Ghost Time

by Courtney Eldridge

  Hey, Cam said, walking down the front hall. You’re here, he said. I’m here, I said, trying to smile, but feeling like my lips were doing something strange, pursed, I don’t know. Come sit down, Thea, Karen said, turning and then turning back. Oh, do you want me to hang your bag? she asked. No, it’s fine, I’ve got it, thanks, I said, following her into the living room, and Cam following behind. I took a seat at the end of the couch, and I looked around the room, and it was… stylish. I didn’t see many stylish rooms. Style, period. In magazines, yes. But here, in this town, people chose floral wallpaper and matching drapes and carpeting and American Colonial dining room sets. But this, this was, this was stylin’. I wanted Karen to decorate our place. Except that I never ever wanted her to see our apartment.

  Cam, why don’t you get her something to drink? she said. What would you like? he asked. Anything, I said, realizing how stupidly agreeable I sounded, and he nodded. Coming right up, he said. I love your house, I said, smiling at Karen, sounding stupid again, wanting to pound my head against the wall first chance I got. Thank you, she said, smiling, still taking me in. I brought you something, I said, remembering why I’d held on to my bag. I didn’t have any money to bring anything, and Nanna drilled it into me, you always take something with you when you’re invited to someone’s house, so I drew her a picture of flowers. I looked up a bunch of things online, and I chose the flowers, just like I would if I actually had the money and we had a posh florist who’d have flowers like those. I didn’t have a chance to go to the flower shop, so I drew these instead, I said, suddenly realizing how dumb I sounded.

  Cam walked in then, holding two glasses of something with bubbles, and I wanted to run out of the house. Oh, look at that, she said, looking at the picture, really looking at it, and then looking up at me, like she was looking to see if I’d really drawn it, myself, and then looking at the picture again. Thea, this is so much better than real flowers, she said. And I love real flowers, don’t get me wrong, but this is just beautiful. Thank you, she said, beaming, showing it to Cam. And then he looked at me, looked at his mom again, and then handed me my drink, smiling.

  Cam told me you’re very talented, she said, smiling, still looking at the picture. Thank you, I said, taking a sip of my drink. Cherry seltzer. Made me burp, but I hid it. Cam, go grab the box, will you? Karen asked, taking the drink from him. Cam stepped out of the room and returned with a big cardboard box, setting it down by me. We saved a few things for you, things Cam said you might want. So take a look, Karen said, please. I peeked inside the box, and I saw right away: it was a Super 8 camera and a box of film, and I pulled it out, no idea what to say.

  You like it? Cam said, and I nodded yes, yes! I’ve always wanted a Super 8, I said, totally blown away that she was giving it to me, and Karen smiled. Well, just so you know, there are a couple pieces missing, but I’m sure anyone with an Internet connection could track them down with a little effort, she said, but looking at Cam, not me. If you want to keep it, I said, thinking maybe Cam had been eyeing the camera for himself, but then he shook his head. No, he said, I want you to have it—even if it doesn’t work. Yet, Karen said, winking at me, before excusing herself, leaving us alone.

  Go on: check it out, Cam said, handing me the camera, and I looked through the lens, turning to him, wishing it worked and had film. When’s your birthday? he said, and I lowered the camera. June, I said, biting the inside of my lip, and he said, June what? And I said, June 16. Ah-ha, he said, curling his tongue between this teeth. It’s your sweet sixteen, right? he said, and I said, Why do you ask? And he shrugged, I don’t know, it’s just that we don’t buy gifts in my family; birthdays, Christmas, you have to make something. So I was thinking maybe I’d fix this for you for your birthday. We’ll see, I said, raising my brow, trying to act all cool, but all I could do was stare at my feet, kicking the heel of my Converse against the toe of my other shoe.

  What, Cam said, you don’t believe me? Fifty bucks—no, make it a hundred—a hundred bucks, he said, making me a bet. I said, A hundred bucks, what? And he said, A hundred bucks says I’ll get this thing working and give it back to you for your sixteenth birthday. If you’re nice, maybe I’ll even throw in a projector, he said, and I couldn’t help smiling—couldn’t even look at him, that bitter feeling in my cheeks. Still staring at my feet, a voice in my head started screeching, Please don’t make me any promises you can’t keep, Cam, because it’d break my heart, and I think he saw it, too, because then he reached for my hand. He took my left hand in his and he shook my hand, looking me in the eye, shaking on it. Deal? he asked, and I smiled: Deal, I said.

