He wasn’t bad-looking. For an older guy. He was an average height, a little shorter than Dad. He had sandy-colored hair and glasses. Kind of like a teacher. I thought Mom said he was an accountant. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t care if I ever saw this guy again. I hoped I never would see him again. I played the dutiful daughter. But my mind was on Tommy.
The fear that had crept through me earlier in the afternoon had changed. Even if he was a ghost, I wasn’t scared of him. He wasn’t here to hurt me. But I knew he was here for a reason. I’d always been intuitive. And while I didn’t believe, or hadn’t believed, in ghosts, I did know there were other things in this universe. Just because I didn’t understand it, didn’t mean it was not real.
Sam kept a watchful eye on me. Like I was going to flip out at any minute. I hoped he’d forget about everything he’d seen in a couple of days. But for now, I knew he’d be monitoring my every move. I’d have to wait until he was asleep to go down to the tracks. The prospect of seeing Tommy, especially now, in the cover of night, didn’t thrill me. While I wasn’t scared of him, I surely didn’t trust this situation.
After an agonizing hour and a half, Nick finally left. Mom was beaming. I could tell she wanted to talk about our meeting. No thanks. Not with me. Apparently not with Sam either. We both went to our respective rooms and closed the doors.
I lay down on my bed. I was exhausted by this day. Closing my eyes, I stretched out on my pink Hello Kitty comforter. At this point in my life, the cartoon character was beyond childish. I wanted to get the shoebox out of my closet and look at Tommy’s stuff again. But my eyes were heavy, even though it was only eight o’clock. I drifted away into a fitful sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
A loud noise woke me. I sat up, sleep still heavy in my eyes, my bedroom dark now. I wondered how long I’d been asleep. A trickle of moonlight beamed through my bedroom window. Crack! The sky lit up, and a slow rumble followed the flash. Thunderstorm. I glanced at the clock. Midnight.
I got out of bed and pulled on my sneakers. Silently, I crept into my closet and retrieved the pocket watch and the flashlight sitting on my nightstand. I opened my bedroom door and listened. Everything was quiet except for the rumbling outside. I tiptoed down the hall to Sam’s room and peeked inside. He was stretched on his stomach in the middle of the bed, sleeping soundly.
I made my way outside without incident. The storm was subsiding. I sat on the short concrete porch at the trailer’s front door. Rain fell, soft and warm on my face as I peered into the sky. I was lying to myself. I was scared to go into the woods, especially in this rainy, dark night. Terrified, actually. The rain caressed my skin and continued to fall. I welcomed its calming presence. No, the rain didn’t bother me. The darkness did. And meeting a ghost in the darkness scared the crap out of me. But I had to stop thinking of him as a ghost. Even if he was one. If I thought of him just as Tommy, I wasn’t scared. But the thought of walking into those woods, down to the tracks, in the black of night to meet a member of the undead made me want to throw up on my sneakers.
But I had to do it. I stood and walked into the woods. The rain had slowed, its steady hum lessening in the inky blackness surrounding me. I clutched the flashlight, a beacon of brightness in otherwise total darkness, and moved slowly, deliberately delaying the arrival at my destination. Halfway in, I leaned against a tree and listened. The branches hung low, their wet leaves hugging me. Muffled sounds of the woods surrounded me. An occasional owl hooting. Some scuffing in the brush in front of me. Likely an angry squirrel wanting to escape the rain. Normal sounds. I wanted to move closer. To the tracks. But my feet were cement. Stuck fast in that spot, unable to advance.
I stood there a long time. The rain stopped completely. The silvery moon appeared in the night sky. Part of it glowed through the dark canopy above me. I turned off my flashlight. The moonlight illuminated the crest of the hill leading to the tracks. I walked.
My heart raced. Faster than I’d ever felt it beating. For all my hesitation, now I couldn’t reach the tracks fast enough. I ran through the woods, the swift and smooth movements of my body bringing back my confidence. The unknown would soon be before me. I was ready to face it.
