years,” Cassie said.
“That makes her a three-year-old ghost. She’s like a toddler. You need to go back and talk softly to her, treat her like a child, tell her what you can do for her.”
They reached the welcome sign for the town of Bliss, between a junkyard and a MacDonald’s.
She eased her foot off the gas pedal, the car slowing. “I won’t be telling her anything. My services are no longer needed. Luke is very sensibly packing up and leaving.”
In her periphery, Joe punched one fist into his palm. After threeyears with him, she no longer shuddered when she didn’t hear the smack of flesh against flesh. “I knew he was a coward.”
“He’s thinking of his daughter.”
“Ha! He’s running away with his tail between his legs.”
She saw the motel with the HOME AWAY FROM HOME sign on her left, and she hit the brakes, hoping the pickup truck riding their rear wouldn’t hit her. “You didn’t tell me where you disappeared to.” She pulled into the parking lot, the pickup missing her by inches.
“I was haunting old friends,” he said.
An odd note in his voice made her glance at him sharply. A small smile played on his lips. Facing forward, she turned into the motel driveway and seconds later she pulled up in front of room eleven, her favorite number. She glanced at Joe again, then sucked in her breath in a hiss.
His teeth glowed green, the rest of him fading, ala the Cheshire Cat.
“Don’t do that!” She wrenched the key from the ignition, grabbed her purse and reached for the door handle.
The glow blinked out and he turned solid again. As solid as a dead person could be.
Three minutes later, she was throwing clothes into the open suitcase. She wanted out of this place. Bliss had turned out to be anything but blissful. There was a hunger inside her for something that hadn’t been there when she came, something she couldn’t name.
“So where are we going?” Joe lounged on the bed without making a dent in the mattress or the pillow.
She sat on the edge of the bed, holding a T-shirt that said DEAD IS A STATE OF MIND, LIVING IS A STATE OF GRATITUDE. Every time she wore it, Joe told her she should white out the G and the R from Gratitude, and it would suit her.
“Not back to Illinois.” Her father would call her on Thursday morning, the way he always did. He’d ask about her job, and she wouldn’t lie. Why should she? She wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Then he’d expect her to visit him and her stepmother and stepbrother, and listen to them condescend to her. Usually she could handle them. But not now. Now she felt odd. Breakable. Like a vase left too near the edge of the table.
“Can you go to Ireland, Joe? I’ve always want to go there.”
“How does New Jersey sound?” He smiled slightly and his gaze slid downward. “I knew a girl in—” The smile wiped off his face and in one snap of time, he stood in front of her, bending over her bandaged hand. “She hurt you. That’s why you’re so blue.”
She whipped her hand behind her back. “It’s a scratch from a shard of flying glass. And I’m not blue.”
He raised his head, looking her in her eyes. “A dark blue. Like the sky in summer, just before the storm hits. What is it? You were falling for him, weren’t you?”
“That’s ridiculous. I’ve only known him for one day.”
“Yeah? You think I’ve forgotten how it felt to look at another person and want them? That’s how you felt, didn’t you? You liked him.”
“Like isn’t the word I’d use.” She let the T-shirt drape over her thighs, and she smoothed her hand over the black lettering. “He didn’t look at me like I was a freak.”
“Ah ha.” Joe reared up, floating over her like a man in a zero-gravity spacesuit. “I told you he was giving you the once-over. And you’re not a freak. Don’t let those bastards make you feel ashamed.”
“I won’t. I’ll stay as far away from them as I can.” She put all her determination into a nod.
“That makes her a three-year-old ghost. She’s like a toddler. You need to go back and talk softly to her, treat her like a child, tell her what you can do for her.”
They reached the welcome sign for the town of Bliss, between a junkyard and a MacDonald’s.
She eased her foot off the gas pedal, the car slowing. “I won’t be telling her anything. My services are no longer needed. Luke is very sensibly packing up and leaving.”
In her periphery, Joe punched one fist into his palm. After threeyears with him, she no longer shuddered when she didn’t hear the smack of flesh against flesh. “I knew he was a coward.”
“He’s thinking of his daughter.”
“Ha! He’s running away with his tail between his legs.”
She saw the motel with the HOME AWAY FROM HOME sign on her left, and she hit the brakes, hoping the pickup truck riding their rear wouldn’t hit her. “You didn’t tell me where you disappeared to.” She pulled into the parking lot, the pickup missing her by inches.
“I was haunting old friends,” he said.
An odd note in his voice made her glance at him sharply. A small smile played on his lips. Facing forward, she turned into the motel driveway and seconds later she pulled up in front of room eleven, her favorite number. She glanced at Joe again, then sucked in her breath in a hiss.
His teeth glowed green, the rest of him fading, ala the Cheshire Cat.
“Don’t do that!” She wrenched the key from the ignition, grabbed her purse and reached for the door handle.
The glow blinked out and he turned solid again. As solid as a dead person could be.
Three minutes later, she was throwing clothes into the open suitcase. She wanted out of this place. Bliss had turned out to be anything but blissful. There was a hunger inside her for something that hadn’t been there when she came, something she couldn’t name.
“So where are we going?” Joe lounged on the bed without making a dent in the mattress or the pillow.
She sat on the edge of the bed, holding a T-shirt that said DEAD IS A STATE OF MIND, LIVING IS A STATE OF GRATITUDE. Every time she wore it, Joe told her she should white out the G and the R from Gratitude, and it would suit her.
“Not back to Illinois.” Her father would call her on Thursday morning, the way he always did. He’d ask about her job, and she wouldn’t lie. Why should she? She wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Then he’d expect her to visit him and her stepmother and stepbrother, and listen to them condescend to her. Usually she could handle them. But not now. Now she felt odd. Breakable. Like a vase left too near the edge of the table.
“Can you go to Ireland, Joe? I’ve always want to go there.”
“How does New Jersey sound?” He smiled slightly and his gaze slid downward. “I knew a girl in—” The smile wiped off his face and in one snap of time, he stood in front of her, bending over her bandaged hand. “She hurt you. That’s why you’re so blue.”
She whipped her hand behind her back. “It’s a scratch from a shard of flying glass. And I’m not blue.”
He raised his head, looking her in her eyes. “A dark blue. Like the sky in summer, just before the storm hits. What is it? You were falling for him, weren’t you?”
“That’s ridiculous. I’ve only known him for one day.”
“Yeah? You think I’ve forgotten how it felt to look at another person and want them? That’s how you felt, didn’t you? You liked him.”
“Like isn’t the word I’d use.” She let the T-shirt drape over her thighs, and she smoothed her hand over the black lettering. “He didn’t look at me like I was a freak.”
“Ah ha.” Joe reared up, floating over her like a man in a zero-gravity spacesuit. “I told you he was giving you the once-over. And you’re not a freak. Don’t let those bastards make you feel ashamed.”
“I won’t. I’ll stay as far away from them as I can.” She put all her determination into a nod.
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