Shadow of a Life

by Mute80

  “I was just about to make sandwiches for everyone,” he said.

  “Thanks, Dad, but Cam had to get home. Their family has a yearly Memorial Day barbecue at her house.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot they do that. Can I make the two of you something to eat?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  Dad brought ham sandwiches and a green salad out to the patio table and the three of us began to eat. He and Peter conversed easily, but I found myself continuously blushing. I thought I’d gotten past that. I think it had something to do with my dad seeing me with a boy for the first time. I struggled to hide how I felt about Peter, and I think Dad realized that I wasn’t his innocent little girl anymore. I was relieved when Sophia returned and we had an excuse to leave.

  I’d previously thought Sophia didn’t need improving, but when she came back she was absolutely stunning in an orange sundress with little white flowers embroidered on the hem. Her hair was curled and gently cascaded down her back, tied with an orange ribbon the color of her dress. I was excited for her, but she was a nervous wreck, continuously clasping and unclasping her hands.

  We piled into her car with Peter riding shotgun. I was getting anxious myself and my palms began to sweat. I worried that maybe Nick had been making up stories and was just trying to find a way to ferret Sophia out. What if we show up at the football field to find the Goodwins waiting for us? I would feel horrible if I’d led Sophia into more pain and possibly danger.

  The football field looked a lot different than it did when school was in session and games were being played. It was usually full of students and laughter and noise. That afternoon it was eerily quiet. Sophia parked her car near one of the entrances and we all climbed out. I unlatched the gate separating the parking lot from the bleachers and field. I wasn’t really sure how to proceed so I led our little group out to the fifty yard line and we looked around, waiting for something to happen.

  I saw him first. He appeared about ten feet behind us, looking just as nervous as Sophia. He wore dark blue jeans and a button up shirt. His dark hair was combed in a stylish haphazard way. He looked like a male model on the cover of some magazine standing there with such a serious look on his face. He gave me a questioning look and I smiled and nodded, trying to assure him that it was okay.

  “Sophia?”

  She closed her eyes before turning around.

  “Nick?”

  Twelve and a half decades melted away in just moments. Nick closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye and then they were embracing—laughing, crying, hugging.

  *****

  I watched the happy couple for a moment before Peter grabbed my hand and gently pulled me away.

  “Let’s leave them alone for a while,” he said.

  I thought he would let go of my hand once he got my attention, but he held it all the way to the bleachers and my heart fluttered the entire way. I hoped that my palms wouldn’t start sweating again. We walked up the stairs and sat at the top of the stadium, watching Nick and Sophia below us.

  “Do you think that reuniting them was enough? If this was their way of extrication, how long before they disappear? Do they just vanish?” Peter asked.

  “I have no idea.” I hesitated. “This might sound stupid, but I feel like this is just the beginning. I felt drawn to both of them, and they felt drawn to me, but I don’t feel like it’s ended yet. I still have this burning desire to help them, but now that they’re together I’m scared that one of them is going to finish their business and leave while the other one is still here. I don’t want them to be hurt even more by having to leave each other again.”

  We were interrupted by the beeping of my cell phone alerting me that I had a new text. It was Camille, of course, wondering if we’d found Nick yet.

  “Do you two ever do anything without each other?” Peter asked.

  I thought about it for a second. “Not really.”

  He chuckled. “What’s going to happen when you end up going to different colleges or one of you gets married before the other one?”

  It was my turn to laugh. “Actually, we both plan on going to Newton University since my dad works there . . . and maybe we’ll marry twins. Don’t worry, though, both of those things are a loooong way off. Cam and I can think about it later.”

  “How exactly did you two meet?”

  “In first grade—long before you even moved here. We were assigned to sit next to each other on the first day of Mrs. Novak’s class.”

  “Girls become closer to each other than boys ever do.”

  “Cam is almost like a sister to me, I think. I wouldn’t really know since I don’t actually have any siblings.”

  “I don’t have any siblings either, but you don’t find me constantly attached to any of my friends.”

  “Does it bother you that we’re so close?”

  He looked away. “No. I’ve just noticed that it’s hard for anyone to ever talk to you without Camille being there. She talks a lot more than you do and sometimes it’s just nice to hear what you have to say.”

  “Thanks—I think. Camille’s not here now, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Hmm . . . good question.” We sat in silence for a moment while Peter contemplated his subject matter.

  I thought of all the classes we’d shared, all the field trips we’d gone on together, and all the childhood memories that were ingrained in my mind. For some reason, I kept thinking of all the comedic moments. Apparently Peter did, too.

  “Remember that time in sixth grade when Mrs. Anderson had toilet paper trailing from beneath her skirt all through class?” he asked.

  I laughed. “How could I forget? No one had the guts to tell her. I don’t think anyone learned anything all day because we were so preoccupied with the TP dangling from her backside.”

  “Do you think it eventually fell out on its own or did she find it when she went home that night and put her pajamas on? She was probably humiliated.”

