The Unauthorized Autobiography of Ethan Jacobs

by Dan Dillard

  Chapter 4

  Ghosts never say, ‘Hey, how’s the weather? I haven’t been outside in decades,' ‘Happy Birthday,’ or ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Casper!’

  They have to play up their ghostly role with spook-speak.

  More likely, audio recorders are acting as weak antennas, picking up signals from over-the-air sources. Every so often, though, something might transmit that seems ‘on topic’, and therefore is thought to be paranormal.

  -Ethan Jacobs, Electronic Journal Entry #17

  ..ooOOoo..

  Ethan got home from work and fed Slobber. He took a beer from the refrigerator and sat down on the couch. His body begged him to stay there—the day had been a bust, starting with the annoying buzz of his alarm clock and going downhill from there. The mental visit with his father had not helped.

  There's nothing else out there.

  His mood was foul, and being social, even with Aaron, was a task he didn't look forward to. If it hadn't been for the surprise his old friend had mentioned, he might have called the evening off. Then he glanced at the stack of books and his laptop and thought maybe he needed to get out and be with some other human beings. He still had forty-five minutes to get there, which would make him not only on time, but early. That would be a switch.

  Ethan scratched the dog on the head and tossed him a rawhide bone.

  “That should keep you busy for ten minutes.”

  Slobber disappeared with the bone into the master bedroom as Ethan closed the door and headed for his vehicle. Within a few minutes, he was pulling into a parking space at the grocery store. As he walked into the store, a silver Toyota rolled past. Inside was Emily Benson, singing loudly to her favorite CD.

  Dazzled by the daunting selection, he chose the first label that caught his eye. A mid-priced red wine claimed it was ‘Perfect for Pasta’. He reasoned it would also work for pizza and took his prize to the register. He wouldn’t drink it, as beer was his preference.With wine bottle in hand and the best intentions at heart, Ethan left the store and wandered through the parking lot to his black Jeep.

  As he started the car, he thought about what he might do if he were a disembodied glob of electricity that could go through walls and had no responsibility, no bills or taxes, no deadlines. He would probably haunt the living, as well, if for no reason but to chuckle at their reactions and to watch women shower.

  His heart wasn’t in this trip. His thoughts bounced between his father and the connection between energy and the paranormal like a tennis match in his brain. He couldn't focus.

  Finding proof that some invisible horde of creatures was watching us would be pretty jacked up, even if they didn’t exactly fit a spiritual or religious definition. Deep down, it was creepy and unsettling and he loved it.

  He made a mental note, hoping to remember the thought for his journal. Maybe he could discuss those ideas with Aaron that evening, but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

  Hey, the pizza rocked, thanks. Where do you think your juice goes when you croak?

  Not very tactful.

  Pulling into Aaron's driveway, he noticed a strange car. Nothing odd about the car in particular, he just didn’t recognize it. Either Aaron traded in his hybrid or someone else was here.

  The thought crossed his mind that maybe Aaron had a new girlfriend. It was strange that a man would invite a friend over to cockblock. Aaron was very meticulous in everything he did, so maybe he was just looking for approval. Then a horrible feeling came over Ethan. He recalled a similar set of circumstances in which Aaron had set him up on a blind date without telling him. This felt disturbingly similar.

  Ethan shrugged off the thought, reasoning that he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to. He would go in and test the waters.

  “Maybe I'll get lucky and she'll only have halitosis,” he said to the rearview mirror.

  It would be easy enough to be courteous to a blind date and then never call her, but what if it was Aaron's girlfriend? Someone he had to be nice to more than once. Then his eyes grew wide.

  “What if she's missing a leg or worse—an eye! How can I make small talk if this chick is missing a fucking eye?”

  He looked at himself in the mirror again and tried to be convincing.

  “Aaron...buddy... I think it’s awesome that you’re in love with a Cyclops.”

  Then he got out of the car, and walked the path to the front door and checked his watch. Five minutes early! Ethan turned the knob and knocked to announce his arrival. Aaron popped his head out from the kitchen and came to greet him.

  “Hey bro! Come on in, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

  “Great,” he said, and swallowed the lump in his throat.

  He managed a smile. Here she comes… the one-legged Cyclops. Ethan steadied himself. Emily stood by the sink in the kitchen next to a little dog. He was relieved that she dressed nicely, and had two eyes and all of her limbs. The fluffy white dog irritated him, as did any woman who couldn't travel without her precious.

  In this case, however, he would try to reserve judgment. She was very attractive.

  The intricacies of the conversation they attempted over pizza covered the usual ‘What do you do's’ and ‘Where are you from's’ with plenty of awkward pauses.

  Emily was nervous at first because Kay hadn't shown up. Aaron apologized and even called Kay to reassure his guest.

  “I'm so sorry,” Kay had said. “I got stuck in a conference until after six. Won’t even be back in town until ten or so and I’m destroyed. Are you okay on your own? I promise Aaron is completely harmless. From what he's told me, Ethan is even less of a threat. I’ll be at the next one.”

  The conversation calmed her down. The glass of wine on top of one shot of vodka helped, as well. Both men were courteous and charming, and since it didn't appear to be a lust fest, Emily relaxed.

