Decorus Phasmatis

“Hey, Mama,” I start helping her unpack the shopping.
“Hey, honey, how was your day?” I think about Eric.
“It was… really good.” I smile as I say it. Mum eyes me curiously.
“Oh, that’s good…”
“How was yours?”
“Oh just the usual; your father came to see me at lunch time, which was about the only remotely interesting thing that happened at work.” She is unpacking a wide assortment of vegetables.

I finish unpacking the groceries and start to head back to my room.
“Where are you off to?” my mother asks.
“My room,”
“Exciting part in your book?” I am glad my mother has thought of an excuse for me.
“Umm, yeah, that’s it,” I smile and run up the hall.

“Eric?” I whisper as I close the door behind me. I can’t see him at the moment. “Are you still here?” He appears right in front of me, inches from my face.
“Yes,” he replies with a smile. “I normally am,”
“What, in my room?” I ask.
“Of course,”
“Why?”
“I-I find you interesting.” Eric seems to blush a little bit. I didn’t know that ghosts could blush.
“All I ever do in my room is read,”
“Exactly, what did you catch me doing this afternoon?” Eric reminds me.
“Oh,” I realise. “Do you like to read?”
“When I can,” he smiles.

Eric: I did it. I’m standing right in front of Riley, and she can see me too! It is like we are old friends. She is amazing, she didn’t freak out at all. There is so much I want to ask her, to tell her. But it’s too early yet.

“How old are you?” asks Riley, tilting her head slightly as if trying to figure it out.
“Dead or alive?” I ask.
“Both,” she replies. I do some quick mathematics in my head.
“I died when I was nineteen turning twenty; but altogether I’m thirty-nine.”
“You’ve been dead about ten years,” Riley looks thoughtful. “How did you die?” This is the question I’ve been dreading. I hate think about my death. All it does is bring back memories and make me think of how much I’ve lost and how much I’ll never get back.
“Umm,” I start.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” She seems to realise what she just asked. “I didn’t even think! I’m so sorry!” She keeps apologising.
“It’s alright, I’ll tell you.” I will have to tell her at some stage if we are going to be seeing each other a lot. “I died when I was on my way to a job interview. Some lunatic drove his car into the side of my car. He broke five of my ribs and one of them punctured my lung and some other vital part of my body. So of course I didn’t get the job.” I smile, trying to make light of the story of my death.
“I’m sorry,” Riley looks at her hands. “It is really strange talking to someone who is dead. I don’t think of you as dead. You seem just like any other person, except for being translucent. That’s the only thing that gives away the fact that you might be a ghost.” I look at her. She is still looking at her hands and I realise she is longing to touch me. I am about to let her but then she speaks again.
“Why are you wearing Converse?” she asks. I smile and pull up the leg of my pants a little to show off my high tops.
“I didn’t own any formal shoes. I out grew them. I was hoping no one would notice!” Riley smiles, and then laughs. She is lying on her bed in stitches. I am laughing too.

“This is insane!” She says. She has stopped laughing. “You’re a ghost!” she doesn’t say it in a mean or hurtful way, just disbelieving. I don’t say anything. “I’m so sorry,” she apologises again. “I’m being so rude!”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “I expected much worse.”

Riley: I’ve been talking to Eric ever since I got home, except for the brief breaks when I help Mama and have dinner. He is just like a real person. I can’t believe he is a ghost. I guess it just hasn’t sunk in yet.
“I’m so tired,” I say. I am lying on my bed and Eric is sitting on the floor. I am looking down at him.
“Maybe you should get some sleep, you have school in the morning,” he says.
“But if I go to sleep, will you be here when I wake up?” I ask. I don’t want him to go.
“If you want me to be,” he says patiently. I already know I am safe with him.
“I need to get changed,” I say.
“Oh, right,” he stands up.
“You haven’t seen me-” He looks at me horrified.
“Goodness no! I’m not some kind of pervert!” With that he leaves the room, just like a ghost would, through the wall. For a moment I think I have upset him with my question, but I couldn’t help it, I had to ask. I change out of my uniform into my boxer shorts and singlet. My boxers are dark blue and have black cats and stars on them. Eric sticks his head through the wall with his eyes closed. I am glad to see him. It means he’s not mad.
“Done?” he asks.
“Done,”
“Good,” He opens his eyes and slides the rest of his body back through the wall.

I climb under my green covers and lie on my side, watching Eric. He sits on the window seat by my bed. Mum used to sit on it to read me bedtime stories when I was little. It barely ever gets used now, except on the odd occasion when I sit on it when the sun is shining through the window in winter. The sun would land right on the seat and I would sit on it and read, as comfortable as a cat, warming myself with the sun’s heat.
“Goodnight,” he says.
“Goodnight,” I close my eyes. I can feel his presence there beside me. I lie there for a while before I flick my eyes open again. Eric is still there watching me.
“Hello,” he says with a smile.
“I can’t sleep,” I say.
“Well that much is obvious. Would you like me to leave?”
“No!” I say loudly. I cover my mouth with my hand. Mum and Dad would well and truly be in bed by now, but I make sure to be quiet just in case. “No, don’t go,” I say. I’m afraid that if he leaves he won’t come back. For all I know this could all be in my imagination. I am known to have a vigorous imagination.
“What if I read to you?” he asks. I nod. He gets up and walks over to my bookcase. He pulls out my old book of fairytales. I haven’t read it for years. It is covered with dust and the cover is only still attached because of numerous layers of sticky tape. It is in terrible condition, the aftermath of overuse as a child.
“Oh,” I say as he sits down. He smiles at me. He opens to a page and starts to read.
“Wendy shared a bedroom with her brothers. She told them stories; pirates were their favourite…” I listen to the rhythm of his voice as he tells me the story of Peter Pan. He is an excellent reader. I close my eyes and it is just like I am there, fighting Captain Hook with Peter and the Lost Boys. Within an instant I am asleep.

