Giving Up the Ghost

by Jane Davitt

  “She wasn’t?”

  “Uh-uh.” Josh turned around and walked backwards, watching Nick’s face. “She didn’t say so, but I knew she thought it.”

  Perceptive.

  “Moms have to watch out for their kids.”

  “I know. She’s a good mom. She used to be sad about my father ‑‑ um, our father. But now she’s happy. My new dad makes her happy.”

  “Being happy is really important,” Nick said. “Probably the most important thing.”

  “You’re happy.” Josh sounded very definite about it. “On top there’s all this stuff…but you’re happy, right? Deep down happy?”

  It was a strange way of putting it. On top? On top of what? Nick settled for nodding and giving a fairly bland reply. “Yes, I am. I live in a beautiful, peaceful place with someone I love. I’m happy.”

  He let the memory of the island rise, his next breath of humidity drawn into his lungs almost a shock when he’d been remembering the cool, sharp taste of salt, sea air. For the first time in a while, he thought about how they’d left the island and what had happened just before. Michael was probably wondering how he and John were doing; if they’d managed to put what had happened behind them…

  Josh kicked a small stone out of his way, the rattle of it against the sidewalk lost in the roar of a bike going by. It took Nick a moment to realize that he’d been asked a question. He turned his head and smiled down at his brother. “Sorry, Josh. What was that?”

  “I said ‑‑” Josh shook his head, his eyes distant for a moment. “Never mind. I know.” He grinned, his face lighting up. “When we get to the store, I’ll buy you a popsicle if you want.”

  “Does that mean you want me to buy you one?” Nick had never known much about kids before meeting John but he’d learned fast on the island, where there seemed to be a dozen children who called John “uncle”, although he was only related to some of them very distantly.

  “You are a grown-up,” Josh pointed out.

  Nick smiled. “And that means…”

  “Duh, you’ve got more money than me.” A dog stuck its head unexpectedly through a gap in the hedge to their right and Josh stumbled; Nick caught his arm to keep him from falling, but the boy got his feet under him again and darted forward, hand outstretched, before Nick could do anything to stop him. “Good boy, Gizmo. Good boy. Good dog.” The fluffy brown dog’s tongue licked at Josh’s hand ‑‑ they obviously knew each other. “Mom says I can’t have a dog until I’m ten,” Josh explained, patting it on the head one last time before he started walking again.

  “She doesn’t want to have to be the one taking care of it,” Nick guessed.

  Josh nodded. “I would, though. I wouldn’t want the dog to be sad because it thought I didn’t love it enough to take care of it.”

  “I guess,” Nick said, trying to keep up. “Do you have any pets?”

  “A goldfish.” Josh pulled a face. “It just swims. It doesn’t care about anything but that.”

  “It’s a simple life,” Nick agreed. “But boring.”

  “Big time.” Josh shrugged, dismissing the subject. “What do you do? My dad ‑‑ my new dad ‑‑ he’s a doctor. He helps people, sick people. He makes them better.” There was another sidelong glance from eyes that gave Nick a little jolt of surprise because, yeah, they really were like his. “Do you help people?”

  “Sometimes.” Nick thought about how to be honest without telling the whole truth. “I try to. I write things, sometimes. Articles for magazines. Now I’m trying to write a book.”

  “Will it help people?” They paused outside the drugstore, standing far back enough that they didn’t trigger the automatic doors.

  “I hope so.”

  “Not just people who are alive?” Josh asked.

  Nick was so shocked that he didn’t move, not even when Josh went into the store, leaving him standing there on the sidewalk. By the time he’d recovered enough to follow into the cool air-conditioned building, Josh was already standing in front of the battery display, hands on his hips as he looked for the right ones.

  “How did you know that?” Nick asked quietly.

  Josh unhooked a pack of batteries from the display and handed them to Nick as he dug through his pockets for some change. Nick let him; he wasn’t going to interfere with Stacy’s rules by paying for them himself, and he was too focused on what Josh’s answer was going to be, anyway.

