Ghost of You

“Colors,” I asked, staring down at her. “You're talking about them again. What do you mean colors?”

I looked up as Crimson came out from the other room, gripping a glass of water in her hands. “What does she mean, “colors”?”

Crimson looked down at Sarah, then back at me. “You see colors, baby?” she asked Sarah, worried.

Sarah nodded, her brown hair flopping around. “Every time you're with someone, I see colors. It's different. When you pretend to mess with your crystal ball, I see a yellow color.”

“In your eyes? You see the color in your eyes?”

“No,” Sarah said, “I see it on you.”

I glanced up at Crimson, who was headed towards the bedroom.

“Quickly, Tom,” she called back for me.

I followed her through the curtains. She was rummaging around through one of her drawers. She emerged with a sketchpad and colored pencils, quickly sitting down at the table. I went over and peered over her shoulder, watching as she sketched a large stick figure in the center of a piece of paper.

“Sarah,” Crimson whispered, “is special, like you. She has a gift, like you.” Crimson took a yellow colored pencil and began to scribble around the outside of the figure. “She sees auras.”

I looked down at her. “I've heard about that before...”

“The aura tells all. Evil, liars, intelligence. The yellow, obviously, must mean something along the line of trickery, or lies. Although I see things, I use the crystal ball to enhance the feeling, since that's what most people are used to; either a crystal ball, or tarot cards. Trickery.”

“She told me today, when I lied to her about her dream, that I had a color to me. Is that what she saw? My aura?”

Crimson nodded her head, her hair bouncing on her shoulders. “I believe so.”

I stood still for a minute, watching as she closed the case to her colored pencils.

“Well, what's my gift?” I asked suddenly.

Crimson paused, twisting around in her chair, looking up at me, confusion littering her face. “You mean you really don't know?”

“No,” I said, taking a step back, “is that bad?”

“It could be!” she exclaimed. “You, my dear, have the power to see the dead. Now, I know, people have “ghost” encounters all the time. But to be sucked into their worlds, to communicate with them on a totally different level, it's a gift. Now, I'm not sure it could help others like Sarah's gift might be able to do sometime in the future, but it's there.”

“But what if I don't want it?” I asked, my eyes wide.

She tilted her head back and laughed. “People always ask that, as if they don't already know the answer.” She smiled at me. “Now, how about some board games to ease the nerves, aye?”



I slammed the door of the passenger's seat, hooking my seatbelt as Mrs. Listing pulled from the curb.

“So,” she asked, trying to be cheerful, “did you all have fun?”

“What's an oohra?” Sarah chirped from the backseat.

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks.

“A what?” Mrs. Listing asked, her gaze flickering to Sarah through the review mirror.

“I think she means aura, Mom,” Georg said, looking down at his little sister.

“Yeah!” Sarah said.

“Oh, you know, it's just... something not important,” Mrs. Listing said, trying to keep on a happy face.

“Crimson said I could see them.”

“She what?” Mrs. Listing asked, looking to me.

“No, she didn't,” I said, shaking my head. “She was explaining them to me, and used Sarah as an example, that's all.”

“Liar! 'Cause you have that color around you!”

I shook my head again. “Ever since Crimson was telling me about it, Sarah eavesdropped, and now she thinks she can suddenly see auras. Normal child behavior, I guess.”

“I knew letting you go over there was a mistake,” Mrs. Listing muttered.

“But Mommy!” Sarah whined from the backseat. “It's true. She said it's my gift, and Tomi's gift is seeing the dead!”

“Enough!” Mrs. Listing snapped, her knuckles white as she clutched the steering wheel. “Enough.” She let out a breath. “Sarah, it's not true. None of that crap Sheila, I'm sorry, Crimson, tells you is true.”

The car grew quiet. I blew out air, knowing this was going to be a long car ride home.