I reached the clearing. The tracks were deserted. I sighed. I’m not sure whether it was out of relief or frustration. But he’d eventually show up. I was certain of it. I needed to keep moving or I’d lose my nerve. So I made my way down to the railroad tracks and hopped up on one. Its steely strength beneath my sneakers was comforting and familiar. An old friend. I walked again.
One positive thing about summer darkness was its coolness. Fresh and damp after a warm rain, the honeysuckle growing wild along the bank lent its mellow sweetness to the late evening air. Humidity hung in the atmosphere, but not as heavy as it had been this afternoon. Instead, it almost gave me a shiver when I picked up speed on the narrow track. I kept my eyes wide open tonight. I didn’t want to be surprised by anything. Train or ghost.
I thought for sure he’d be here waiting for me. He must know I’d found out his secret. I stopped abruptly. A thought shot through my brain. Had he been watching me all day? Maybe all along he’d been watching me, studying me as I went throughout my day. A real shiver raced inside me. He only made himself known to me at the tracks or the clubhouse. But what if those weren’t the only places he’d seen me?
I turned around. I was too far down the tracks. Close to the path that trailed through the woods to our clubhouse. I wasn’t going there. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I wanted to be in my bed, safe and tucked in, like I was six years old. If he wanted to see me, he could find me. He was a ghost, for crying out loud, he could find me anywhere. I tried to walk back, but something blocked me. Nothing visible. I just couldn’t move.
“I want to go home!” I screamed into the night. “Let me go home!”
But someone didn’t want me to leave. My body lurched forward. I was running now. Straight into the dense woods.
Chapter Eighteen
The low evergreen branches slapped me in the face as I sailed down the dirt path. Instinctively, I put my hands up to block the blows. My legs pounded the well-known trail. I knew exactly where I was going. Even though I did not choose to go there. My running slowed. Control over my body returned. I bent over, panting. I surveyed my surroundings. About halfway to the clubhouse. I flicked on my flashlight. I needed it in this part of the woods. Much denser and overgrown with brush than the area behind my trailer. I shined the light down the pathway. Might as well start walking. I didn’t think I’d be allowed to go back anyway. I’d rather walk on my own than be pushed.
The flashlight bobbed while I traveled the beaten walkway through the trees. I smiled, remembering how many times Tommy and I had gone on this path. We were the reason it was so beaten down. Down to the very dirt in some spots. The clubhouse had become like a second home. At least to me. I wasn’t sure if a ghost had a home.
I rounded the bend, and the familiar sound of the creek water swishing below greeted me. I slowed my pace, parts of the sky now visible. The woods shallowed in this section. Moonlight streamed down on the grassy creek bank. Where Tommy sat.
His back was to me. His long arms stretched out behind him, fingers etched into the wild grass. I stepped on a twig, its snap breaking the cool night silence. I froze, still staring at his unmoving form. This was the boy I’d spent practically every day with for the last four months. And now I was so nervous and tongue-tied I felt as if it were our first meeting. In a way, it was our first meeting. The first time I knew his secret.
He still didn’t turn around. Just continued to lie in the grass bathed in bright moonlight. I didn’t move either. We were at a standstill. The woods around us hummed with sounds of the night. Tree frogs croaking, lightning bugs flying, and a lonely howl of a coyote in the far distance. At least I hoped it was a far distance. He shifted his weight to his right and moved his head to the side.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Another icy shiver raced through me. I considered trying to run away from him. But it would be useless. I doubted I’d even be able to run. I summoned up my courage and walked toward him. I slid down next to him in the damp grass. My heart beat wildly again, being this close to him. I’d been close to him in the past. But this was different.
He remained silent. Just sat there staring at the water flowing freely over the rocks below us. Goosebumps formed on my arms as I realized what I must do. I reached out my hand and touched his arm. He turned and smiled at me. He took my hand into his and squeezed. His warm flesh pressed against me. The heat from his body mingled with my own.