  He let go and then he handed the camera back to me, Hold that for a sec, will you? he said, getting up and heading for the kitchen, and I got up to follow. Standing there, in the doorway, watching them together, I knew I’d always remember the day I met Karen for the first time, looking at the two of them through the lens of a Super 8 camera.

  WEDNESDAY, JUNE 1, 2011

  (EIGHT WEEKS LATER)

  10:19 AM

  The lawyers came over to tell us there was some film company making a made-for-TV movie about my life. I guess they’re saying it was based on a true story, and they weren’t saying it was me, but it was obvious it was me: When an upstate New York girl’s boyfriend disappears, her life is turned upside down. That’s the description, okay: tell me that’s not me. Even better, they sold the deal for more than half a million dollars, and now they’re getting some big actress to play the role of this mysterious upstate girl, and when Mom told me that, I couldn’t even ask who was going to play the me they weren’t saying is me.

  Mom said the lawyers said it was happening, whether we liked it or not, and there was only so much they could do, and of course, if I didn’t agree to the book deal or anything being offered, like right now, I might never get another chance. So, basically, they’re telling me my days as a hot commodity were numbered, and I’d have to live with other people making money off my story. I got a headache, sitting at the table, listening to her tell me what the lawyers said. I mean, not a real headache, the pressure, because I can’t… I can’t take it anymore. I can’t do this anymore. Seriously, I just wanted to disappear, find an island without any Internet or TV, and never be heard or seen again.

  Thea, there are some offers you need to consider, whatever you decide, and I said, No. I want you to go now, speaking to the lawyers. I won’t have this conversation without Cam—I’m not talking to anyone without Cam here. She said, Thea, please, baby, you’ve got to face—. Face what? I said, clenching my jaw, I’ve got to face what, Mom? She shook her head no, she didn’t mean that. But she did—I could see it in her eyes, she was this close—this close to telling me I had to face facts. I knew what she was thinking, and maybe I was in denial. All this time, maybe that’s how I’ve been able to function, because I was in denial about Cam, about the people outside our front door, about being on the nightly news, about becoming the teen porn queen of the Internet. If it hadn’t been for denial, I think I would have truly lost my mind. But there still comes a point when you can’t avoid it anymore, and you have to ask yourself, What if Cam is dead? And how long—what, three months, six months, a year? How long are you going to wait before accepting that whether he’s alive or dead, you have to go on without him? There’s no avoiding it, but so far, there was only one answer: Not today. I’m not going on without him today.

  I told my mom I needed to think and when I went back to my room, I closed the door, and I could see how bright it was outside, almost eleven o’clock. I had to close the curtains all the time, because people would take pictures through our windows. Crazy, you know? Still, looking out the window, you could just feel how nice and warm it was outside, what a beautiful day it would be to go for a picnic or do something in the park, call Mel and Knox, see if they could pick me up, maybe?

  But then I remembered. I couldn’t even step outside my front door these days. There were camera crews that actually spent the nigh
t in the parking lot, in front of our house, in case I walk outside. People were actually camping in our parking lot, and sometimes I wanted to go out there and ask them, Do you honestly care about this story? Seriously, do you care enough about my life or is this just money to you? Because I didn’t think they cared at all. Really, you know how they say people see what they want to see? I’m not really so sure about that. Because the thing is, I haven’t seen anything I want to see. And now there was a movie being made, based on a true story, no matter what I do or don’t do. All I want to know is, what’s the true part?

  SATURDAY, OCTOBER 23, 2010

  (SIX MONTHS EARLIER)

  6:00 PM

  That first time, the first time Cam kissed me, it wasn’t really what I’d imagined. What I mean is, it didn’t happen the way I thought it would, with us sitting in his front seat or standing at my door, or even standing on the stairwell, in front of the building, where it’s dark. That’s where I always thought he’d kiss me, when I thought about it, but of course that’s not how it happened.

