow's walk?"

        "Yes," she said.

        He'd read enough to know that during the whaling days, when ships went out for months at a time, wives and girlfriends went up to the rooftop balconies to watch for a ship's return. If it came with its flag flying at half-mast, it meant men had died. One of his favorite books was Moby Dick, so he knew how dangerous harpooning whales could be. "This house must be really old," he said. "And I'll bet it new plenty of widows."

        "My grandfather bought it from a 93 year old widow who lost her husband at sea. She became a recluse, and after she died people could see her ghost walking up here at night."

        "Have you seen her ghost?"

        "No. But ghosts like to keep to themselves."