by Angie Morel
“Really? Then what the fuck am I? Or D? Or Snick? We mean nothin’ to you? What about the whole family thing we talked about yesterday, huh? Does that mean nothin’?”
“No! No. That’s not what I meant. Mary was just, you know, the only thing I’d built my world around the last few years, the only good thing in my life. She was my…purpose, I guess. And that’s what I focused on, keeping her safe and trying to make sure that her life would be better than mine.” I choked out a laugh. “And look what that got her!”
My foot nudged the floor again, setting the swing in motion. Dropping my head back, I let it rest against the back of the swing. The abandoned spider webs that were knitted into the edges of the ceiling rafters caught my attention. I found my eyes tracing the delicate strands. They were strong once. But now, instead of sustaining life for the spider they were useless, collecting nothing but dust and bits of leaves, disintegrating as the wind slowly ate them away.
Weak.
Stretched and pulled and broken.
Like me.
“I kinda feel like I’m floating out there, not knowing my…I don’t know, purpose, I guess. What I’m supposed to do. Or who I’m supposed to be. I have this hole inside. How do I…what do I fill it with? A huge part of me is gone, the good part. And now, I’m…I don’t know what I am. Shit, I don’t even know what the hell I’m trying to say. I’m messed up in my head right now.” I didn’t know how to put to words what I was feeling because I never talked about my feelings or explored them much. And quite frankly I wasn’t used to anyone caring enough to listen.
“But see, what you don’t understand is, that’s what we’re here for. We can give you strength. I know that sounds like bullshit counselor talk, or whatever.” Pausing, he blew out a breath. “Listen. I know about you, okay? And you and me, we’ve dealt with shit most people wouldn’t have a clue about. Had shit done to us by the people who were supposed to take care of us. Our eyes are wide open, see? And we ain’t fooled by much. Trustin’ others goes against our nature. Believe me, I know. But trust in this, please. Like we said yesterday, we’re a family now. We gotta start believing in each other, holding each other up when we need to. That’s what families do. That’s what this family does, and what we gotta do to survive.”
Keeping my head tilted back, I moved my eyes to him. Other than the part where he said I know about you, I understood what he was saying. But I had a problem with one of the words he kept using. Trust. My sister had trusted me to keep her safe. What if I failed Rolo, D, and Snick the same way I failed Mary—
A black blur suddenly moved in the distance. I jerked my head forward while jamming my foot against the floorboard, stilling the motion of the swing. My other leg came down as I sat up straight, my brows crunched together as I tried to figure out what it was. It had four legs and moved like a dog. The size of it, though, was larger than any dog I’d ever seen. Was it a bear? Were there bears out here?
Rolo tensed, taking in my reaction. He turned to look in the same direction. “What? You see somethin’? Bangers?”
“No. At eleven o’clock. What the hell is that? A dog?”
Then something strange happened. For a split second, I could’ve sworn that the black figure flickered, like bad reception on a TV, where static takes over like a zillion busy bugs crawling frantically on the screen before it flips back to the picture. I blinked. Did that really happen? Nah, it must’ve been a trick my eyes played. I’ve been crying and vomiting so much the past couple of days that my eyes were shot. That was it.
“Where?” Rolo asked as he approached the porch railing. “I don’t see anything at eleven o’clock.”
“Over there, on the hill.” He looked back at me, so I pointed to the spot.
He squinted. “I don’t see anything.”
Pushing up from the swing, I took a few purposeful strides. Standing beside Rolo, I glanced at him briefly before turning my head and narrowing my gaze at what was definitely a dog. A big one.
Jesus, was Rolo blind? How could he not see that huge black thing making its way down the hill? I didn’t know the breed, but it was quick and agile, jumping over the little creek that ran beside the field before trotting up to the base of the porch. Shaggy and thick, it had hair like bangs covering its eyes and paws the size of dinner plates.
Then the static thing happened again.
