by Dana Pratola
I could be making more of it than necessary, and that was just like me. First off, he had no way of knowing I was a girl. Second, I hadn’t told Eliza about him until I’d been pressed and I still had no reason why. Maybe it was the same with him and telling Ben. Trying to secure a steady grip on our own little pieces of life, wanting to feel like we had some control over something. Anything.
Even so, I had to be careful. I didn’t answer, and after a moment, pressed my ear against the door to hear his footsteps retreating before I opened it. I went into the hall to peek over the banister in time to see him walking back onto the porch. Great! I had to use the bathroom and this was my chance.
Afterward, I slipped carefully downstairs. I had no reason to be down there other than a perhaps unhealthy urge to see Josiah, yet down I went. He sat on the porch facing the street and didn’t move when I stepped off the stairs into the hall. Still, I sensed he knew I was there.
He cleared his throat, then leaned back, turning over his shoulder. “You can join me if you want. I’m pretty sure you’re here. Can you make a noise or something? I don’t like not knowing for sure.”
I couldn’t help myself, I just had to let him know I heard, to somehow convey I wasn’t a threat. Still, even though he clearly knew I was human, I did the ghostliest thing that came to mind. I knocked once on the front of the door.
He jerked his head, startled, but then his shoulders relaxed. “Okay then.” He sounded amused, and gestured to the space beside him. “Have a seat if you want.”
My heart pounded in my throat. I couldn’t speak if I’d wanted to. Though I did take a step closer. With his back toward me I watched the muscles in his shoulders tense up again, as unsure of me as I of him. I went to the edge of the porch and did the unthinkable. I sat.
Whether I imagined his slight nod or not, he tilted back, angling slightly toward me. “Not ready to talk yet? Fine. I’ll talk, you can jump in when you’re ready. If ever.”
This was the most dangerous thing I could do. I must be out of my mind. He only had to stretch to his left and I’d be in his grasp. I slid my butt down to the next step and stood at the bottom, out of reach. He looked around in my direction, his brown eyes passing mine several times, expectant, wary. I didn’t want him to be nervous, so I kicked the ground once to give him my location. Instantly, he seemed to relax.
“Nice day,” he said, raising his head. “At least for now.” He inhaled. “Rain’s coming later.”
I looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, gray clouds were gathering in the west.
“I always liked rain. As long as it doesn’t leave things muggy. I can take heat, and dampness, but hate them together, you know what I mean?”
“Mm.”
It was out before I could stop it! Just reflex, startling me as much as him. He straightened and placed his hands on his knees.
“You going to talk to me after all?”
I clamped my lips together.
“Come on, how hard can it be? That was practically a word.”
I walked away and marched in a semi-circle in front of him, inwardly chastising myself for my stupidity. It didn’t matter at this point whether he heard me, and I guess it didn’t matter if I spoke to him—he couldn’t see me, after all—but I felt … safer, if he didn’t know my voice.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.
I knew that. I really did.
“I’m not going to bug you to talk either.” He ran his palms up, then back down the length of his thighs, then remained quiet.
I sat on the ground just looking up at him. I didn’t need imagination or compassion to see the sadness in his eyes, but I’m sure it was a combination of the two that had me seeing hopelessness.
“How about this?” he asked, at length. “What if I only ask yes or no questions and you knock back? One for yes, two for no. This way you don’t have to talk and I don’t have to feel like an idiot talking to myself. Would you do that for me?”
Well what could that hurt? I reached over to pick two grayish brown stones from the bare-patch yard and clicked them together once. I was immediately rewarded with a crooked grin.
“Okay, so, you’re obviously human.” He leaned forward, waiting. “Right?”
I tapped the stones together.
He nodded. “And a woman.”
I hesitated. Yes.
“How long have you— Sorry,” he interrupted himself. “That’s not a yes or no. Have you been here a long time?”
Too long in one way, certainly.
“I know you were here before me. Longer than a month?”
I clicked yes.
“Longer than two months?” he asked, concern tinting his voice.
No.
“Why—” He shook his head. “Are you here because you’re homeless?”
Yes.
“That’s a tough break.”
I resisted the urge to defend myself and tell him it wasn’t because of anything I’d done. I wasn’t unemployed, or have an addiction and spend all my money on drugs or lottery tickets. Although he didn’t need to know any of that.
“Is someone after you or something? Are you hiding out?”
No.
“I wish you’d at least tell me your name. If you don’t, I’m going to have to keep calling you Casper.”
I choked back a giggle, which he must have heard because he smiled again. And what a great smile. A little lopsided, and cocky, like he knew things.
Should I tell him? He went to my church, barely, according to what I’d overheard him telling Ben, and I’d never heard of him, so it wasn’t like he would recognize my name. But I was starting to enjoy this game.
“Would you tell me if I guess?” he asked.
Sure, why not? Yes.
He tossed out several names, some normal, some wild, like Lucinda Mae Frump and Whirlwind Twillinger, making me laugh quietly. I’d never had a conversation like this before. Not this type, or any type with an attractive man, just joking around. It was almost easy to forget the seriousness underlying the circumstance.