  “I…” Josh screwed up his mouth. “I was on the stairs,” he said slowly, carefully, as if he was testing the words. “I heard you and Mom talking. About what you can do.” He took the batteries out of Nick’s hand and began to walk toward the counter. “Pretty cool,” he threw back over his shoulder.

  “You think?” Nick asked. “Hey, wait. You still want a popsicle?” What looked like a freezer case was over to the left.

  “Oh! Yeah.” The boy lit up, suddenly appearing his age again instead of being so serious. “Do you want one? They have bomb pops. Hey, cool! Tongue splashers!” The vivid wrapper led Nick to guess this was one bright with artificial colors.

  “I don’t want one of those,” he said. “How about that snow cone?”

  Josh grabbed it. “They aren’t as good as the ones at the fair, but the bottoms get really syrupy.” He handed it over and they went to pay, Nick giving the cashier several dollars to cover the popsicles and letting Josh keep the change. “So can you?” he asked, as they stepped outside. “Really?”

  “Yes.” Nick said. It was hard not to be stunned at the rate at which the conversation could turn. “Really.”

  “When did you know you could do it?”

  Nick shrugged. “I never couldn’t. I thought everyone could see them but they just didn’t talk about it. Like it was good manners, or something.” He smiled, remembering how confused he’d been about that. “Then one day my mom found out and she was, well, she thought it was cool, too.”

  Too cool. He’d almost have preferred it if she’d freaked. She’d been so eager to share, so insistent that he tell her, describe it, so disappointed that no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t see them…

  Nick cleared his throat, suspicions solidifying. “Uh…you can’t see them, can you?”

  Josh gave a hoot of laughter at the idea and skipped high in the air, a drizzle of melting popsicle trickling down his hand. “Me? No way!” He glanced around them, sobering abruptly. “Are there any here now?”

  “Here?” Nick looked around automatically. “No. None here now.”

  “Whew.” Wiping his brow, Josh left a bright red stripe across his skin without realizing it. “My mom wouldn’t think something like that was cool. She’d totally wig.”

  Nick could guess what that meant. “She didn’t when I told her.”

  “That’s different. You’re not her kid.” Josh slurped his popsicle again. “You’re nice, though. You should move here.”

  “Um…” Taking a lick of his own melting snow cone to give himself a few seconds, Nick thought quickly. “We like it where we are. The house we live in is where my grandparents lived, and where my mom lived when she was a little girl.”

  “Oh.” Josh obviously didn’t find that a compelling reason to live somewhere, but he nodded politely. “Does your mom like you living there?”

  “She’s dead,” Nick told him, his loss old enough that he felt no more than a small pang of sorrow. “She died before I went there, so I don’t really know how she’d feel.”

  Which wasn’t strictly true; his mother would have hated the thought of him returning to the island she’d viewed as a prison, but he didn’t see any need to share that with Josh.

  He got a speculative, slightly disappointed look as if Josh had been expecting another answer. “You don’t talk to her?”

  “No,” Nick said. “She’s gone. She went…wherever ghosts go, when they don’t stay here. Not that many of them stick around after they die.”

  “There wouldn’t be room,” Josh agreed.

  Nic
k thought about walking through a world peopled with everyone who’d ever lived and shuddered, his breath catching, a momentary feeling of suffocation overwhelming him. A hand, sticky and warm, slipped into his, and he glanced down at Josh, fighting to keep his face from showing his feelings.

  “It’s okay,” Josh said. “There’s only a few of them, remember?”

  “I know.” Nick took a slow breath and squeezed his brother’s hand, ignoring the fact that they might be stuck together in a moment or two more. “I’m glad we came to see you.”

  “Me, too. And not just because of the presents.” Josh grinned. “I know about the other thing, too. Mom told me.”

  Nick looked at him, confused. “The other thing?”

  “About you being gay,” Josh confided, lowering his voice because, if nothing else, he’d already learned that some people didn’t approve. “With John. Mom says it’s part of nature. Some boys like boys, and other boys like girls.”

  It was more accepting than Nick would have anticipated, even though he’d known that Stacy hadn’t seemed to have a problem with it. “I think,” he said carefully, “that the most important thing is that you find people who understand you.”