I swallowed, beginning to understand that something weird was going on, particularly because of the fact that Rolo still looked out towards the hill when the dog was right in front of us. Based on that, he really must not be able to see it. What the hell was going on? I stared at the dog. He (at least I assumed it was a he based on the size) sat with his tongue lolling out, looking at me. A chill hit my skin. Up close, I could almost…see through him.
“So, uh, you don’t see a dog sitting right there, right in front of the porch?” I asked in a neutral tone, keeping my gaze locked on the animal. The long pause that followed my question was hard to ignore. Out of my side vision I saw Rolo slowly turn his head towards me. I continued to stare at the dog, not willing to verify that a person whose good opinion I valued would be looking at me with a careful expression on his face, the same type of expression worn by people dealing with mental patients who claim the sky is filled with purple flying snakes. Nope, wasn’t going to acknowledge him. Looking at a make-believe dog was better than seeing that type of concern directed at me.
The dog woofed.
If I hadn’t been looking at him when he did it, I don’t think my ears would’ve registered the sound. As it was, the sound was muffled and seemed to travel a long distance before extinguishing itself right before it got to me, like he barked into a tin can on the very edge of my hearing range. Which was odd in the fact that he was right in front of me, and a dog his size would no doubt have a bark deep and loud enough to stampede a herd of cattle.
Well, that’s just great, I thought. The events from the past few days messed me up so bad that I completely lost my mind—to the point where I now lived in the land of hallucinations and psychosis. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Tell me,” Rolo said, still looking at me. “If you see somethin’, I’ll believe you, but you gotta tell me.”
Sighing, I glared at the dog. “I…” Shit. Blowing out a breath, I scratched at my head before diving right in. “Okay. So, there’s a black dog, a very large one I might add, that I saw come out of the trees up there. He made his way down the hill and now is sitting in front of the porch. Right there.” My accusing finger pointed at the spot. “He’s looking at me—or I think he is anyway, his eyes are covered with hair. And, well—this is kind of funny—but he’s sort of…see-throughy, I guess you could say. Pretty nuts, huh? I think I’ve officially lost it.”
Rolo didn’t laugh.
“Yeah, about as crazy as all the people droppin’ dead and then havin’ to fight off brain-scrambled bangers that’re tryin’ to kill us, right?” he replied in the dry tone he sometimes used.
I cocked my head. He had a point. Turning, I looked at him. A breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding eased out. Thankfully he wasn’t looking at me like I’d gone mad.
But if I wasn’t crazy, then the question was…what did it mean?
By mutual agreement we decided not to tell D and Snick about the dog just yet, as we wanted some time to figure out this strange event. Rolo told me that he wanted to know whenever I felt, saw, or heard something odd, no matter how insignificant it seemed—which led me to tell him about the dream from last night. I told him everything, from the ominous feel of the darkened tree line, to the words the “Dream Mary” said about some sort of sign to watch for. And now the dog. We thought the dream and the dog might be related. I also mentioned the image of the green bridge and how I heard what might’ve been the words “Mississippi River”.
“She said that I have to open myself. What do you think she meant?”
Rolo shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Minutes went by as Rolo searc
hed for a dog he couldn’t see—and I stared it, wishing I couldn’t see the damn thing. This was beyond weird. It cracked open the door to a creepy, mysterious world that I didn’t want anything to do with. While staring at the phantom dog and contemplating the soundness of my mind, the static thing happened again.
“He’s, ah…flickered a couple of times, like he might go away.”
“Still there though, right?”
“Yep. Still sitting there, looking at me…” I trailed off.
“Come on, let’s go inside. Maybe when we come out again the dog will be gone,” Rolo said.
I could only hope so. Giving the dog one last dirty look, I turned and went to the door, only to find D standing on the opposite side of the screen, blinking at me.
“What dog? What are you guys talking about?” he asked suspiciously, eyes bouncing back and forth between us.
Rolo and I looked at each other. I shrugged at him. It’s not like we weren’t going to tell them soon anyway. After telling D to get Snick, we filled them in on the events of the morning. All four of us were on the porch, facing the dog.
