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Chapter 5:- When This Old World Starts Getting Me Down
Somewhere behind the finger a giggling drifted out at me, floating across the hall, hovering in front of my face. It couldn’t have been clearer if musical notes had appeared in midair to accompany it like a ghostly karaoke machine.
“Knock it off,” I muttered, crossing the hallway and swatting at my keyhole.
The finger refused to dissipate.
* * *
I unfolded the blanket and laid it across the bed in its rightful place, then tossed myself on top of it like an oversized rag doll.
“Stop it,” I mumbled. “Whatever you want right now, leave me alone.”
“Oh, come on, grow up.” His voice came from somewhere off to the left side, and I turned my head to seek him out.
He was crammed in the impossibly small space between the frame of my bed and my nightstand, face towards me, eyes completely white and lit up like some kind of comic book supervillain.
“I’m tired. No.”
“You were just sleeping! Let’s do something. This is boring.”
“Ughhh.” I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.
“Let’s go up to the roof! Up to the roof! Up to the roof!”
I sat up, annoyed. “What’s up on the roof?”
“Nothing, really. Open space and stuff.”
“And you’re interested in open space because?”
“I’m not particularly. Well, I’m interested in a lot of things but right now the only place I haven’t spent a whole lot of time exploring is up there.”
“Can’t this wait?”
“No.” He floated upwards and crossed his arms. “No, it cannot.”
* * *
I grabbed some fireworks out of my kitchen junk drawer before I left. They were leftover Fourth of July stock from the convenience store down the street, bought for over half off on July the Fifth. I hadn’t even opened the boxes. Nothing to celebrate yet.
And besides, sparklers and snakes aren’t really all that great to begin with. They’d been out of those tissue paper snappers the day I’d gone. That’s what I’d really wanted.
Behind me, The Ghost chucked. “Never thought I’d see that again. You put a tiny hibachi out there? Madam, I believe that’s against building rules.”
I turned my head and followed his line of sight. He was staring out onto my balcony.
* * *
I hadn’t been aware that spirits could lean.
Apparently they can, because he stood there with his shoulders up against the chain link fence that ringed the roof.
I sat down beside him, a few feet away, and fished around in my canvas bag for my stuff.
“You call that fireworks?”
“Shut up, it’s all they had. You can’t get the good kind around here anyway.” It took me a few tries to get the end of the first sparkler lit. “These better not all be duds. Oh, there we go.” I spelled out my name in shiny gold sparks.
The smell of spent fireworks always irritates my nose. It dampens my enthusiasm, too. After a few sticks I lost interest and put the rest away.
“Look at the city,” said The Ghost.
I looked up at him gripping the fence, white eyes wide, a smile across his face. Up close his skin was so translucent I could see the spectral blue blood vessels beneath.
“What about it?”
“It’s beautiful!”
“I suppose so.”
“You don’t appreciate the view because you’re still living.” He frowned.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He let go and floated up to the top of the fence and peeked over. He sighed. “That was a really dumb thing to do, you know that?”
“Well, then why’d you do it?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. I didn’t really stop to consider it.”
I kept quiet. I didn’t know what to say.
“And now,” The Ghost went on, “I can’t leave this building. Not without your help.”
Somewhere behind the finger a giggling drifted out at me, floating across the hall, hovering in front of my face. It couldn’t have been clearer if musical notes had appeared in midair to accompany it like a ghostly karaoke machine.
“Knock it off,” I muttered, crossing the hallway and swatting at my keyhole.
The finger refused to dissipate.
* * *
I unfolded the blanket and laid it across the bed in its rightful place, then tossed myself on top of it like an oversized rag doll.
“Stop it,” I mumbled. “Whatever you want right now, leave me alone.”
“Oh, come on, grow up.” His voice came from somewhere off to the left side, and I turned my head to seek him out.
He was crammed in the impossibly small space between the frame of my bed and my nightstand, face towards me, eyes completely white and lit up like some kind of comic book supervillain.
“I’m tired. No.”
“You were just sleeping! Let’s do something. This is boring.”
“Ughhh.” I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.
“Let’s go up to the roof! Up to the roof! Up to the roof!”
I sat up, annoyed. “What’s up on the roof?”
“Nothing, really. Open space and stuff.”
“And you’re interested in open space because?”
“I’m not particularly. Well, I’m interested in a lot of things but right now the only place I haven’t spent a whole lot of time exploring is up there.”
“Can’t this wait?”
“No.” He floated upwards and crossed his arms. “No, it cannot.”
* * *
I grabbed some fireworks out of my kitchen junk drawer before I left. They were leftover Fourth of July stock from the convenience store down the street, bought for over half off on July the Fifth. I hadn’t even opened the boxes. Nothing to celebrate yet.
And besides, sparklers and snakes aren’t really all that great to begin with. They’d been out of those tissue paper snappers the day I’d gone. That’s what I’d really wanted.
Behind me, The Ghost chucked. “Never thought I’d see that again. You put a tiny hibachi out there? Madam, I believe that’s against building rules.”
I turned my head and followed his line of sight. He was staring out onto my balcony.
* * *
I hadn’t been aware that spirits could lean.
Apparently they can, because he stood there with his shoulders up against the chain link fence that ringed the roof.
I sat down beside him, a few feet away, and fished around in my canvas bag for my stuff.
“You call that fireworks?”
“Shut up, it’s all they had. You can’t get the good kind around here anyway.” It took me a few tries to get the end of the first sparkler lit. “These better not all be duds. Oh, there we go.” I spelled out my name in shiny gold sparks.
The smell of spent fireworks always irritates my nose. It dampens my enthusiasm, too. After a few sticks I lost interest and put the rest away.
“Look at the city,” said The Ghost.
I looked up at him gripping the fence, white eyes wide, a smile across his face. Up close his skin was so translucent I could see the spectral blue blood vessels beneath.
“What about it?”
“It’s beautiful!”
“I suppose so.”
“You don’t appreciate the view because you’re still living.” He frowned.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He let go and floated up to the top of the fence and peeked over. He sighed. “That was a really dumb thing to do, you know that?”
“Well, then why’d you do it?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. I didn’t really stop to consider it.”
I kept quiet. I didn’t know what to say.
“And now,” The Ghost went on, “I can’t leave this building. Not without your help.”
