In Cassie's Corner

by Mayer, Dale

  "I’m sorry, honey. I know he was a special friend." Abby patted her back.

  "My best friend, Mom." She just didn’t get it. Todd was special. How could he be gone? The world would be such a dark place without him.

  "I’m going out for a while." Cassie raced to her room. From the door she walked to the spot where she’d seen Todd standing. Surely, there’d be some proof he’d been there. She checked the carpet and the windowsill, searching for a speck of dirt, a shoe imprint, something. There was nothing.

  She couldn't stand being inside a moment longer. She raced to her bathroom and washed her face quickly. She hurriedly patted it dry then returned to her bedroom to grab a hoodie. Taking the stairs two at a time, she was out the door in seconds.

  Eyes straight ahead, she headed to the park that had been their special place. It would be full of moms and toddlers at this hour, but she knew an area where she could be alone. Her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID as she walked. Penny. She stuffed the phone back in her pocket, unanswered. She just couldn't talk about this yet.

  At the park, she hiked to the far corner where the original rusty swing set still stood beside the large almost empty sandbox. She’d spent many happy hours here with Todd. Over the years they’d covered almost every topic. Older by almost two years and with a difficult father, Todd had been a great listener through the rough patches growing up. He had understood so much.

  Where was he now when she needed him?

  The sense of letdown, of being abandoned, was stupid. Todd hadn’t left her – he’d died. He hadn't done it on purpose. He wouldn't. She knew that, but knowing it didn’t prevent the wave of anger that washed over her at his absence. Selfish. Stupid. But it had been the same after Grams died.

  Cassie sat on the cracked rubber swing seat, drifting back and forth, the steady creaking of the rusted chain comforting in its constancy. The area was deserted – just the way she liked it.

  Todd used to pick up coffee, then text her to get her butt over here in five minutes or he’d drink both cups. She smiled through her tears, murmuring, "I should have bought one in his honor."

  "Thanks for the thought."

  Who said that? Cassie frowned. "I must be losing it."

  "Scaredy cat."

  The humorous yet so familiar whisper made Cassie drag her feet on the ground, bringing the swing to a halt. Ever so slowly, afraid to hope, she turned around and watched Todd walk toward her.

  "Todd?" His name slipped out on a shocked breath. She let out a whoop and raced toward him. Her heart swelled. She knew everyone had been wrong. She bounced with joy. "They said you were dead!"

  His lips formed a sad smile that made her heart cry. He looked so lost. She reached out to touch him. But touch what? She could almost see through him – his features, his clothes – so substantial yet flimsy. Her hand dropped. She blinked several times.

  "Oh my God! Todd? Are you…a ghost?" She gasped, her eyes opening wide.

  "I am." His eye lit with sardonic humor. Trust him to get a kick out of the situation.

  Cassie gaped like a child seeing Santa Claus for the first time.

  "What? How?"

  "I know. Weird, huh?"

  She shook her head. "No. Weird is eating onion and jam sandwiches or liking punk rock. This is freaky shit."

  He grinned. "Trust you to put it in perspective." He moved a few steps closer.

  A breeze picked up around them. Cassie shivered, wrapping her arms around her tightly. She cast a quick glance around the surrounding area. Were there other ghosts, too? Or was Todd alone? An anomaly?

  Zipping her gaze back to Todd, relief washed through her. "I was afraid you'd disappear when I looked away, like you did last night."

  "And I might. I’m not real good at this yet." His smile, so like when he'd been alive, now lacked his special glow.

  "It’s something you can control? What’s it like?" It’s not what she’d meant to ask, but the question had jumped out. She backed up to her swing and sat, her eyes glued on him as she waited for his answers.

  "It’s not much fun." He shimmered in front of her. "I’m lonely but not alone. I found others like me."

  "Like you?" she asked cautiously. "As in dead?"

  He laughed. That same warm chuckle that had always made her feel special, as if he'd really listened and liked what she said, who she was. "Kinda. Not sure dead is dead, now that I’m here. If you know what I mean."

  Not sure she did, but she assumed he did. "Is this what you meant last night about things that I’ll hear and not to believe them? To hear that you’re dead, only you really aren’t?"

  His humor winked out. "No. I’m definitely dead."

  She frowned, not ready to accept that. "What happened? They say you were drinking and driving. Were you?"

  "No!" He grimaced and glanced away.

  Afraid he didn’t want her to know the truth, Cassie pressed forward. "Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?"

  The muscle in his jaw worked. Finally he closed his eyes, raising his face to the sun as if basking in its warmth. "Cassie, you know I don’t drink and drive. I was in that car, yes. But if I was drinking, I was not driving."

  Puzzled, Cassie studied his face. The rays pierced his form like arrows before landing in the grass behind. Yet he cast no shadow.

  He pivoted, his green eyes glinting as the light hit them. "You know how I feel about that."