“You mean you see a big black dog sitting in front of the porch?” D asked.
“Ah, yep.”
“So, he’s on the grass right there?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you can kind of see through him?”
“That would be correct.”
“And he just ran down the hill over there and came right up to you?”
I gave a big nod, rocking back on my heels.
D was quiet for a few seconds. Then he grinned and elbowed Snick who was standing next to him.
“That is so freakin’ cool.”
Two hours later Rolo was sleeping, Snick was teaching D the fine art of poker in the kitchen, and I was back out on the porch having a staring contest with the dog. He hadn’t gone away. He also hadn’t moved from his original position earlier.
Pulling in courage with every breath, I finally forced my legs to carry me down the steps and onto the grass to stand directly in front of him. As he lifted his massive head to look at me, I noticed a tag dangling from the collar around his neck.
Not giving myself time to chicken out, I crouched and leaned forward to see what was engraved on the tag. Not quite able to see it, I reached out…and then watched with sick fascination as my hand passed through the tag and into his neck.
Holy. Shit. A cool, prickly sensation enveloped my hand. He didn’t seem to mind. I pulled my hand out slowly and squinted, moving in closer, my head almost touching his nose. The need to see what was engraved on that tag overtook me. And then I saw it.
Sucking in a breath, I stood and backed away until my butt made contact with the bottom of the porch railing.
“Ghost,” I whispered in amazement. Was that his name or what he was? Or both?
His ears perked at my whispered declaration, and he woofed again. Lifting his backside he stood on all fours, looking like he wanted to attack. Fear locked my muscles, preventing me from moving from my position against the railing. I wasn’t familiar with dogs in general, let alone one that was an apparition.
Suddenly he spun in a full circle, looked at me and spun half again before running back towards the hill where he came from. With my heart thudding in my chest, I watched him slow and then stop about fifty feet away. Moving his head towards me, he woofed again and pranced, acting as though he wanted me to follow.
Then the flicker thing happened again. And again. And then he disappeared.
Frozen against the porch, I blinked at the spot where Ghost had been. I waited a full five minutes before walking to the spot on the hill where he disappeared. Not feeling or sensing anything at that spot, I waited a few minutes more.
He did not reappear.
Chapter 12
We decided to leave the next morning. I was ready. More than ready.
After being a no-show for the rest of yesterday afternoon and last night, Ghost was waiting for us when we stepped out the front door and into the cool and cloudy day. Well, technically he was waiting for me, since I was the only one that could see him.
“Guess who’s back,” I stated, shifting my backpack. To be honest, I hoped to never see him again. That way perhaps I could convince myself (and the others) that yesterday was simply a bout of temporary insanity or PTSD or something.
“The dog is? Ghost?” Snick asked.
“Yep. Sitting next to the sidewalk, over by D.”
D grinned madly, rubbing his hands together.
“What are you smiling at?” I asked, feeling a bit defensive.
“It’s just…that is dope man. You are so lucky.” D stuck his hands out and down, feeling the air around him, hoping to sense the dog. “Am I close?”
I slowly shook my head as I watched him—his face slack and arms out like a blind man reaching for an item that wasn’t there. “D, you look like an idiot.” He managed to pass his fingers through Ghost’s head. The dog’s ghostly image gave the tiniest shiver. D must not have felt the tingling sensation like I had. At least he didn’t say anything.
I turned to Rolo. “What should—“
Ghost chose that moment to bark, as if telling me to pay attention. Like yesterday, it was an odd and barely distinguishable sound. I wasn’t looking at him when he did it, but my ears picked it up—paranormal sound memory or something. At any rate, I turned to him and raised my eyebrows. He barked again and took off towards the back of the house. Stopping at the corner, he looked at me expectantly. Come on.
“What’s he doing?” Rolo noticed my head following what he couldn’t see.
“He’s heading towards the back of the house. I think he wants us to follow him.”
“Well heck, let’s go!” D threw out, already marching in that direction.
