Ghost of You

The sun was barely visible past the horizon, the swirl of pink-and-orange nearly graceful like a ballerina. I watched as the sun's rays played on the leaves of the willow tree across the way. I drew back my curtains, looking around the barely-lit bedroom. I went to my closet and peered inside, unsure why. When everything seemed … safe? … I gathered some swim trunks, a long white tee, and some faded baggy jeans into my arms and began for the bathroom.

I tiptoed quietly down the hall and into the bathroom, shutting the door tightly and switching the light on. I blinked rapidly, letting my eyes adjust to the new light. I flopped the clothes down onto the counter, switching on the shower. I pulled off my pajamas and clambered into the bathtub, letting the warmth of the water wash over my body. I shivered and sighed, leaning my head back under the shower head, closing my eyes.



I tucked my beach towel under my arm safely and headed back into the hall. Mom's door was open a crack and I could hear light jazz music flowing swiftly from it. Without knowing why, I tapped my knuckles against her door. “Mom?” I called out lightly, holding my breath.

I heard her music pause. There was about a minute of silence before she softly called, “Come in.”

I pushed her door in, eying her up and down. She had on a red silk dress that fell just a little below her knees. Her hair was up in a neat bun atop her head. She was twisting in her small stud earrings. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and sat on her king-sized bed, patting at the sheets next to her. I bit my lip and slowly went over, letting myself fall onto the bed next to her and placing my towel in my lap. She gasped softly, “Oh!” She reached up and traced the long scratch on my cheek from where she had slapped me. “I'm so sorry Tomi,” she said, thrusting her arms around my neck and pulling me in for a tight hug.

“It's okay,” I said as she pulled back, a tear rolling across her cheek. I reached up and swiped it away with the tip of my index finger. “Why're you all dressed up?” I asked, reaching up to tuck in the tag of her dress.

“Oh,” she said again, smearing away another tear. “Gordon and I are going to visit Bill's grave today. He ran to get some flowers, then we're taking the truck over to the graveyard. Would you … would you like to come?” she asked, her eyes searching mine.

I felt a lump form in the back of my throat as the events of last night came rushing back. I now understood why I had checked my closet earlier that morning. Should I tell her about it? I shook my head, answering both my question and hers. “I'm going to the lake. Gonna see if Georg or Gustav wants to come.” She nodded her head, her smile falling a little. “But I can come if you want me to,” I added quickly.

She shook her head, patting my shoulder with her open palm. “You go. You haven't seen your friends in a long while.” She placed her hand to my forehead. “How're you feeling today?” she asked.

I nodded my head. “Fine. I don't know what happened last night,” I lied.

She shrugged one shoulder. We both listened as the idle of Gordon's truck became apparent in the driveway. “Well, if you start to feel sick at the lake, come straight home. Make sure to take your key with you.”

I nodded and stood, starting for the door. I stopped, tapping my palm on the golden door knob and turning around to look at her at the same time. She cocked her head to one side. “He's still here with us. Somewhere. I know that for a fact.”

She smiled and nodded her head as I started for the lake.