“I’ll be here all day guessing,” he said. “So, I’ll guess the letters, you tell me if they’re right.”
Yes.
“A.”
I didn’t reply.
“B.”
Yes.
It took a while. Eventually, after the second N, he guessed my first name. I wouldn’t let him try for my last. That would make it too easy to ask around about me. Although, how many Brennas were there around here anyway?
“Well, Brenna, you may as well talk to me, don’t you think? I’ll start. Hello Brenna. Nice to meet you.”
Yeah, he had a point. But forcing a sound past the nerves and through my vocal cords was more difficult than I’d thought it would be. He wore that expectant look again, unknowingly putting the pressure on.
Here goes.
“Hello Josiah. Nice to meet you, too.”
*****
My heart took off like a rocket. I’d seriously doubted she would answer. Definitely a girl. Young, judging by her voice. Just hearing it put me at ease ... after my heart settled. For one thing, it didn’t have that jerky, roughed-up edge most junkies’ voices often developed over time. Hers was smooth, clear, and just a little nervous. I held out my hand.
It remained empty, so I took it back. “All right, yeah, I guess it’s too soon for that,” I said. “So, you from around here, or just passing through?”
“I’m from Dalton originally.”
She had a nice voice. Friendly. Warm. “What brings you this way? I mean, how’d you come to be here?” I was so relieved that she’d answered. I must have been more wound up than I’d realized this whole time—with the ghost haunting me, and having no one to talk to—that I began to relax.
“A series of bad turns,” she said, after a pause.
I nodded. “We all make them.” She already sounded so down on her life, I hoped to make her feel a little better. And it was true, wasn’t it? We al
l screwed up.
“Well these weren’t my turns, exactly.”
“Boyfriend?”
She shuffled nearby. “Are you asking if I’m here because of a boyfriend or if I have one? No to both.”
It sounded as though she was sitting just below me to the left. She let out a little huff.
“I had a place nearby until my landlord’s son came home. It was a whole thing.”
Okay, so she was at least old enough to be living on her own. Not having to worry about having an under-age runaway under the same roof made her being here a little less weird.
“Parents?”
“Had one of each,” she answered.
Okay, touchy area, one I wouldn’t poke. We sat there quietly for what seemed like an hour with nothing but the sounds of the breeze and her occasional movement. I had glimpses of color and could see, as well as feel, the absence of sunshine. I also felt her eyes on me.
“Want to know something about me now?” I asked, finally.
“Sure,” she answered immediately.
“I’m scared.”
Silence stretched again, long, deep, and I regretted saying it. What kind of man confessed that to a woman? Though the fact that I didn’t know her made it easier, it wasn’t fair of me to burden her with that. From our brief, really unusual encounters so far, I knew she was a compassionate person.
“Sometimes,” I corrected. “I flip back and forth between faith and fear.”
“Who doesn’t?” She paused. “What happened?” she asked earnestly, as though she’d been wondering. Like she knew I hadn’t been blind all of my life.
“Kicked in the head by a horse.”
She made a hissing sound and I imagined she was wincing.
“From what I hear, someone shut me in a trailer with a nasty horse, hoping I’d get my brains bashed in. I did.”
“Oh my God. That’s….”
“I might get my sight back. Or I might not.” It was too painful to say I’d had it back briefly, then lost it again.
“I’ll be praying for you.”
She started to say something else, but I’d just realized I didn’t want to discuss this after all. “Uh, while you’re here, feel free to use the bathroom. Shower and everything.”
“I smell that bad?”
It took me a second to realize she’d made a joke. I chuckled. “No. In fact the only time I thought I smelled you … it was a man’s aftershave.”
Brenna let out a sound of disgust. “That wasn’t me.”
I tensed. “Someone with you?”
“Oh, no, no,” she said, touching my arm lightly.
I pulled back sharply, not expecting the contact.
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” she said. “I won’t touch you.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Just didn’t see it coming.” It was a bad joke and she didn’t laugh. I cleared my throat. “So, the aftershave … whose was it?”
“Some guy.”
She left it there for several breaths, but must’ve realized how odd it sounded.
“He works at the bike shop in town. He wears a lot of the stuff. A-lot.”
“But he’s not a boyfriend?” I guess it was presumptuous, but there had to be a tie in.
“No!”
The element of repulsion in the single syllable made me chuckle. “That’s a real no, huh?”
“He likes me…. I’m in no way interested.”
“Afraid you’ll suffocate?”
Brenna laughed. Not harsh or mocking, no. A light, pleasing sound, kind of musical, that warmed me inside. I know, it sounds exaggerated. It’s not.
“So how did you come to be contaminated by that … fragrance?”
“He fixed my bike,” she said, between giggles.
My confusion must have shown on my face.
“That’s how much of the stuff he wears,” she said. “I guess it transferred from my bike to me.”
I nodded. “I don’t mind telling you, I’m relieved.”
“Relieved?”