“I can feel you,” I whispered. “I don’t understand any of this.”
Tommy stroked my hair. He kept a firm grip on my hand. “I am real. At least real to you, Emily. But nobody else can see me the way you do.”
“Why is that? Why are you here?” My voice rose. I was angry at him for making me feel all these emotions I didn’t want to feel. I jerked my hand away. “What do you want from me?”
He shook his head and looked at the ground. “I wish I knew. When I died last year, I stayed exactly where my accident was, on the tracks. I was stuck in a vacuum. Some kind of time continuum. On the rare occasion someone would come down here, they couldn’t see me. You should’ve seen me trying to get their attention. Yelling, pushing them, nothing made them see me. Until I saw you.”
“How did you know I would be able to see you?” My nerves eased. The old feeling of comfort he gave me whenever I was around him returned. I’d been scared of the idea I had of him in my mind. But I knew him. Nothing to be afraid of, regardless of the circumstances.
“I watched you before approaching you. I’d given up on the idea of anyone being able to see me at this point. But there was something different about you. I just knew you were the one I’d been waiting for.”
I slid my hand into my shorts pocket. “I found this in my locker. Your old locker at school.”
He nodded, taking the watch. “I figured you would. You were busy today.”
“Do you follow me around all the time?” I hoped not.
“No, today was the first day,” he said. “I was worried about your reaction when you found out…well, that I was dead.”
“I was freaked out,” I admitted. “I still am.”
“I can’t blame you. I would be, too. You know, before you came here, I was limited to the tracks and the woods around it. I couldn’t even walk to the clubhouse, until you showed up.” Tommy squeezed my hand again. “I need you. I don’t know why I’m still here. But I do know you are the person I’ve been waiting for to help me understand. You’re the only one who can see me. And I can go anywhere you go. There’s something I need to do here, before I can move on. Will you help me?”
“Yes,” I said. I didn’t have a choice. I was the only one who could help him.
***
Tommy fingered the old pocket watch. “It was the only thing my dad left behind. I found it the last time we moved. In a box of junk. Mom wanted to throw it out. Said she would if she ever saw it again. It was the only connection I had to my father, and I didn’t want to lose it. That’s why I hid it in my locker.”
“And your letter? You never finished writing it. Were you going to send it to him?”
“Send it where? I didn’t know where he was. I still don’t. That watch is all I have of him.”
This was great. Neither of us knew why he was still here. Or how I was supposed to help him. I remembered seeing a TV show about souls being unable to move on if there was unfinished business on Earth. His relationship with his dad, or lack of one, seemed to be the unfinished business. But what was I going to do about that? I was barely over my dad’s death. And now all this stuff with my mom and her new relationship. I couldn’t even fix my own business.
I felt his stare while I played with the shoelace on my sneaker. He wanted me to have answers. And I wanted him to have them. But neither of us had any.
“I’m sorry, Emily,” he said.
I looked at him. Unshed tears shone in his blue eyes. Tears for me. And for him.
“I shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to be here anymore. And I don’t want to ruin your life.” He sighed. “I’ve never had a friend like you. Never cared about someone as much as I do for you. But all I’m going to do is bring you pain and confusion. Believe me, I wish we had met under different circumstances. Like when I was alive. I don’t know why I need you, or why you’re the only one who can help me. But I do.”
I took a deep breath and grabbed his hand. I gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I guess we’ll figure this out together.”
***
I woke up in the morning, still in my grass-stained shorts and dirty sneakers, sprawled out on my bed. I rocked my head back and forth, trying to calm the raging headache inside. I had no memory of walking home last night. Tommy must have carried me home to my bed.
Something hard pressed against my cheek as I lay back on the pillow. I lifted it. The pocket watch sat there with a crumpled piece of paper.
Please find my father, it read.
Yeah, right. How was I going to do that? Wave my magic wand and, poof, he appeared! This wasn’t going to be easy.
