by Cassie Allee
“Is something wrong?” He said, breaking me out of my trance.
“Um…What?” Clever Marlee…
“It’s just… You look a little scared, or hungry…or something.”
“Oh no, I’m okay. I’m just scared of being hungry…it’s a phobia.” Oh my Lord Marlee you are such an idiot!!!
Gray, who was witnessing my melt down from mere inches away, burst out laughing at me. After one look at him I could hardly contain my own laughter. I decided that I had to make the decision to laugh, or look constipated trying to hold it in, so I laughed.
Gray and I laughed until there were tears in our eyes and then it dawned on me that I appeared to be laughing at my own weirdness in front of Risk! Oh no! I halted my laughter and was prepping myself to see another person run in fear of me, but instead I noticed something completely unexpected. Risk was laughing at me! As I sat there watching him laugh at me, my cheeks started to heat with embarrassment, and that made me angry. How dare he come over here and laugh at me as a way to get into the “in crowd!” Who cares about those douche bags anyway? So before I could make a complete fool of myself, I ran away and ducked into a women’s bathroom. I knew that the rest of the day was going to draaaaaag on.
By the time I made it to work I was completely exhausted. I didn’t really have any friends, but if I did than I would consider the girls at work to be my closest ones, besides Gray. After Gray settled into a seat next to the prettiest girl in Rocktop I made my way over to the huddle of the other bar employees. The girls all smiled my way and I realized that it was nice that none of these girls had ever thrown milk or a slushy at me. Slushy’s were the worst because they stained my clothes, but they had become a popular liquid for torture after the show Glee started to air. Apparently it was much funnier than milk or water because it had been done on TV. It didn’t seem very funny at all to me.
The curvy blonde waitress, Remi, was my favorite. She had a morbid sense of humor and she had an easy going attitude. No matter what rude comments I heard some of the customers say to her she just let it roll right off of her shoulders and laughed about it. She was Gray’s favorite too, and I could see why. Remi has platinum blonde hair that hangs straight to her waist. She only ever wore a modest amount of makeup, but her face was flawless. Her lips were always a pretty pale pink color and her cheeks had a natural blush to them. She was also curvy in all the right places. Looking at her reminded me of how painfully plain I was.
My uniform helped with my curves, but it didn’t keep me from fading into the background. My hair is long too, but only hangs to my bra line, and my face always looked pale. My eyes are big and brown, the color of mud, and seemed to be much too big for my face. Every time I looked into the mirror I thought that my eyes gave me a look of constant surprise, even when I had just rolled out of bed. My lips are almost the same color as my face so that made my eyes my most prominent facial feature. I’m not thin, but I was happy with my figure at least. I’m a size 6, which the models say is plus sized but I think it’s a healthy size, and my boobs are on the larger side. I was actually pretty self-conscious of my chest because my hips (or lack thereof) barely kept my jeans from falling down. Working at a sports bar and not having a good caboose could really hurt your tips, but I guess my boobs made up for it. The thing that I loved the most about my appearance was my hair. I thought that it was a good length and most days it was super shiny, which I thought was strange because it isn’t straight, like Remi’s, but rather wavy, and it is a darker blonde color with hints of brown and red streaks from being in the sun. Yeah Remi definitely blows me out of the water.
“Hey Marlee!” Said the bodacious blonde, “Have a good day at school?”
Immediately thinking of my encounter with Risk I blushed and muttered, “Don’t even get me started…”
“Oh my! Boy trouble isn’t it? I can always tell.” She gave me a devilish grin and sauntered away to wait on the table that Gray was eaves dropping at. When Gray noticed the direction that she was going he looked at me and winked. I chuckled a little and then realized that another girl that I work with, Jane, had seen me laughing, seemingly to myself, and my smile dropped as I scurried back to work.
When I finally climbed into bed that night I collapsed. I was going to have to start getting some sleep at night or I was never going to graduate and get the hell out of the town that was so scared of me. Gray actually looked a little beat too and plopped down beside me. I fell asleep listening to Gray hum the song “Hard to Say I’m Sorry” by Chicago.
The next morning I woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking. Since I had worked the night before I hadn’t had a chance to see my mother and talk to her about what had happened between us yet. I knew from past experiences that making breakfast for me was her way of making the effort to apologize. We had been through all of that many times before. I reluctantly brushed my hair and teeth and threw on my favorite skinny jeans and a bright yellow shirt, the color of my Rocktop shorts. As I was walking down the stairs to start my awkward morning I saw that Gray was waiting for me in the hall with a stupid smirk on his face. He knew I wasn’t a morning person, but he always insisted on giving me a hard time every morning.
“Are you ready for fake smiles and heartwarming hugs?” He said and his smile was growing with my annoyance.
“I’m so glad that you’re around all the time. I would just hate it if someone weren’t constantly annoying me.” I said and my words were oozing hateful sarcasm.
When I turned away from him I noticed that my mom was standing at the bottom of the stairs, once again, witnessing my interaction with thin air. She had that disapproving scowl on her face that I had grown all too familiar with. “We need to talk Mar.”
