I got my bike and pedaled toward town. I secured some birthday money I had stashed in my room in my pocket. Plenty for a bus ride to Somerset. The air was cool this morning, which was a nice change. And it hummed in my ears as I gained speed.
What was I going to say to Tommy’s mother? Hello, I’ve been talking to your dead son, and he wanted me to visit you. Maybe you can help me find his father who abandoned you fifteen years ago? Yeah, right. She’d probably call the cops. If someone told me that, I’d think they were nuts for sure. But I wasn’t crazy. I didn’t think so. I was as sane as anybody else. I had to do this because nobody else was able to help Tommy. I couldn’t let him be stranded at the tracks for all eternity.
Didn’t take me long to reach the bus station, an old-fashioned one, probably built fifty years ago with its inflated columns and bright-red metal benches. Soon I sat in a cracked green vinyl seat, heading for Somerset. The bus was empty, except for a pretty blonde woman and a cute little girl with long pigtails.
I clutched the watch in my pocket like it was going to give me some answers. As the bus hummed along, I thought about how I had no clue where I was going. Somerset wasn’t a big town, bigger than ours, which wasn’t saying much. But how was I going to find Maureen Grumbine? I guessed I could go to the library and do an internet search. But I still had no idea of what I was going to say to her if I did find her.
I was glad for the cool air-conditioning in the bus. I leaned back and let my thoughts drift. I wondered if he was here. Since connecting with me, now he could go anywhere I went. Sometimes appearing to me, sometimes not. I was certain he was there and hoped he could help guide me in the right direction when I reached Somerset.
I still had a hard time wrapping my mind around this whole ghost thing. I didn’t understand it, but it was happening to me, so I knew it was true. I had a recollection of a few episodes of The Ghost Whisperer. The ghosts were stuck on Earth because of some unfinished business before they could walk into the light. I guessed I was Tommy’s ghost whisperer. I made a mental note to do some research on ghosts when I had time. How much would research help me, though?
All of this ghost stuff reminded me of an unsettling experience I had at my father’s funeral. The funeral was over. Most of the people had left, and we were saying our final goodbyes. My head hurt, and my eyes were swollen with tears; I just wanted to go home. I stood to the side while Sam was still with Mom. Large maple trees were scattered throughout the cemetery, providing shade and beauty to the final resting place. A little girl, about five or six years old, was standing by one of the trees, not far from me.
She was alone. No adults with her that I’d seen, but that wasn’t the unusual part. Her attire, a pink snowsuit, warm hat, gloves, and snow boots, out of place for the day. It was the middle of July.
I’d stared at her, and she’d stared back. She’d waved and moved toward me.
Sam had called my name, and I turned away from the girl, when he said we were leaving. I’d looked back to the girl, but she was gone. One pink glove had lain by the headstone near me. I’d read the stone. Madison Ayres. Age 6. Born August 14, 2001. Died December 31, 2007.
Had she been a ghost, too?
I’d asked Sam if he’d seen the little girl in a snowsuit in the cemetery. Of course, he hadn’t.
Why was I able to see them but nobody else could?
***
The bus rumbled into the station. I quickly stood, banging my head on the seat in front of me in the process since the bus hadn’t come to a complete stop. Rubbing my slightly sore head, I waited for the driver to open the doors to release us.
The doors creaked closed behind me. I turned to the right to walk into town. A hand pressed down on my arm. Tommy stood next to me.
“I knew you were here with me,” I said. “Why are you invisible sometimes? Like outside Mrs. Gilbert’s house?”
“I don’t know. My visibility fades in and out. I’m strongest at the tracks. Probably because that’s where I died,” he said, walking. “Mom’s address is three-twelve Oak Street. When I first died, I could still go to our trailer. I wasn’t so limited to the tracks. I saw the address written down on a piece of paper when she was in the process of moving.”
“Okay,” I replied. “This will save me some time. I had no clue where I was going. Now, what am I going to say to her?”