  “And he does?”

  “Always.” It was a simple answer, but that was how it was with John. Their fight had been because, yes, for once the always hadn’t been correct; John hadn’t been able to figure out what was wrong with Nick, and Nick was beginning to appreciate fully just how frustrating that must have been for John.

  “And you live together? In that house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me about the island,” Josh commanded, releasing Nick’s hand and returning most of his attention to his popsicle, which was starting to disintegrate into slush in the sun. “Is it big? Could I walk across it in a day?”

  “Not very big and I don’t know. I don’t know how far you can walk.”

  “A long way,” Josh bragged, his tongue capturing a fragment of ice. “Miles and miles.”

  They were almost at the house. Nick gave Josh’s stained T-shirt a horrified look but decided that trying to wipe it would just make it worse. “Uh…your mom doesn’t get mad when you get messy, does she? Because you can blame me, if you want to.”

  “She won’t get mad.” Josh said it with confidence, but looked down at his shirt and frowned. “She’ll make me change, though. And wash my hands.” He licked around his lips, which just made things worse from what Nick could tell. “And my face. She likes stuff clean. But she doesn’t get mad at me for getting dirty. Even when she wants to.” He took off at a run. “Race you!”

  The boy was already inside by the time Nick had jogged up the front steps, the door left ajar. He went back into the kitchen, where John’s glass of tea had, he noted, been replaced with ice water. Josh was throwing his popsicle stick into the trash and nodding at his mother.

  “I know,” Josh said. “I told Nick you’d say that.” He turned and went past Nick and up the stairs, presumably to change his shirt.

  “I hope it’s okay,” Nick said.

  “Oh, it’s fine. As long as he stays in one piece, I’m happy.” Stacy eyed Nick’s soggy paper cone dubiously. “Can I take that?”

  “I think it’s beyond saving,” Nick agreed, but he moved to the sink and poured the sticky, syrupy ice down the drain before throwing the cone away. “Did John regale you with romantic tales of his homeland?”

  “I told her nothing but the truth,” John said, the corners of his mouth twitching just enough to rouse Nick’s suspicions. “And she still didn’t believe me about the water kelpies.”

  Stacy gave John an indulgent smile very similar to the one Josh had received. “I didn’t, but it still sounds wonderful. Maybe some day William will take us over there and we’ll be able to see your island for ourselves. He goes to London on business sometimes ‑‑ medical conferences ‑‑ and if it was in summer vacation Josh and I could go with him and take a day trip to see you.” She gave them a puzzled look as they grinned and then rolled her eyes. “Okay, did I just say something silly?”

  “No,” John said gently. “It’s just a wee bit farther than you think from London to Traighshee, but you and yours would always be welcome, I can promise you that.”

  Her eyes softened. “You’re both so nice.” Then she looked at Nick shrewdly. “Did he behave himself?”

  “Absolutely,” Nick said. He wondered whether he should tell Stacy that Josh knew about his abilities, but decided that was between them. “He’s a great kid. You must be really proud.”

  “I am.” Stacy smiled as they heard Josh thundering down the stairs again; a moment later he flew into the kitchen, wearing a clean T-shirt and with a package of batteries in hand.

  “I can’t open them,” Josh said, brow furrowed.

  “I never can, either,” John confessed.

  Nick opened his mouth to tell Josh that he’d do it but Josh was already whirling around, holding them out. “Thanks!”

  He took them from Josh, something clicking into place in his head, something just out of reach…

  “This is gonna be so cool!” Josh was enthusing, opening the package with the Gameboy cartridge in it and plugging it into the player while Nick managed to tear the plastic packaging around the batteries open. He handed them over and watched, smiling, as Josh snapped the batteries in place, flipped the player over, and started to play the game immediately.

  “You don’t need the instructions?” Nick asked.

  “Uh-uh.” Josh was staring at the little screen intently, thumbs moving at a furious rate.

  “Where’s the fun in that?” John put in, glancing over at Josh and smiling. “Dive in and find out how it works the hard way.”