  What happened is, on Saturday, when Cam picked me up, I got in, and he asked if I wanted to go for a drive. I said, Sure, where did he want to go? He said, Let’s take the back roads and see where we end up, and I couldn’t have cared less where we went or what we did. The thing is, I’ve lived here for three years now, but driving with him, it was like I’d never seen any of those towns or roads or ever been anywhere before. I took my old Nikon, and we talked, but mostly, we drove and watched. I didn’t feel stupid that I had nothing to say, I didn’t feel like I had to ask him questions about himself or do anything. I could just be there, sitting beside him, and for once, I didn’t worry.

  So we drove all afternoon, and it was strange, you know? Like those times when, suddenly, you feel so close to your parents again after so many months of not getting along, fighting, bickering, whatever, and then for some reason, you remember how much fun you can have with them, how much you love them? It’s just a flash, but there’s this moment when you see how badly you treat them sometimes, how much you take them for granted. Driving with Cam that day, that’s how I felt about Fort Marshall and all the other towns, and this whole part of the country. It’s so beautiful here, and I take so much for granted. All I could ever think about was getting the hell out of this place, and maybe that’s not the only direction, you know?

  When we got back, it was about six, just getting dark. So we stopped at Silver Top, and when we walked in, Sharon smiled. We’d been there a few times by then, but she could tell it was different. When I walked in, sat down at our booth, I swear there was a halo around me, I was so happy. I ordered a grilled cheese and Cam had a burger, and we just sat there, talking. I don’t remember what we were talking about: I just remember the moment I looked up, and two hours had passed. And I had to pee so badly, having had two huge Diet Cokes, because my mouth kept getting dry. So for like an hour, I just crossed my legs and squeezed, because I didn’t want to break the spell.

  But then, finally, I had to go; I was dying. Actually, Cam was the one who pushed himself off the table, squeezing out, saying, I’ll be right back, heading for the men’s room. So then I waited, and we switched off. When I returned to the booth, he said, We should get you home, and I smiled, even though I so didn’t want to go home. Then I took out my purse to get money, and Cam said, I already paid, and he stepped back, waiting for me to go first out the door. That’s when I finally realized, like, Wow, is this a date? This sounds so dumb, but I swear even the old bell, over the door, was happy for me.

  The whole way home, I couldn’t think of a thing to say, because I kept wondering if he was going to kiss me when we got to my house. And my stomach reminded me of an old neighbor of ours, back in Poughkeepsie, whose cat had a litter. I remember holding one, how this teeny tiny kitten kneaded its paws against my stomach, while I cradled it. I felt like I had that kitten with me, but on the inside, kneading me on the inside, in my intestines, all the way down to my butt. I’m sorry, but it’s true, everything kneading and gurgling and nervous.

  When we got back to my place, he parked up front, and said, I’ll walk you in. You don’t need to, I said. No, I want to, he said, so we got out, and he followed me toward the stairs. My mom’s home, I said, seeing the lights on in our living room, before we reached the door. You want to sit down for a minute? he asked, nodding at the rail. Sure, I said, because I couldn’t invite him inside, with my mom there. So we sat on the second floor, with our legs dangling through the metal railing, watching the cars on the highway. And as ugly as it is, as much as I hate to look at it in the daytime, the highway and the strip mall on the other side, I was thinking there’s something so beautiful about red and orange taillights at night. I smiled, so happy to be exactly where I was, and then Cam leaned over and kissed my cheek, smiling back at me. I looked at him, not sure what he was doing, or what I was supposed to do back, after he kissed my cheek, and then he laughed, seeing the look on my face. No rush, he said.