  She nodded. His father had often driven drunk until he’d gotten caught after he’d hit an old lady crossing the road. The woman had survived, but Todd’s dad had lost his license for a while. He’d gotten off with only a few months of jail time, served on weekends, and community service for his first offense. Todd hated what his father had done. He’d sworn he would never drink and drive himself.

  Cassie believed him. "If? I don’t understand. And if you weren’t driving, then who was? Don’t you remember?"

  The corners of his mouth turned down as puzzlement filled his eyes. "I don’t know." When she started to speak, he jumped in again, his hands out, imploring. "I know that sounds like a cop-out. But I really don’t remember. Maybe it’s because I’m dead. Or maybe I was drunk, asleep in the car. I don’t know!" He ran his fingers through his curls, almost pulling on them. "It’s driving me crazy, Cassie. I don’t know who was driving or why I’d have let them behind the wheel of my car."

  She studied his face. His last words had that tiny bit of doubt falling away. Todd never let anyone drive his car – ever. "So someone else drove last night. That’s easy. Do you remember who you were with? What you were doing?"

  He shook his head.

  "Let’s start with the last thing you remember."

  "I remember a party at Rob’s house. Low key, normal – yet fun. We played that new game I told you about, on our laptops."

  Cassie rolled her eyes. "Right. That new game. Like there isn’t a new one every month. And as if all four of you gamers don’t go nuts over them every time. How long did you play?"

  "Around eleven, maybe a bit later. Rob’s dad came home about a half hour before and told us to start packing it in. Rob wasn’t real impressed, but, jeez, his dad’s alright, you know. Besides, we didn’t mind, we’d been at it for hours."

  "And?" Cassie prompted. "Then what?"

  "Then I dropped Bryce and Ivan off at home." He stopped and shrugged. "I thought I went straight home myself. But then how did I end up dead?"

  "Good question. We need to track your movements after you left the party. Someone must know where you went."

  "But I wouldn’t have gone anywhere. I was heading home. That’s what, three, maybe four blocks away?" He started to pace. Cassie watched in amazement as his shape slid in and out of focus with his movements. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. "Stop it, will you? You’re making me dizzy."

  Pulling up beside her, so close the tiny scar at the base of his jaw was visible, he sat down suddenly on the other swing. It never moved under his weight.
Her gaze switched from the swing to him and then back again. The rusted chain links shone right through him.

  "Todd, you said you’d seen other dead people––"

  "Some are dead." He shrugged, unconcerned.

  Cassie stared. "I can see how you may not want to dwell on this stuff, but me, I’m just a little confused. You said some of those people are dead – but some aren’t?"

  He shifted sideways in the swing. Cassie shivered, a little creeped out that the rubber didn’t shift. "I don’t know what the others are. I haven’t been here long enough to know anything, remember?"

  "I just wondered. Can any of them help you?"

  "Help me, how?"

  Cassie knew it would sound stupid, but well, she just had to ask. "Todd, is dead forever? Or can you come back?"

  He laughed. "Come back? Like a mistake happened and I shouldn’t be dead? Or do something righteous and be allowed to return?" He shook his head. "I don’t think it works that way. I think dead is dead."

  "Oh." Tears threatened. She choked them back. Cassie hated to think his young life was over. He deserved so much more. She wanted him to have a life. And she wanted to be a part of it.

  "That means a lot to me, you know?"

  She glanced sideways in his direction, holding back a sniffle. "What does?"

  "That you’d like me back. You’re the only one who cares enough to want that."

  Cassie wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Your dad would, I’m sure."

  "Hell, no. He doesn’t care. He’s probably happy I’m gone." Todd laughed, a bitter sound that made her wince. "You know what he’s like."

  She gave a little shrug. She didn’t like his father much, but that was because Adam Spence didn’t appreciate his son. Cassie ached for both of them. Typical males. They grunted in passing. And somehow that was good enough for them. Girls talked about everything. And if they ran out of things to talk about, they started all over again.

  "Well, I miss you, but I’m glad you’re here in this—" She wafted her hand toward his nonphysical form. "Condition."

  Todd laughed, reached out a hand to cover hers. "Thanks, I think."

  She glanced at their joined hands. His hand…and hers underneath, his with a coolness to the touch. Staring up at him, knowing her pain shone clear in her eyes, she said, "I don’t want to lose you – again – but if I have to, I want to make the most of this time. And I’ll help you figure out what happened on the night you died, but I want you to do something for me."

  He frowned. "Like what? I’m not exactly capable of doing much, you know."

  But he was. "Learn the world you’re in. How it works. Maybe speak to these other people. Ask them questions, like how long you get to stay here? And can you hang with me all day, every day?" Which couldn’t be possible for everyone or Grams would be here.

  He laughed. "I know which one I’d prefer." Todd stood, slipped his hands into his front jeans pockets with his thumbs sticking out, a mannerism that was so him. His lips quirked. "Thanks for caring, kiddo."

  Just then his face started to shimmer, thinning, fading. Cassie cried out. "No, wait. Don’t go. Please." She stood up, taking several steps toward him, one hand outstretched.