I rolled over and stared at the watch. There were no clues on it. Just his name, Joe Tucker, which I already knew. I didn’t know where to start.
Tommy’s mother. That’s where I should start. But how would I even find her? I considered making another trip to the library. But a better idea came to me. Mrs. Gilbert.
Mrs. Gilbert was our ancient next-door neighbor. I didn’t know how old she was. She seemed like a hundred years old to me. Her hair was gray, but her eyes and ears were sharp. She knew just about everything that went on in this little town.
I jumped from bed and walked out to the kitchen. Sam sat at the table, studying the Cheerios box.
“Hey.” He glanced up from the cereal and frowned. “You look like shit. Why do you have grass all over you?”
I brushed it out of my hair. “I don’t know.” I grabbed a banana out of the white ceramic bowl sitting in the center of the table. I quickly pulled it and took a bite. “I’m going over to Mrs. Gilbert’s.”
“What for?” Sam asked suspiciously. “What are you up to now?”
I slowly chewed the banana. “She’s a nice woman. And our neighbor.” I popped the rest of the fruit in my mouth.
“She is our neighbor, but she’s not nice. She’s a gossipy old hag.” Sam grunted. “But at least she’s a real person. That’s an improvement for you.”
I glared at him and slammed the front door on my way out.
Mrs. Gilbert lived in a trailer, too. I thought it was a newer one. Not quite as run-down as ours. But if one was judging on the tackiness quality, she won hands down. Pink flamingos stood proud in her well-clipped front yard. Wooden tulips in yellow, blue, and red lined the walkway to her front door. I’d never understand why someone would put wooden flowers in their yard. Why not just plant real ones? A fairy wind chime hung under her short porch roof, tinkling softly as a slight breeze rippled through the air. I knocked on the green door with a grapevine wreath, decked out in American flag ribbons.
Movement inside. Then the door opened.
“Oh my, the girl from next door!” Mrs. Gilbert exclaimed. “What a nice surprise! Come in. Come in.”
She was a small lady with gray hair and a large, round face. Reading glasses hung from a chain around her neck, and she always smelled like sauerkraut.
“Hi,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Of course, sweetie.” Her round face broke into a smile. “Let’s sit down and chat. Would you like some donuts? I just picked them up at the bakery this morning.”
“Sure.” I picked a glazed twist from the pink bakery box she shoved at me.
We sat at her white kitchen table. I imagined she’d gone to Hawaii at some point in her life. A set of hula girl and boy salt and pep
per shakers, a palm tree sugar bowl, and a big coffee mug that read Hawaii all sat on the table.
“So, what can I do for you?” Her bright pumpkin-colored running suit almost blinded me.
“Did you know the people who used to live in our trailer?” I took a bite of my donut.
“Oh, a tragedy when the boy died.” She shook her head. “That mother was a mess. But she was devastated when he died. So sad.”
“Where did the mother go after her son died?”
“Just the next town over. Somerset.” Mrs. Gilbert lowered her voice.
I didn’t know why since we were the only ones there.
“Moved in with a new man,” she went on. “That one always had a new man in her life. I don’t think Maureen Grumbine could live without a man.”
“Somerset.” I nodded.
“Just a twenty-minute bus ride from here. I don’t drive no more, so I take the bus over there sometimes. Their mall is a lot bigger than ours. Has one of those Auntie Anne’s pretzel stands. I do love those cinnamon sugar pretzels. You like those, sweetie?”
“Sure,” I agreed. I stood, in a hurry to leave now. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Gilbert. I really must get going. Thanks so much for the donut.”
“Anytime, sweetie. You stop by whenever you like,” she called as I sailed out her front door.
I walked back home, feeling a pressure on my shoulder. I touched it and felt something familiar. Tommy’s hand. He was with me. I imagined he was always with me. But I couldn’t see him.
“Where are you?” I whispered.
“Right beside you.” His voice in my ear.
Chapter Nineteen
The Tracks Page 8