“Well, don’t tell her you see me. And don’t show her the pocket watch. Both of those things will freak her out. She’s not the smartest woman in the world and is very high strung. Don’t say anything that will make her nervous.”
“Then what am I going to say? What in the world could be my reason for coming here?”
Tommy pressed his lips together. “I’ve been thinking about this. I think you should say you’re my cousin. Maybe your father, my father’s brother, has some kind of illness and you need to get in touch with my father. Maybe he needs a kidney or something. My father might be a match.”
I looked at him and rolled my eyes. “Seriously? She’s going to buy that?”
“She’s into soap operas and shit like that. I think she will. It’s better than saying that you’ve been talking to her dead son and he needs your help.”
“I guess. But that story seems a little farfetched,” I said. “Why did I come here on my own? My father is too sick to travel?”
“Yes. And your mother is dead. Car accident. It’s just you and your father. You can’t bear to lose him.” He glanced at me. “I’m sorry, I know it’s kind of weird, considering how your father is gone and how much you miss him.”
“Everything about this is weird. But this is a fake father, so I can handle it. How did I find her?”
“Just tell her you did an internet search. Her father knew he had a nephew in Maidenford. You don’t know how he knew. And you saw the newspaper article about me dying. That’s how you got her name.”
“Okay. This is going to be a mess because I am not a good liar. But I’ll try.”
“I’ll be there, too. I’m going to try to snoop around while you’re talking to her. But I can’t move very far from you. I’m connected to you, and it limits where I can go. But at least I can finally get away from the tracks.”
“Okay. You’ll know if I need help by the panicked look on my face. Please interject when I start stuttering about this imagined father and his diseased kidney.”
“Will do.”
We walked the hot streets of Somerset. A pretty town, with round globe lights and large bedding displays of flowers, bursting in summer bloom, lining the pathways. An upgrade from our smaller, more run-down town. The roads along the main drag all had tree names. Elm, Maple, Pine. Didn’t take long to find Oak.
Oak trees lined the tight street—how convenient, given its name. We silently moved along. More flowerpots adorned even the side street, at the beginning. But they tapered off as the road continued. Finally, we stood in front of a tall, skinny white row home. 312 Oak Street.
My stomach churned. I didn’t want to go in there, but I knew I had to. I sucked at lying. But that was exactly what I needed to do in order to get information about Tommy’s father. I took a deep breath and slowly walked up the stairs.
“You’ll be fine,” Tommy said. “Just stick to the story we talked about.”
I nodded and rang the doorbell.
***
My knees shook when the door creaked open. A slender blonde woman stared at me. Her cutoff jean shorts and pink tank top were similar to mine, although my shirt wasn’t as tight. She looked exactly like Tommy.
“I’m not buying anything,” she said. “So don’t waste your breath.”
“Uh…no, I’m not selling anything, Maureen,” I said.
Interest flashed in her eyes. “How do you know my name?”
“I need to talk to you. About Joe Tucker.”
Maureen’s hands dropped to her sides. Surprise covered her wilted, but attractive, features. “What?”
I pushed on. I had to if I wanted t
o keep up my nerve. “I’m Emily. Joe is my uncle. My dad’s brother. I came here to see if you knew where I could find Joe. Can I come in?”
Maureen laughed and shook her head. “Oh, honey. I haven’t known where Joe was for years. If you find him, tell him he’s late with his child support payments. About fifteen years too late.”
“I read about your son. That’s how I found you. I’m sorry about that.”
Maureen nodded. “Yeah, it was too bad. But life goes on. Never knew why he spent so much time on those damn tracks acting stupid. That’s what happens when you act stupid.”
I could easily see who the stupid one was in this situation. If she had any remorse about Tommy’s death, she was hiding it well. Irritation ran through me, seeing her be so casual about it. But I was here for a purpose. I was here for Tommy.
I pushed my hand on the door. “Can I come in for a few minutes?”
She sighed and opened the door wider. “Okay. Just a few minutes. My Pop-Tart is just about ready anyway.”