I flinched at the emphasis on my name and cowered down the rest of the stairs to sit at the kitchen table. Mom’s face softened a little and then she said, “I had no right to hit you like I did the other night. I just want to…understand you. I’m so sorry that I put my hands on you, but you have to realize what your episodes look like to me.” I nodded and she went on, “You don’t have any friends Marlee, and you choose to talk to people that aren’t even there. I can’t accept your explanation of it either. It’s just not possible.”
“Would you rather I lie to you about it?” I said, trying to sound like a typical smart ass teenager.
“No Marlee, I guess I wouldn’t, but maybe we should get you some help. Maybe you could talk to someone.”
“Mom, I’m telling you, I could either take medication that makes me more of a zombie than a person, or I could lie. Either way, this isn’t going away. There’s no sense in anyone being angry about it. Didn’t I prove it to you when I told you the things that Dad asked me to tell you?”
“I can admit that that was…strange, but I just can’t believe that what you’re seeing is real. It just isn’t possible.” She said with a defeated look and then went back to flipping pancakes. I ate quickly and then left for school without another word from her.
When I got to my English class I noticed that Risks seat was empty. Good. At least I dodged that bullet today. When Gray noticed the vacant seat he made himself comfortable there. Gray had always liked to go to school with me. He came with me almost every day since I was in preschool, but he had declared high school to be his favorite. He said that the atmosphere made him feel like he was in his element.
The school day passed slowly, but no one noticed me, which was a good thing. When I was noticed I was a target for torture. Gray skipped the car ride home from school and did his teleportation thing instead. When I got there I found him reading a note.
“Your mom is gone to L.A. She said that she would be back in a week.” Gray relayed the message.
“Guess we should throw a party!” I giggled and ran to the couch to jump on it like a trampoline. Gray tried to act like he was too cool to jump with me, but he couldn’t watch me have all of the fun, so he started to jump and it made him as giddy as a school girl. With each passing y
ear Gray seemed to try harder to keep up with his “coolness” but he was my best friend. I knew him inside and out and I already thought that he was the coolest person in the world.
THE LOST ONES
After Gray and I were done acting like little kids we went to the old town square to talk to the little dirty boy again. The last time that we were there we had made small talk, but no real progress in his moving on. He didn’t tell me anything about his life and I didn’t even know if he knew any of his story. All I knew about him were the basics; he knew that he was lonely, sad, and dead. After making our way through the woods, I was glad that I had decided to wear a jacket. It was unseasonably cold for our little southern town that time of year. It was the middle of September and it was already feeling like Christmas time.
When we made the rest of the walk, and the old town square came into view, I spotted my little dirty boy. He was sitting on an old park bench with his head in his hands, crying. When I walked up to him he looked up at me with puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks. The dirt on his face had been streaked with tears. I wanted to throw my arms around him to offer him a little comfort, but I knew very well that my arms would pass right through him. He was an image in the air just like all of the other Lost Ones. They could walk right through me and I wouldn’t feel a thing, and as far as Gray told me, they couldn’t either.
Gray plopped down beside the boy wearing the cocky smile that he had perfected and said, “What’s up chump?”
“Is that my name?” Little Dirty Boy asked.
“No, it’s just a figure of speech.” Gray said as he realized that he was being a little insensitive. “I don’t know my real name either, but my friends call me Gray. Well my friend calls me Gray. I guess that she’s my only one.
Gray started to chuckle and Little Dirty Boys face brightened, so I took Grays less serious approach.
“Don’t bother pretending that you have any friends at all Gray. You’re more of a stalker.” I laughed and Gray stuck his finger in his mouth to simulate gagging himself. Little Dirty Boy cracked a smile and then wiped the rest of his tears away with his dirty sleeve.
“I never had very many friends either. My mom said that I was…unique.” The boy said. I looked at him in shock and he returned a look of confusion. “What? Do I have something on my face?” He said.
I shook my head no and told him, “I’ve never met a soul who couldn’t remember his name but could remember other things from his life.” The boy smiled a small smile and said, “I remember my parents. My mom was the best mom ever.” He looked back down towards his shoes and frowned at something.
“Could you tell me where you used to live or where your mom lives now?” I asked and he started to sniffle as his tears began to fall again.
“After I died she shot herself. I was there. I used to follow her around and try to make sure she was okay. She was so sad. The last memory I have from my life is fishing with my dad. I don’t know how I died.” He said and took another wipe at his tears with his sleeve. I was so curious to know his story, and I also wanted to help the poor lost boy, so I pushed a little harder than normal.
“What’s your mom’s name? Do you know if she crossed over? Is your dad still alive?”
“My dad is in a place with a bunch of other old people. He got old really really fast, and I haven’t seen my mom since she shot herself.”
I understood then why he was crying. His soul, even in the afterlife, had a lot to bear. I couldn’t help but wonder where his mother might have gone. Most ghosts wanted to be around others like them, even though they never talked to one another, and they liked to be secluded. The old town square was a perfect spot for them and I couldn’t help but wonder why his mom wouldn’t go there to be around the others, or to even look and see if her son was still wandering around somewhere. If she had been around, Little Dirty Boy would have seen her. As a mother, I would hope that if my child died that they would not bear the burden of being stuck in this world alone. I would want them to pass on and see divine beauty and peace. I would always look out for their soul just to make sure that they weren’t lost and scared.