  “Probably. I would’ve been mortified for sure. If it had happened to me, I would have tried to convince my dad that we needed to move—to another state.”

  “I’m sure we all had our fair share of embarrassing moments growing up.”

  “Oh come on, I had more than my fair share.”

  “What did you ever do that was embarrassing?”

  “Uh-uh. You first.”

  “Okay. Let me think.” He tapped his fingers on the bleacher. “I know. One time I was at the park with a bunch of friends. We hadn’t been there in a while and I decided to go down the slide. I climbed to the top and announced to everyone down below that I would be going down the slide head first. I got down on my stomach and pushed myself forward—only my shorts got caught on the handrail and they came off. I went all the way down the slide without pants . . . and everyone watching.”

  I laughed so hard I could barely sit upright. It was a good thing I didn’t have to pee.

  “When was this?” I managed to ask between giggles.

  Peter looked a little sheepish. “I wish I could say it was when I was young, but I’ll be honest—it was last summer.”

  I laughed even harder. “I think that’s the greatest story I’ve ever heard.”

  “What about you? It’s your turn to tell me something embarrassing.”

  I turned red. I’d hoped we could skip over my embarrassing moments. “Okay. One time in fifth grade I went to a fall carnival up in Boston with Camille’s family. We pigged out on all the fried foods they have at those kinds of places and then rode a bunch of rides. I was starting to feel kind of crappy, but we went on the Gravitron anyway. I totally puked when we got off.”

  “Come on. You’ve got to have something more embarrassing than that. Everyone pukes at carnivals.”

  “Yeah, well, I puked all over Camille’s dad.”

  “Eww. Okay, that’s pretty bad. I can just see the look on Mr. Spencer’s face. He’s such a serious guy.”

  Peter and I spent th
e next half hour talking about school and memories of growing up in Marion. Every once in a while we glanced down at the field where the young lovers sat and talked. I saw them kiss a couple of times, but I didn’t say anything about it to Peter. That was a subject I did not want to bring up with him.

  “Where’d they go?” Peter asked a while later, looking down at the field where Nick and Sophia had been sitting.

  I looked down to see that they were no longer on the overgrown fifty yard line. Had something happened to them? What if they’d finished their business and they were gone forever? I didn’t get to say good-bye. I stood up in a panic just as they both reappeared right in front of Peter and me, holding each other’s hand tightly.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “So?”

  “We’re good,” Sophia said, looking up into Nick’s eyes.

  “Jamie, I can’t believe this has happened. I’m so glad I met you yesterday.” Nick turned to Peter and stuck out his hand, introducing himself. “Hi. I’m Nick Trenton.”

  “Peter Ashby. I’m a friend of Jamie’s.”

  “So what do we do now? How do we know if you guys have finished your business?” I asked.

  “I’ve never actually seen it happen before, but Nick says he was with someone once when they extricated. They described a pulling sensation and then they only had a few moments before they disappeared. He said their aura disappeared with them,” Sophia answered.

  “Do either of you feel a pulling sensation?” I was scared to ask.

  “Nope,” Nick responded.

  “Good. I mean, I wouldn’t want you to have to leave each other already. What do we do now?”

  Sophia and Nick exchanged glances again. “We’re going to take a couple of days and go down to Haiti together. I want to see the wreckage of the Mary Celeste.”

  “That’s probably a good idea. I can keep looking into things here while you’re gone. Maybe I’ll uncover something that will help us—if you come back.”

  We all knew that the “if” was the most loaded word of that sentence.

  “When will you leave? What kind of travel arrangements do you need to make first?” Peter asked.

  Sophia laughed in her tinkling way. “We’re ghosts, remember. All we have to do is pick a flight and hop on. Customs can’t hold us back. I really don’t think we’ll be gone for more than a couple of days, but we thought we should leave as soon as possible, before the Goodwins find either of us.”

  “I understand.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll drop you off at home first,” Nick teased. I was thankful that our relationship felt so natural already.

  On the drive back to our neighborhood Peter sat in the back with me while Nick took his new place in the front. He kept his hand on Sophia’s knee as if she would disappear again if he wasn’t touching her. My hand lay on the seat next to me and Peter reached over and covered it with his own, giving it a little squeeze. I turned in surprise and he smiled and winked. Neither of us moved our hands and we sat in silence, no words needing to be exchanged, all the way to Peter’s house.

  When we arrived at my home, Sophia and Nick both got out. I hugged each of them tightly, not sure if that was our final goodbye.

  “Keep me posted, will you?” I said.

  “Of course. Don’t have too much fun without us, either,” Nick said.

  He opened the passenger side car door for Sophia and helped her climb in before walking around and getting in the driver’s seat. He was backing out of the driveway when Sophia rolled down her window and called to me.

  “Hey, Jamie, text Camille and tell her to meet me in her tree house in about ten minutes. She’ll kill me again if I don’t let her meet Nick before we leave.”

