Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Christopher
He hunched over, breathing ragged.
“What do you remember?”
“A twisted path and a bicycle. The sun in my eyes, too bright. Flashing dots. The rest is fuzzy.” He touched his hand to the side of his head. “Nothing else.” His eyes widened. “Do you think?” Before I could reply, he turned and made retching sounds.
It made sense. What Ghost was silently asking, but it sucked if the only piece of his life he might get back was related to his death.
“I’m cold.”
I massaged his hands in mine. Offering my warmth.
“Let’s try some words.”
“No, it’s fading away, whatever…this was.”
“But maybe now that a piece returned, the others are closer,” I pushed. This would not be his only memory. A fragmented sense of fear.
Ghost said nothing.
I chewed the corner of my lip. Where to take him? Good things. Ones I already knew he seemed to love. “The beach. Puppies. Chocolate cake.” I hugged him to me. “I want you to picture them. The beach, puppies, chocolate cake.”
His eyes were dull, skin clammy to my touch. Still, I added more words. “A hammock, a grill, a sunset.”
I made my voice slow and unhurried. I didn’t expect it to work, really, but it might help to imagine these pleasant images.
He watched me as I spoke, and I could see his spirit returning. Color came back to his cheeks. He gave a tiny smile that wasn’t a smile, but it was a start.
God, I loved him. His bravery. His beauty. His goodness. I was crazy about him.
“Houses. Plants. Friends. Starbucks.” I leaned closer, searching for more words. “Books, blankets, laughter.”
He gripped my shirt. “Wait!”
As I paused, his entire face brightened.
“ Oh, God . I see faces. Their real—my friends. I can see them.” He squinted as if looking far in the distance. “I miss them so much! And they’re missing me. I feel that?—”
My whole body tingled in response. Most ghosts weren’t strong enough to find memories. Mine was. But would it take him away from me?
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Go on. Concentrate on them.”
“Cole—I see him.” He beamed. “My best friend!” His smile slipped. “No, it’s okay. Don’t be sad, Cole. Don’t be guilty. You were the best and I never loved him, it was a crush, not love…I’ve learned what real love is.”
I moved closer to him. Was he saying he loved me ? Or was this only wishful thinking?
“Oh, my God.” He gasped. “I can’t believe all this.” His chest rose and fell as if he were struggling to restrain himself. “The others. I see them, too. I feel them…” His breath snagged. “Marc, please stop running. Trust love, Tomas has been there always, and he won’t let you down.” Ghost’s eyes became unfocused as he peered into the human realm. “River— oh , I’m so sorry. I hurt you so much, and it’s all my fault…” It was all he could manage. His lips trembled; his eyes were damp.
I took another step toward him and rested my hand on his shoulder. My touch appeared to steady him. Slowly, he gathered his thoughts before speaking again.
“It’s as if my window is open and I’m looking into our place. I’m—with them, somehow. But not in my past. I see them right now. Grieving for me. Fuck. How can that be?” he whispered.
I shook my head. “There’s a lot we still don’t know about the realms.”
“They’re all so sad…never wanted my death to cause so much pain.”
“Those guys must have loved you a hell of a lot.” I drew a breath. “Belonging like that to others—I think it’s worth the pain.”
He gazed at me, and my heart fluttered.
I’d never believed in all that until him. Forever was something in fairy tales. He had taught me to have faith in love. In myself. I blinked back tears.
“And your name?” I pressed. “Do you know who you are?”
“Who I was , you mean.” He slid me a sad smile.
“Do you have your name?” I inhaled sharply, preparing myself for a boundless amount of loss. I loved him. But I knew if he needed to go back instead of forward with me, I’d have to let him go.
A long silence passed as I waited for him to answer.
He nodded slowly and took my hand in his. Threaded our fingers tightly, squeezing.
“My name is Ghost.”