  And then I kissed him. I leaned over, and I kissed him. Not, you know, intensely or anything, just… light. It wasn’t conscious or whatever, that’s just how it happened. I mean, I thought it’d last longer, you know. It was sweet, and his lips were so soft and warm and didn’t shake, like mine, tense and dry-mouthed. When I leaned back, my stomach gurgled, and it was so embarrassing, because he heard. But the best part of it was, actually, it was over. I kissed him; it was done, and I could quit worrying about it. Then my stomach growled again, even louder, and I crossed my arms over my stomach, Ohmygod, I said. When Cam stopped laughing at me, he ran his finger around my ear, pulling my hair back, then he reached his arm over his head, alley-oop, and pulled my head on his shoulder, holding it there. I took a deep breath, and the smell of his neck made me want to bite him, suck him, give him a hickey—just the most awful burning and fluttering in my stomach, my mouth, my head.

  And sure enough, who pulls into the parking lot? Rain Man. Couldn’t believe it. I mean, the fact that Ray was there at all, which meant I’d have to deal with him on Sunday morning, and then, just to make matter worse, he’d expect me to introduce him to Cam. Which is the last thing I wanted to do. Gotta go, I said, grabbing the rails with both hands, pulling myself up. Why? Cam said, standing up. My mother’s boyfriend is here, I said, and I can’t. I’m sorry, I said. No problem, he said. Call me tomorrow?

  Sure, I said, smiling. All right, he said, and he leaned over and kissed me, and we were standing far enough back that Raymond couldn’t see, and then he touched the side of my face, and left. I stood there, waiting, and I leaned over the rail to see what would happen. Ray had gotten out of his car, and first thing he did was walk over, checking out Cam’s car, and then he balked, seeing Cam head for the car, taking out his keys, making it clear it was his car. The best part was when Cam gets to Raymond, and then he breezed by him, not a care in the world. Hey, Cam said, raising his hand, being cool, but looking at Raymond, like, Dude, mind if I get in my car now?

  Hey, Raymond said, stepping back and pressing the alarm on his car, standing there, waiting for this kid, who obviously wasn’t from around here, to acknowledge him. And Cam was perfectly nice, chill about the whole thing. Take it easy, Cam said, shutting the door, and I started laughing, knowing Raymond wanted to ask Cam who he was, but not being able to, because Cam wouldn’t give him the opening Raymond needed to ask about the car. Ohmygod, it was so funny, I leaned over the rail, my shoulders shaking. And I thought Cam would leave, drive off, but he didn’t. He just sat there, watching me laugh, waiting for Ray to walk upstairs.

  Hey, Theadorie, Ray said, reaching the top stair, heading toward me, for our door. Ray, I said. Friend of yours? he asked, looking over his shoulder at the parking lot. But I didn’t answer, didn’t turn around. I just smiled at Cam, watching him start his car. Bye, I said, mouthing the words, and he held up his hand, pressing it against the inside of the front window. I held up my right hand and spread my fingers wide apart. When I think about
the first time we went out, the first time we kissed, what I remember most is watching my hand, steady in the dark.

  MONDAY, JUNE 6, 2011

  (NINE WEEKS LATER)

  7:14 AM

  It was a Monday. For some reason, it was just me and the IV Babies, the Garner twins, standing at the bus stop. It’d been raining all night, and the sky was still gray, and there were all these worms on the road. The twins used to bother me a lot more, but then I thought they were kind of funny, because they’d always freaked Cam out. The first time we saw them we were at the store. Mom called and asked me to pick up some toilet paper on my way home, this list of things we needed, didn’t matter. I was with Cam, and as long as we got to spend more time together, I didn’t care what she needed me to do. So we were walking around, trying to find the paper products, and we turned the corner, and Cam almost screamed. Not like I scream, but like a guy screams, because the freaky twins were just standing there, in the middle of the aisle, like they’d been waiting for us. Lucy and Lucas, that’s their names. They didn’t say anything, either. They just stared at us, and I pulled Cam away, turning back down the aisle.

  Thee, he said: did you see that? Did you see those kids, the way they were just standing there? Yeah, they ride my bus, I said. Freaky, right? It’s that skin, they have that skim-milky-blue skin. They never talk, either. They just stare at you, I said, opening my eyes, staring at him like the twins stare. They remind me of those twins in The Shining, he said, shuddering. Remembering that, I couldn’t help smiling at them at the bus stop, standing shoulder to shoulder, staring at the worms on the road. When they heard me laugh, they turned and stared, just like always, except I couldn’t take it anymore.