  “He’ll be playing that for hours,” Stacy said with a sigh. “Totally oblivious to everything else.” Nick started to apologize but she waved him quiet. “Trust me, long car trips are bliss!”

  Nick grinned. “I bet.” He looked over to John, catching his eye. “We should think about leaving. We’re catching a flight home tonight and we have to check in at seven.”

  “You must be anxious to get back. It must be very peaceful there.” Stacy sounded a bit wistful.

  “It is.” In more ways than she’d have been able to imagine, probably. “But thanks for letting us come by. We were so close; it seemed stupid not to take advantage of it.”

  Josh looked up. “You’re leaving? You just got here.” He looked upset.

  “We have a plane to catch,” Nick explained. “But you can call me. Any time you want. And your mom says maybe you’ll come visit.”

  “Mom?” He looked at her and his eyebrows drew together in an accusing frown. “No, it won’t be too long a trip! I’d like it!”

  “I never said ‑‑” She gave Nick and John a helpless look. “Sometimes it’s like he can just--”

  “Read your mind,” Nick said slowly.

  Stacy laughed, missing the look he gave Josh, a fleeting exchange of glances that left Nick warned to silence. “Exactly! Kids. I suppose it’s because we tend to say the same things and mostly it’s ‘no’.” She ruffled Josh’s hair. “We’ll think about it. Seriously, okay? I mean that.”

  Josh studied her face and nodded grudgingly before giving Nick another look, this time appealing.

  “Could I just say goodbye to Josh alone?” Nick asked. “Maybe in the yard? It’d be nice to have some fresh air before we’re stuck in the terminal for hours.”

  “Of course,” Stacy agreed. “I’ll show John the front garden and you can meet us there.”

  Josh was reluctant to put down his Gameboy, but did so with a minimal amount of grumbling and went out into the backyard with Nick. “Yes,” the boy said as soon as the door closed. “I can. You knew it before.”

  If there’d been any lingering doubt, that did away with it. Nick leaned against the wooden picnic table and watched Josh’s face carefully as he thought about fireworks and cotton candy.

  Rolling his ey
es, Josh threw himself down onto the grass. “Fireworks,” he said, bored. “Cotton candy. What’s candy floss?”

  Nick hadn’t even realized he’d been thinking that. “It’s what they call cotton candy in England.”

  “That’s weird. And anyway, you should believe me because you can see ghosts, right?”

  “Right.” Nick blinked. “Wait ‑‑ you weren’t really listening on the stairs, were you.”

  “Duh.” Josh picked a blade of grass and fitted it between his hands, blowing through them and making a plaintive screeching noise.

  “I believe you.” Nick looked at him. “And, yes, I’m still freaked by it, no matter what I can see. What you can do…Can you turn it off? Not look?”

  “Sure.” Josh nodded. “I have to want to and mostly…I don’t. It gives me a headache, and you…” He hunched his shoulder, a flush deepening on his face. “Grown ups…they’re stupid. Mushy stuff…who cares?”

  Nick swallowed, trying not to think about what Josh might have picked up from his parents, flashing, despite his efforts, to John smiling up at him from a tangle of sheets, his eyes dreamy and sated.

  “Yeah.” Josh sighed. “That.”

  “Then stop it!” Nick’s voice was sharper than he’d intended, but it had the effect he’d wanted; Josh visibly disconnected the link to his power, his face screwing tight with concentration, then smoothing out.

  “Okay. I’m not listening anymore.” Josh pouted. “I don’t do it a lot.”

  “You shouldn’t do it at all,” Nick said helplessly. “It’s…it’s not polite.”

  “Like burping at the table?” Josh gave him a look too cynical for a child his age. “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay, it’s worse. Much worse.” Nick groaned, the pressure of the limited time they had bearing down on him. “Is that all you can do?”

  “I think so.” Josh sounded uncertain. “What else is there?”

  “I don’t know…Can you talk to me? Telepathy? Put words into my head?”

  “I don’t know ‑‑ do you want me to try?” Josh’s face lit up. “I don’t have anyone I can play with, but you ‑‑ you get it. You know…”