“Wait! Wait.” This was crazy. I let my gaze touch on each of them. Damned if I’d let my possible psychosis infect the decision making going on here. “Let’s vote. Who thinks we should follow a dog that no one can see but me?”
“I do! I do!” D chimed in immediately, bouncing up and down and raising his hand in the air like he was in school and finally knew the answer to something. Or had to go to the bathroom really bad.
“Me too,” Snick nodded.
We deferred to Rolo, waiting for his answer. He shrugged. “Sure.”
Raising my eyebrows, I shook my head. “Okay. Let’s go.” To be honest, I didn’t really care what we did, I just wanted to leave. Stepping towards the dog, the others fell in step behind me.
Ghost led us to the back of the house, past the porch, and in the direction he came from yesterday. Unusual silence accompanied us as we hiked up the hill. I knew what the silence meant. Mary. We were all thinking about Mary, and what happened.
The red barn was an elephant in the side of my vision. It sat big and menacing on the step in the hill to the right of us—and I could feel it watching me. Glaring, actually. Letting me know that it was fully aware that I was the one who dared to enter and bring devastation upon it, staining the structure with death. The size of it seemed to expand the more I ignored it, the more I refused to look at it, until the entire right side of my vision filled with red. Oh no no, you will not forget what happened within my walls you stupid girl.
My heart knocked around inside my chest and the air got harder to breathe. The absolute pain of Mary’s loss hit me again, causing my knees to buckle. I stumbled, ignoring the hands that tried helping me. With great effort I pushed the awful feeling down and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. On the rise of the hill I stopped and turned around. Ignoring the barn, my eyes sought out the tree. The others continued on, granting me the moment I needed.
There wasn’t a lick of wind evident. The weeping willow stood completely still, its switch-like branches hanging heavy and straight to the ground, giving the tree the appearance of infinite sadness…a bent head with a fall of green hair hiding a tear-streaked face, living up to its namesake. That’s what I saw. My
entire torso clenched. Oh God, the pain. The pain was so bad.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I’m so sorry I failed to keep you safe, Mary.
How could I go through life with this gaping wound inside? How could I live without her, pretending things were okay? And then it hit me. I couldn’t. I couldn’t because this was a fatal wound. And grief was the infection setting in…
A breeze kicked up out of nowhere, lifting my hair, warm on my face. Like a long exhaled breath. It smelled like Mary. My eyes popped open, sight dead-center on the tree.
It was dancing in the wind—dancing for me. I don’t know how, but it was my sister. I knew it down to the marrow in my bones. Go she was saying.
Blinking back tears, I breathed in through my nose, absorbing the air that smelled of my sister, and then held it deep inside my lungs, unwilling to let go. Finally, desperate for the need to exhale, I released my breath, giving the mound of dirt by the tree a loving caress with my eyes.
Live for me.
I swear I heard the words. Just like the words she said in the dream. My eyes squeezed shut. The breeze died down. In the quiet that followed, I concentrated on the steady thump of my heart as it returned to a normal rhythm. Opening my eyes, I took in the stillness of the weeping willow tree. She was waiting for my answer.
“I will,” I whispered.
Abruptly I turned and moved between and then past the others as if I didn’t see them. Rolo, D, and Snick kept their heads down and after a moment they followed, one by one. They didn’t realize what happened, what a pivotal moment it had been.
It was the moment I decided to live.
The safest bet was to stick to rural areas and avoid towns altogether. We’d decided that early on. Towns meant more bangers and more kids gone wild. Almost as if Ghost knew our plan, after leaving the farm where Mary died, he led us west through woods and farmland, keeping our route about as rural as it could get. Without any definite place in mind to go, we followed.
At times he would flicker and fade away. I didn’t say anything to the others during the times he wasn’t present. What I did was keep us moving forward. In the back of my mind I knew that Ghost would appear to lead me in the correct direction if I got off track. Where he was taking us was anyone’s guess, but we kept plodding on, believing in some greater purpose.