  Ethan was preoccupied, but he watched her as they walked from the kitchen to the living room and saw her chuckling to herself.

  “Something funny?” he said.

  “The whole room is a little...beige, isn’t it? I like bright colors… mess. This is just so neat and organized!”

  The men stared at her.

  “That sounded like an insult, didn’t it?”

  She covered her mouth with her hand, a gesture Ethan found instantly adorable.

  He interjected, “Wrapped in a compliment…a very good management skill. You’ll be promoted in no time.”

  Ethan continued, “You’re right, though. If you look in his pantry, the boxes and cans are all facing the same direction and might even be alphabetized.”

  She smiled, and then laughed at Aaron’s expense. Aaron held his hands up and countered with a stern look.

  “They do face out, but only so I can read them. And they aren’t alphabetical…they’re dated so I can rotate new groceries behind the older stuff. Then I track them on a spreadsheet and check things off as I use them. It helps me generate a grocery list.”

  Emily sprayed a little wine out of her mouth.

  “You’re shittin’ me,” she blurted.

  “No. Why?” he said.

   Then the phone rang.

  Recognizing his ring tone, Aaron quickly retrieved a very expensive smart phone out of its case with an irritated sigh, and Ethan could see Emily mentally checking another box in her preconceived image of him.

  Emily looked at Ethan, and whispered, “I think his phone case matches his belt.”

  Then she giggled. Ethan thought it a bit rude, but couldn’t remember a time when Aaron wasn’t attached to that phone.

  “Sorry, guys, I’ve got to take this, give me just a few minutes.”

  He disappeared without waiting for their response. They both shrugged a ‘sure, no problem’ glance his way, likely thinking, ‘what an asshole’, in stereo. Then they looked at each other and smiled.

  Ethan stood up for his friend. “He's not normally this bad.”

  “Sure he
is,” she said.

  He paused for comedy's sake before agreeing.

  “You're right. He's completely lost without work.”

  Rather than dwelling on it, Ethan settled on the couch and Emily on the chair, and they continued their chat.

  “What is it you do at work, Em? Can I call you Em?”

  “Em's fine. I work with contract proposals. Not terribly exciting. Basically, I tell people how expensive our firm is and they pay us anyway,” she said.

  Ethan smiled, “Sounds dreamy. I look for missing quotation marks and math errors.”

  “You're a teacher?”

  “Ha! No, I'm a programmer... although I don't program much. Mainly, I just hunt for mistakes in other people's programming.”

  She nodded her condolences.

  Each traded an edited version of their life story while constantly glancing back toward the bedroom, where Aaron was on the phone. After a while, Ethan’s mind wandered to electricity, and then to spooks, and then...

  Why does this freaking dog keep staring at me? 

   Squirt was small. Small dogs annoyed him due to their tendency to be cat-like. This one wore a blue leather collar that appeared to cost more than the average watch, and he was rockin’ it like a crown.

  “Squirt, huh?” he said.

  How cuddly, he thought. Shitty little dog. 

  “I bet that’s the sound you’d make if I stomped on you, isn't it? Now quit eyeing my forearm like it’s a chew toy.”

  He wagged his finger accusingly and gave Squirt a stern look.

  “Ethan, that's just wrong. He'd never hurt anyone,” she said with extra melodrama.

  “I dunno, he's quite terrifying. It is a he, right? He doesn't have a skirt on,” Ethan said sarcastically but in the spirit of fun.

  Emily laughed at her pet's expense. Ethan realized that the hostility of his day was finding its way to the surface and he took a deep breath to reset. The dog sat proudly with his human, head held high and eyes bright, always keeping one eye on the strange man across the way. As if Ethan weren’t already preoccupied, now he was zoned in on the dog. Still, the animal stared at him, taking the occasional glance up at his owner, wagging his tail when he did so.

  Ethan forced his brain to let the creature go, and then really focused on Emily for the first time. He was captivated by her long, dark hair and her deep brown eyes that sparkled when she smiled—even more when she laughed.

  Unique. Classy. Beautiful.

  His mind drifted again, and he momentarily pictured Slobber violently chewing on Squirt's dead carcass, tail wagging madly. The thought made him laugh.

  “What? Did I say something?” she asked.

  “No, not at all. I just... Ya know what? It's not important. Tell me about you,” he said, and scolded himself internally for the evil thoughts.

  She spoke of her new job and her new apartment. Ethan made the occasional nod or gesture to assure her that he was still listening, but for some reason he stayed focused on the little dog. It was as if something was there he was supposed to notice. Two thoughts in his head trying to connect, searching for the right synapse to jump.

  Even as they said their goodbyes and traded cell numbers ... even as he yelled to Aaron to tell him they were leaving … even as he walked Emily to her car. She held the dog in her arms, an unintentional barrier between her and the new stranger.

  At that moment, Emily patted the dog on its head. 

  As her hand touched its fur, Ethan noticed how it folded its ears back submissively. He watched as its eyes welled up with tears of unconditional love and pure joy for just that trifle of attention.

  That’s when the rolling shade flipped up and light dawned.