I followed her into the small, but bright, kitchen. True to her word, the toaster revealed a hot pastry peeking out from its stainless-steel home. She quickly put it on a pale-yellow plate and placed it on the white wooden table in the center of the room. She sat, lit a cigarette, and stared at me.
“Sit down if you want,” she said, taking a bite of her breakfast. “I ain’t got all day to chat, you know. I have to go to work soon. Working the lunch and dinner shift at the diner today.”
I quickly sat across from her. A pile of old newspapers and an ashtray of cigarette butts lay in front of me. I glanced around the room. Tommy stood in the corner, studying his mother. “So, I really need to find Joe. My dad’s real sick. He needs a kidney transplant. Joe’s his last living relative. The doctors say he’s probably a perfect match.”
A flash of sympathy came into Maureen’s tired-looking eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that. Never met your father. Didn’t even know Joe had a brother, but that’s a real sad thing. How’d you find me again?”
“I did an internet search. Found that article on Tommy and talked to some of your old neighbors. They said you moved to Somerset.”
“Oh, anyway, I haven’t heard from Joe in years. He used to send me checks every once in a while. And birthday cards to Tommy, sometimes. I never gave them to him, though. I cashed the checks, but I didn’t want anything else from him. Tommy was just like Joe. Thought he was so smart. Smarter than me. Well, I was the one who stuck around. The one who took care of him. But he didn’t care.”
Anger seeped through me listening to her rants. Yeah, she really took care of him. That’s why he spent most of his time down at the tracks. It was the only place he felt safe. I looked to where Tommy had stood moments before. He was gone.
“But you can have the last address I have for him.” She stood. “I kept those cards. I don’t know why, but I did.”
I followed her to a sparsely furnished bedroom off of the kitchen. She walked to the closet and rummaged inside, emerging with an old shoebox.
“I put all my extra junk in this closet when I moved in with John.” She stopped searching through the box. A dreamy look came across her face. “He’s a real nice man.”
“Okay.” I didn’t care what a nice man John was or wasn’t. I just wanted that address.
She continued digging and fished out a faded yellow envelope. “Here. This is it. The last card he sent to Tommy. I think he was ten years old.”
“Why didn’t you give him the cards?”
Maureen frowned and shoved the box back into the small closet. “You sure are a nosy girl. Joe left me when I was pregnant with Tommy. A few birthday cards aren’t going to change what he did to me.”
“But wouldn’t Tommy have wanted to read them?”
“It don’t matter what Tommy wanted! It’s what I wanted. And I didn’t want him to have anything to do with his worthless father,” she yelled. “I gave you the address. Now get out. I have to go to work.”
I nodded and snatched the envelope from her. A loud crash diverted our attention to the side table next to the bed. The glass lamp that had stood on it lay in pieces on the floor.
“What the hell?” Maureen asked herself. “How did that break?”
“Thanks for the address,” I quickly said, moving swiftly toward the front door. More crashes followed. Another lamp. A candy bowl on the kitchen counter. The coffee pot hurled on the floor.
“What’s going on! Are you some kind of witch?” Maureen screamed. “Get out of my house! Now!”
I flew down the steps and raced back to the bus station. I flung myself on the bench outside, clutching the faded yellow envelope, and tried to slow my breathing. Tommy sat beside me. He was angry. I’d never seen him angry.
“How could she do this? He tried to contact me, but she hid it from me all those years,” he steamed. “All those years that I kept asking about my father. She knew exactly where he was.”
I didn’t say anything. My heart raced from the fast exit I’d made. Slowly, my breathing returned to normal.
“He sent me birthday cards. Birthday cards for ten years! She never showed me any of them. Not one.” He pounded his fist into the metal bench. “I would have never known if we hadn’t come here.”
“But we know now.” I handed him the envelope. “Do you want to look at it?”
He took the envelope from me and stared at it for a moment, sitting completely still. And I wondered if he would open it. Tommy leaned back on the bench and sighed. Thankfully, his longish hair hid his eyes from me. I didn’t want to see the pain I knew was in them.