  CHAPTER 15

  I lay on top of my bed, staring at the ceiling. It was the middle of the night and I should have been sleeping, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Sophia and the chance that I might never see her again. Since she’d been around, my life suddenly had a purpose. I tried to picture what it would be like when everything went back to normal—whatever normal was—but I couldn’t do it. I predicted that I would find myself pedaling to the library multiple times a week again, but I didn’t think I would find the same joy in books as I used to. Would Peter and I still hang out or would he go back to being the casual acquaintance that he’d been before he got caught up in the insane ghost business with me? Would I find myself constantly looking over my shoulder for someone hiding in the shadows?

  After lying in bed for what felt like an eternity, I got up and flipped the switch of the lamp on my bedside table. I pulled out my laptop and looked up flights, wondering if Sophia and Nick had already left. There was a Delta flight going to Port-au-Prince via Washington D. C. and an American Airlines flight going to Port-au-Prince via Miami. Both were leaving around dawn. I tried to imagine Sophia and Nick huddled in the baggage compartment, completely invisible, but who was I kidding—they would totally be riding invisibly in first class.

  I must have eventually drifted off to sleep because the next thing I remembered was Dad knocking softly on my bedroom door. In my blurred state of mind, it took me a while to figure out what the tapping noise was and where it was coming from. My lamp was still turned on, but my computer had slid off my lap and rested next to me on the bed.

  “Yeah?” I called groggily.

  “It’s Dad. Sorry to wake you.”

  “It’s fine. Come in.”

  I looked at my alarm clock. It wasn’t even six yet. I rubbed my eyes as Dad entered the room fully clothed in a black suit with a red and grey paisley tie.

  “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. Sorry I have to leave so early.”

  I’d completely forgotten that he was leaving for Chicago. “It’s alright. I wasn’t sleeping very well anyway.”

  “I made sure there’s plenty of money in your household account and I left a list of things I’d like you to get done in the next couple of days. I hope to be back Friday, but it might be as late as Saturday.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll keep my cell phone on in case you need to reach me. Please make sure you take yours if you go anywhere.”

  “I will.” Early morning conversations weren’t really my thing. Dad was used to my short answers.

  “I love you. Be good.” He disappeared into the hallway and shut the door behind himself.

  I lay back against my pillows and sighed. I wasn’t sure if I should even try to go back to sleep at that point. It seemed useless. Instead, I opened my computer again and made notes of things we could do while Sophia and Nick were gone. There were still a couple of museums that we could visit. They might have something in their collections that would be helpful. I decided that our goal for Tuesday would be to visit the Sippican Historical Society and maybe take a bus up to Salem to visit the Peabody Essex Museum. If I remembered correctly, the museum had some of Captain Briggs’ belongings that had been found on the Mary Celeste. I forced myself to stay in bed until seven and then got up. I blared the radio while I showered and dressed. I could handle quiet when Dad was around—or when he was at work—but there was something about him being out of the state that always made me want to have background noise so that I didn’t feel completely alone. That was the first business trip he’d gone on since I found out about the existence of ghosts and I didn’t feel all that safe.

  I decided to look at the list Dad left so that I could get most of it done before I met up with Cam and Peter. Dad always left “chore lists” when he went out of town. They made me laugh because most of what was on them were pointless things I did normally without ever having to be asked. I knew he trusted me, but I figured it was his way of trying to be a parent, rather than a roommate. The list was small:

  *Water the plants

  *Check the mailbox

  *Wash any needed laundry

  *Take out the trash if you fill it up

  Love you, Dad

  Yep. It was definitely one of Dad’s typical list
s. I could have it all done in fifteen minutes. We had a couple of houseplants on a stand in the living room. I quickly watered them, pulled off a few dead leaves, and then re-filled the water of the Memorial Day flowers still on the kitchen table. I threw a load of my clothes into the washing machine, dumped some soap in, and turned it on. I slipped my feet into a pair of pink flip-flops and walked to the curb. No mail. I’m sure Dad had checked it the day before anyway. There was never anything for me so I could probably wait a few days before I needed to check it again. I went back to the kitchen and opened the garbage can lid. All that was in there was an empty yogurt container which my father must have eaten before he left. There—I was all done with chores. I looked at the clock. It was only 8:07. What am I supposed to do all day?

  All I could think about was Sophia and Nick. I convinced myself that they were in the air somewhere. I wandered back into the living room and opened the cabinet holding our television. Neither Dad nor I watched much TV, but right then it seemed like a good way to kill some time. I flipped through a few channels before I settled on a morning news show.

  Two anchors—one male and one female—were seated at the large news desk. He had black hair that was plastered to his head in such a way that I couldn’t decide if it was real or a toupee. She had a poufy hairdo and wore so much makeup that it probably took her an hour to remove it every night. I didn’t find the male anchor particularly interesting, but every time he would say something the female anchor would toss her hair back and laugh. That movement was usually followed by a dumb comment. When they got to a serious story (a car accident that killed a mother and her son) she put on a sad pouty face, as if she hadn’t been laughing just a moment before. The whole thing felt staged and I wondered if she—or they—had majored in drama instead of journalism.