  "Love ya, Cassie." His form wavered, thinned, then disappeared.

  Cassie sat on her swing for another hour, waiting, hoping he’d come back. She still had so many unasked questions. He didn’t. Still, as she headed back home, she felt much better, her heart much lighter.

  Todd might be dead, but he was still here. For her. For now.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Cassie phoned Rob, one of Todd's best friends and, by extension, one of hers, as she took the boulevard toward home.

  "Hey, this is Cassie. Did you hear about Todd?" She stopped to wait for the traffic light to change before crossing. A chilly breeze swooped down, forcing her to tug the edges of her hoodie together.

  "Yeah, I called you earlier, but you didn’t answer. I posted to your Facebook wall and figured you’d answer when you got a chance."

  Cassie grimaced as she stepped up on the sidewalk. "Sorry about that. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I haven’t been online for the same reason. This has been a terrible time for me."

  "It’s messed up, man. Todd hardly drank, and when he did, he never drove. I don’t get it." His voice choked up.

  "So, you heard he’d been drinking and driving, too?"

  Rob cleared his throat. "Yeah, that’s what everyone’s saying."

  She didn’t dare mention seeing Todd’s ghost. She needed to watch her mouth about that. Her parents would have her at the shrink’s and on medication before dinnertime if it came up again. "What happened that night?"

  "Nothing. We were playing like we always do, then my dad came home and the boys shipped out. No drinking. No drugs. No girls. It was normal."

  That confirmed Todd’s story. "Any idea what time that was?" Cassie zipped her hoodie closed, unable to stop shivering. She’d been cold while she was speaking with Todd too. Did his arrival always come with a cold breeze? After a quick search around, hoping to see Todd, she crossed the road to continue her walk in the sun.

  "Somewhere around ten-thirty or eleven, I think. Todd drove the others home. I’ve already spoken to them. They said they went straight home and have no idea where Todd went afterward."

  "That’s so odd."

  A lone car drove slowly behind Cassie. She turned, but didn’t recognize it. She picked up her pace. It pulled up to the curb beside her.

  "Cassie?"

  Cassie twisted at the voice. "Rob, I’ll call you back. Ivan just pulled up." She clicked off her cell and walked over. She bent down to peer through the passenger window. The window lowered. She smiled at another of Todd’s friends. "Hey. I guess you passed your test, huh? Is this your mom’s car?"

  "Yeah. Did you hear about Todd?"

  Cassie sighed. Already she wasn’t looking forward to the next few days. "Yeah, I did. I was just on the phone with Rob about it. Todd dropped you off last night, didn’t he?"

  Ivan switched off the car engine. "Yeah. We dropped Bryce off first, then me. And before you ask, we didn’t go anywhere and neither did we drink..." He grimaced. "This is pretty tough. Todd was a decent guy – most of the time."

  He didn’t need to elaborate. There was no getting around the fact that Todd was a bit of wild card, and that’s what people would remember.

  Cassie knew the real Todd. Not too many other people did or cared to. Unlikely friends, they’d both needed someone and had been overjoyed to find each other.

  "I’m going to miss him." She straightened. Would Ivan know more than Rob? "He didn’t say if he was going anywhere else after you guys called it a night, did he?" At Ivan’s mystified look, she shrugged. "I just can’t believe he’d drink and drive like that."

  "I know, me either." Ivan turned the car on again. "Do you want a ride home?"

  She shook her head, not comfortable getting into the car with a new driver. Todd had been an excellent driver, had driven her everywhere, and look what happened to him. "I’m good. I need to walk and think things over."

  "Right. See you at school."

  He drove off slowly, steadily, as if aware that this metal-and-plastic-and-glass car that felt so safe could be smashed in an instant. And his body – skin and bones and heart – could as easily be crushed. That, like Todd, he could be dead in a heartbeat.

  Too bad Todd’s death wouldn’t stop other people from drinking and driving...and dying.

  ***

  Todd watched his old friend drive away. When had Ivan gotten his license? Crap, that’s right, Ivan’s test had been the morning after – Saturday morning – this morning. Todd had missed it. He’d been bugging Ivan about his upcoming test for weeks. At least Ivan had passed.

  His brows came together in a frown. He’d wanted to be there to cheer him on.

  Being dead sucked.

  And he had yet to figure out how this appearance and disappearance thing worked. Lik
e could Cassie see him, but no one else? He’d gone to his mom’s house, but neither she nor his brother Jessie appeared to notice him. His dad seemed to sense something through his sadness, but not necessarily in a good way. Then again, the old man was a useless drunk. Since Todd’s accident, he seemed to have gone over the edge.

  Now, as a ghost, sometimes Todd could imagine himself at one location and find himself there instantly. At other times he had to walk there. His feet didn’t touch the ground. He’d tried to travel a foot above the ground, which worked just fine, too. He could sit down and not sink into the objects, yet sometimes they went right through him. Picking up stuff didn’t work either.