He ripped the envelope. Inside was a standard birthday card. Red, blue, and yellow balloons on the front. Happy Birthday in red lettering. He opened it. Although, I couldn’t see his eyes, I saw the tears trickling down his tanned face. Two on either side.
He gripped the card tightly, staring at it. “He wanted to see me.”
“He did?” I leaned over to read the card.
Happy Birthday, Tommy. I’d love if you’d come to visit me this summer. I would really like to meet you. Love, Dad.
There was a phone number scribbled at the bottom.
“He wanted to meet me,” Tommy said in a low voice. He shook his head. “I just can’t believe this.”
“Well, we got what we came for,” I said. “We have an address and a phone number. And now you know your father didn’t forget about you. He wanted to be a part of your life. That’s something we didn’t think we’d find.”
Chapter Twenty
The bus ride home was crowded and hot despite the air-conditioning pumping through the vehicle. I sat next to a guy with questionable breath and a nasty cough, which continually spurted the smelly cloud in my direction. I stayed silent the entire ride home. Tommy stood beside me. But I didn’t want people to think I was talking to myself. I felt crazy enough already.
I didn’t think he wanted to talk anyway. He slouched against the green vinyl seat between me and a distressed-looking woman with two little boys. The boys were noisy and calling out every time they saw a truck. The woman, I guessed their mother, appeared exhausted. Tommy hadn’t said much since opening the card from his father, but I knew he was still upset. Anyone would be after finding out something like that. His father hadn’t forgotten about him, like he’d thought.
Maureen was exactly as I’d pictured. She’d barely even seemed upset about Tommy’s death. How could a mother be like that? I was happy, though. We had an address, a phone number, and a name. Even though they were from five years ago, we should easily be able to find Joe Tucker.
When we’d started this morning, I was confused. But now things seemed to be falling together. Tommy’s unfinished business was reuniting with his father. And I wanted to do everything in my power to make that happen. The missing parts of his life needed to be put back together before he could move on.
All of this made me think about how lucky I was in life. I had a father who’d loved and cared fo
r me. And I was able to feel that love, in physical ways like hugs and kisses. But other ways, too. By him spending time with me and listening to me. Every Sunday evening, Dad and I would do something special. It may have been going out for ice cream, playing a game together, or taking a bike ride through the neighborhood. Didn’t matter what we did. What mattered was the time we spent together. He’d ask me about school and my friends. Or we’d talk about silly things, like who’d invented the straw and how many ice cream flavors started with the letter C. I had all his attention during those outings, and it made me feel loved.
Mom and I had special things we’d do, too. Shopping at the mall on Saturday afternoons, going out to lunch, and brushing my hair before I went to bed. She used to massage my head first, then brush my hair, leaving it relaxed and my hair soft and silky. On occasion, she still did. Even though I was older now, I still loved when she did it. I was lucky to have memories of my parents. Tommy had nothing but pain and absence in his short life.
***
I hung around the trailer the rest of the day. Watched some TV, read a couple of chapters in a book. But mostly I wondered how I was going to contact Tommy’s father. I tried calling the number, but it was disconnected. Dead end. I still had the address. But if the phone was disconnected, he probably didn’t live there anymore. Plus, it was in Hershey, Pennsylvania. A town about two hours from here.
We had been to Hershey, PA, once. They had an amusement park there, and the whole town smelled like chocolate. I thought they called it Chocolate Town. We’d stayed at a cheap hotel with a great indoor pool. We rode roller coasters and ate gigantic chocolate chip cookies. Biggest cookies I’d ever seen. It was fun, and I’d love to go back again. But I had no clue how. Mom didn’t have the money to go on a trip.
No sign of Tommy for the rest of the day. At least I didn’t see him. I supposed he could have been there without me knowing it. I mean, he was a ghost. Normally, however normal hanging out with a ghost could be, I’d be creeped out thinking he was lurking around me, but that wasn’t the case. I felt comforted by his presence. Seen or unseen.
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