I dream of pirates and fairy dust and a ticking crocodile. Or maybe I’m not dreaming and I’m still listening to Eric reading to me. I wake up when the sun is shining through the window into my eyes, functioning as my alarm clock. I blink a few times to wake myself up before I remember the events of the night before.
“Eric!” I cry out and sit bolt up right. I look around the room.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” My eyes fall on Eric, he is lying back lazily on the window seat. “Good morning,” I say, relaxing. He is still here.
“You had better get ready for school,” Eric nods towards the clock on my wall. I’m out of bed in a flash. I run out the door in my pyjamas. I pull on my boots and go to feed the horses. I pull a hay bale out into the paddock for them. Gunther throws his head back spreading hay everywhere.
“Yeah, you enjoy that,” I mutter at him.
“That’s a good look,” I turn around to find Eric standing at the gate. He nods towards my boxer shorts and boots.
“Shut up, I’m in a hurry,” I say. “Plus won’t someone see you?” Eric immediately vanishes. I look at the spot where he disappeared.
“I’m still here,” Eric’s voice rings from the space where I could see him a moment ago. I jump and fall on the grass. Eric laughs.
“You’re there but I can’t see you,” I say and storm past where I think he is and up towards the house.

I get changed and once I’m dressed Eric appears again.
“I have to go now,” I say. Eric nods.
“Have a good day.”
“Will you be here when I come home?”
“If you want me to be,” he says.
“Okay.” I head for the door. I stop and turn to him again.
“Can I tell anyone about you?”
“Well three of your friends already know, but you can tell anyone you think will believe you, as long as they aren’t going to rat me out to some ghost buster or something.” We both smile. I know exactly who I can tell; the only person who I can trust enough, and who won’t be frightened.
“See you this afternoon.” I look at the clock and bolt out of the house and down the driveway. The bus is waiting for me already.
“Gee, what was holding you up?” Laura asks. “We were about to leave without you!” I give Laura a look that says I’ll tell her later. I make up an excuse to keep Gina and Mandy happy.
“Oh, Cheeko jumped the fence again,” I say airily. Mandy and Gina nod in understanding. Mandy’s parents breed race horses. Her family is quite wealthy. They have a huge modern house with enough bedrooms for Mandy and her three brothers, her parents and a spare room each for Gina, Laura and I! Still, the girls prefer my house because of its character.

“So, you wanted to tell me something?” Laura and I are walking to our art class. I hesitate; should I tell Laura or not? I decide not to. Not yet anyway.
“No I didn’t,” I say without looking at her. I keep walking. Laura doesn’t push any further. That’s why she is my best friend. Gina would bug me and bug me until I told her just to shut her up. Mandy would tell me that if I need to talk she is always there and I can tell her anything. But Laura, she just lets it go. She knows I’ll tell her when I’m ready. I want to know if Eric is going to be sticking around before I tell her anything.

I sit in art day dreaming about Eric. It is so unbelievable. I have a ghost in my bedroom; he is nice and, well, attractive. I find myself painting Eric. I weave the colours of light together; contrasting them into the exact colour that shines through the window onto the window seat. I paint Eric lying on the window seat, head back and staring at the roof, arms folded across his chest. I make sure I make his converse recognisable. They highlight his character. I paint his hair, wavy and golden in the sunlight, and his eyes, my favourite shade of green. Beautiful, I think as I put the last finishing touches on the curtains. The picture is perfect. Eric’s eyes stand out in the picture with the green curtained background.

“That is magnificent!” Mr Parsons exclaims as he looks over my shoulder at my creation. “You’ve contrasted everything perfectly! Where did you get such inspiration?” He looks at me curiously, obviously suspecting a boyfriend.
“It was just an image,” I say quickly.
“Well, you should definitely enter it in the art competition in town this weekend.” I remember hearing about this contest in our last lesson. He wanted all of us to enter something. Laura told me she couldn’t be bothered, and I hadn’t given it a second thought until just now.
“Thank you, Sir,” I say. “Maybe I will.”

On the bus everyone marvels over my painting. I must admit, it is one of the best I’ve ever done.
“Wow, who’s the babe?” asks Gina. “Your dream boy?” I suddenly feel uncomfortable.
“Umm, yeah, something like that.” I turn away from them and look at my painting. But not before catching Laura’s questioning eye.

I walk up the driveway. It is peaceful. There is a slight breeze and it blows the golden grass in ripples across the empty paddocks. I decide I’m going to go for a horse ride this afternoon. I get to my room and cover the painting so Eric won’t see it. For some reason I’m embarrassed that I have painted him so perfectly. Especially since I’ve only known him for, what, twenty-four hours? And yet, I’ve obviously got him in my head.