“Did you live around here?” I said while trying not to probe too hard.
“Yeah. My house is gone now though. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but my dad was young when I was alive, and now he’s really old. I go visit him sometimes. Sometimes I even think he knows that I’m there.”
I searched my brain for an idea of somewhere else where Little Dirty Boys mom might have gone to look for him. I could only think that maybe she stuck around where their house used to be. Gray raised an eyebrow at me like he was thinking the same thing.
Gray put an arm around the boy in a loving way. “I would love to see where you used to live, buddy, if you would like to show us.”
“Sure! It’s not too far, let’s go!” Little Dirty Boy said excitedly and then disappeared. I stood still for a moment in shock having realized that he didn’t know that I was still living. Gray burst out laughing and said, “I’ll get him. Be right back.”
After Gray retrieved the boy and explained that I was human I loaded up the Delray with my ghost posse and we headed to the north side of town, following Little Dirty Boys directions. It didn’t take long until he told me to turn onto a long gravel driveway. Hidden from the road was an old bungalow style house that was mostly burnt to the ground. I remembered the story of the fire. The house had been abandoned and some hooligan kids had gotten probation after they sheepishly admitted to having started the fire out of boredom. Surrounding the house were woods and in the back yard was the pond from Little Dirty Boys memory.
As we drove down the driveway and the house came into full view, Little Dirty Boys face fell and he was staring down at his shoes again. We all got out of the Delray to inspect the place in hopes that we would find his mother’s spirit there. We looked around the property for about an hour and peered into the side of the house that had crumbled to the ground. It was too dangerous for me to go inside to look and Gray told me that he didn’t want to go in and see the broken home.
Gray moseyed over to the pond and motioned the boy to stand by him. “Is this where you remember fishing with your dad?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Little Dirty Boy said as he joined Gray.
Gray looked into the water with a smile, “Looks like a really good place to catch some big fish!”
As the boy looked into the water his face grew pale, well pale for a ghost anyway. He started to shake and motioned like he couldn’t breathe. I didn’t understand what was going on. Obviously ghosts don’t need to breathe, they certainly don’t have lungs. I rushed over to him and tried to sooth him out of his panic.
“What’s wrong? Everything’s okay. Nothing’s wrong with you. You don’t need to breathe, you’re a ghost. You don’t need to breathe.”
He looked at me with panic in his eyes and I cast a troubled glance Grays way. All of the sudden Little Dirty Boy vanished.
“What the hell!” I probably looked as shocked as Gray did. “He acted like he couldn’t breathe!” Gray shook his head as he said, “I don’t know. Maybe something bad happened here. Maybe he remembers more than what he’s telling us.”
Ghosts were not generally so hard to crack. I’ve helped several over the years but mostly all they ever wanted was for me to tell someone that they loved them or to find something precious to them that they’d lost. The souls of the children were always harder than the adults. They were more confused and I always had to convince them that moving on without Mommy and Daddy was okay. There are angry ghosts too. They are the ones that die violently or let the anger, guilt, or loneliness consume them. Gray made sure that I stayed clear of them, as did he. You could always tell them apart from the regular ghosts. They had red eyes and scrunched up angry faces. There are even some that look more like gory zombies than souls. There were a few instances when I had seen them shouting at unsuspecting people on the street. Yeah those guys creep me out.
&nb
sp; On our drive home Gray and I decided that we should leave Little Dirty Boy alone for a few days and get him a chance to deal before we questioned him about his episode. However, when I walked through my bedroom door, Little Dirty Boy was sitting at the foot of my bed and twiddling his thumbs. He looked more shocked than sad as he looked up at me. His brown eyes held the burden of a secret, and if I was going to be of any help, he was going to have to spill it.
Instead of starting in on the questioning first thing, I sat to his right on the bed and Gray sat to his left. The boy watched me and I watched him, neither one of us wanting to speak first. Of course, Gray couldn’t stand the silence. “What was the deal with you back there, man? You had us scared to death!” I tried my hardest not to laugh at the “scared to death” part, but I couldn’t help it. After it dawned on them what Gray had just said they started to laugh too. It helped with the ambiance of the room tremendously. When the laughter stopped Little Dirty Boy began to speak.
“I remembered something, When I looked into the pond…I remembered my death.”
I wanted to ask him a million questions. I wanted to help him, but I was also extremely curious about how that could happen. It went against everything I knew about ghosts. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t ready to talk, though. Gray must’ve not noticed his solemn look as I did because he blurted out, “Well…tell us what happened!” He was just excited about the tale, but Little Dirty Boy whipped his head around to Gray and his face fell into a startled look. After a murderous glare to Gray, and a pained one to me, the boy vanished.
“Uh oh…” Gray said worried.
“What?”
“I’ve seen this pattern before.” He said, and I was confused.
“If he continues down this path, he’ll become one of them. One of the crazy, angry, red eyed things.”