“Yeah, I don’t think I could live with a ghost who smells like that.”
We laughed. In a way I think it was just a release, discharging the tension we’d held between us from the beginning, me hoping not to be murdered in my sleep, and her…. Well I could only speculate on the fears a woman would have being in a house alone with a grown man. Blind or not. Damn, forget me, just being alone in this house had to be nerve-racking.
“I like when you laugh,” she said, suddenly. For some reason, that made me stop. “Uh … sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No, that’s okay,” I said, “I like to laugh. Haven’t had much occasion lately.”
“I can’t even…. Losing my sight….”
That silence returned. With it, the return of the sounds of the breeze picking up and a vehicle approaching from the south—
“Ben’s back.”
“What?”
She hurried into the house, but I heard her just inside the door.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t want him to see me. I’m just not ready for a bunch of questions and stuff.”
I knew what she meant. I wanted to keep her secret a little longer as well. “Okay. Go inside. I’m taking the bedroom upstairs tonight. He’ll have to come up to use the bathroom, though.”
“He’s staying?”
“Yeah,” I said, disappointed. I was enjoying my time with Brenna, as odd as it was. “Just for the night. Hey, if you’re hungry, there’re sandwiches in the fridge. Drinks, too.”
I heard her shoot further into the house, even over the growing roar of Ben’s truck.
CHAPTER 13
“Talking to yourself?” Ben asked, walking to the porch.
“What?”
“Your lips’ve been moving since I drove up.”
I shrugged. “Just rearranging things in my head.”
“I’m here now if you want to talk.”
“I appreciate it.” And I did. “Some things just have to be tossed around up here though,” I said, pointing to my head.
“I hear that. Hey, I got you some sheets, blankets, and a pillow from the house. Jill might have my head when she notices them missing,” he said with a chuckle, sitting next to me. “But that’s what friends do. Lay their lives on the line. Right … friend?”
He had my suspicion up now. “What’re you hinting at?”
“You remember my sister-in-law, Paisley?”
“Yeah, the girl. Thirteen? Twelve?” I’d met her last year. Kept tripping over her.
“That’s her.”
“What about her?”
“She’s coming out to stay until the baby’s born. Going to help out, even after.”
He let the sentence hang there a minute. “And?” I asked.
“And she wants riding lessons while she’s here.”
“Great. Sign her up.”
“With you,” Ben said.
“Me? Why me?” It hit me then. “Aww, come on, Ben. A crush?”
He chuckled. “She’s a blossoming woman.”
I stood to go inside, halting when I remembered I’d heard Brenna in the kitchen and she might not be back in her hiding place just yet. “I don’t want her blossoming anywhere near me.”
“Come on—”
“And I’m surprised at you. Shouldn’t you be watching out for her? A twelve-year-old—”
“Fifteen.” He rose, too.
I stopped, mid-step. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. She’s fifteen and dead set on you.”
He laughed. I didn’t. “I don’t have time to babysit your baby sister-in-law. Even if I did, I’m clearly not able to lead her to the horse, let alone—”
“I know, I know, that’s what I told Jill. But if you could just be nice to her for, say, half an hour, then pass her off on someone else….”
“Why are you and Jill condoning this behavior? Shouldn’t you be keeping her under lock and key if her hormones are all stirred up
?”
“Believe me, I already have my hands full. And you’re safe,” Ben said. “Come on. Half an hour.”
I groaned. “Fine. When’s she coming?”
“I can bring her out Thursday.” He paused. “You should be back home, right? No reason to hang around here.”
Only Brenna. Now I wasn’t in such a rush to leave.
“What is it?” Ben asked, dropping a hand on my back, when I hadn’t answered.
“What do you mean?”
“You seem down since I left,” he said.
“I was up before?”
“No, just—”
I raised my hands in a halt motion and shook his hand off my back. “I am a little tense. I don’t want to take it out on you. I’m just working through some stuff, it’s not all coming out the way I mean.”
“The doc said you might have confusion. Distorted timelines, short-term memory, that kind of thing. Remember?”
“Of course, I remember.” But yeah, I could use that angle. “I’m sure it’s just temporary. I’m a little frustrated, that’s all.”
“Understandable.”
We started walking to the parlor when he remembered he’d left something in his truck and went outside. As soon as he closed the door, I whispered loudly for Brenna.
“Where are you?”
“Upstairs,” came her hushed reply.
I moved toward the stairs. “Stay out of sight. We’ll be coming up to set up the bedroom in a bit so he won’t have to come up later except to use the bathroom.” I heard Ben’s truck door close. “He’s coming back.”
“Brought my tablet,” Ben said, when he came in. “Thought we’d watch Rocky later.”
“You watch, I’ll listen,” I joked.
“Gee, I’m sorry, Kash.”
“Would you stop that? I’m kidding. Don’t be so sensitive,” I said. “I know the movie inside out, so I’ll be following in my head.”
Ben gave a short chuckle. “True.”
“Hey, we might as well set up the bed now. If you don’t mind,” I added. “This way when I’m tired, I can just head up.”
