knew about her own strength and resilience that brought her to tears, tears that were still on her cheeks when she awoke. She lay in the stillness for some time that night, touching the tears on her cheeks and willinghim to come back, to come back to her when she was awake. But she knew, at the heart of it, that she was a little afraid of him, too. After all, he was a ghost.
He didnât appear to her. Not that night. And not for many nights to come. He came in dreams, with the usual frequency, and each time he got healthier looking. With the exception of the water park dream, heâd always show up in some kind of wheeled cart, most recently a hay wagon. He was the most like a live person in that dream. Dressed all in black, and refusing to make eye contact, and, frankly, a bit crabby, but in the dream, she believed he was alive. She knew he was special in some way, troubled in some way, but she also knew he was in the world. She hadnât seen him be that way, a participant in the world, since six months before his death. She woke up feeling joy, and thatâs when she saw him. He was sitting in the chair beside her bed watching her.
She tried to scream, but couldnât, as if she were still sleeping. She managed a kind of strangled cry, but he sat impassively. He flickered in and out, as if he were a radio with bad reception, but it was him for sure. Not because it looked like him, necessarily, Leah would explain, or try to explain, to Charlotte later that day, but just because it WAS him. She couldnât be clearer about it. Just, she knew it was Nathan, she knew he was there, she knew it was for real.
And after that, he was always with her. At first, having him around was great. Leah felt like she could take incredible chances, and Nathan would look out for her. It was a feeling she had of invincibility and divine intervention in her stupid, messy life. She tested this feeling by stepping into the road without looking both ways, and was exhilarated when cars screeched to a halt for her. Charlotte pointed out that this was likely because she lived in Halifax, where drivers would stop if a pedestrian so much as looked at the curb, and not because her dead brother was watching over her. But Charlotte was occasionally tediously attached to empirical evidence, as Leah did not hesitate to point out, and Charlotte was hard pressed to argue with her on that front.
Most of the time, Nathan kept to himself. She couldnât always see him, but she had a sense that he was there. And most of the time, she found it comforting. She experimented a little with talking to him, but she wasnât sure what she should tell him or what heâd want toknow. Sheâd asked him things occasionally, like why he was with her and not at home with Rebecca, but Nathan would flicker out under questioning, and Leah didnât like to upset him, so mostly she didnât say anything.
She thought about explaining where her head had been those last six months heâd been alive, but every time she tried to tell him, it came out wrong. Nathan would just hold his hands up in front of him each time another of her ham-fisted explanations started. Heâd hold his hands up and look away, look down, off to the side. It was disconcerting. Leah remembered reading somewhere that if you were visited by a ghost and you wanted them to leave, you just held your hands up and said,
no
. Thatâs what it looked like Nathan was doing. It was upsetting for both of them, and eventually, she stopped trying.
Her failure ate away at her though, in a way it hadnât before heâd started hanging around her. She did her best to put it out of her mind, but she could feel him standing behind her, or moving around her almost all the time, and it was difficult to forget something that had proved to be so formative. It was starting to make her edgy, keeping it inside, but eventually Leah got busy with more recipe work, and that made it easier
He didnât appear to her. Not that night. And not for many nights to come. He came in dreams, with the usual frequency, and each time he got healthier looking. With the exception of the water park dream, heâd always show up in some kind of wheeled cart, most recently a hay wagon. He was the most like a live person in that dream. Dressed all in black, and refusing to make eye contact, and, frankly, a bit crabby, but in the dream, she believed he was alive. She knew he was special in some way, troubled in some way, but she also knew he was in the world. She hadnât seen him be that way, a participant in the world, since six months before his death. She woke up feeling joy, and thatâs when she saw him. He was sitting in the chair beside her bed watching her.
She tried to scream, but couldnât, as if she were still sleeping. She managed a kind of strangled cry, but he sat impassively. He flickered in and out, as if he were a radio with bad reception, but it was him for sure. Not because it looked like him, necessarily, Leah would explain, or try to explain, to Charlotte later that day, but just because it WAS him. She couldnât be clearer about it. Just, she knew it was Nathan, she knew he was there, she knew it was for real.
And after that, he was always with her. At first, having him around was great. Leah felt like she could take incredible chances, and Nathan would look out for her. It was a feeling she had of invincibility and divine intervention in her stupid, messy life. She tested this feeling by stepping into the road without looking both ways, and was exhilarated when cars screeched to a halt for her. Charlotte pointed out that this was likely because she lived in Halifax, where drivers would stop if a pedestrian so much as looked at the curb, and not because her dead brother was watching over her. But Charlotte was occasionally tediously attached to empirical evidence, as Leah did not hesitate to point out, and Charlotte was hard pressed to argue with her on that front.
Most of the time, Nathan kept to himself. She couldnât always see him, but she had a sense that he was there. And most of the time, she found it comforting. She experimented a little with talking to him, but she wasnât sure what she should tell him or what heâd want toknow. Sheâd asked him things occasionally, like why he was with her and not at home with Rebecca, but Nathan would flicker out under questioning, and Leah didnât like to upset him, so mostly she didnât say anything.
She thought about explaining where her head had been those last six months heâd been alive, but every time she tried to tell him, it came out wrong. Nathan would just hold his hands up in front of him each time another of her ham-fisted explanations started. Heâd hold his hands up and look away, look down, off to the side. It was disconcerting. Leah remembered reading somewhere that if you were visited by a ghost and you wanted them to leave, you just held your hands up and said,
no
. Thatâs what it looked like Nathan was doing. It was upsetting for both of them, and eventually, she stopped trying.
Her failure ate away at her though, in a way it hadnât before heâd started hanging around her. She did her best to put it out of her mind, but she could feel him standing behind her, or moving around her almost all the time, and it was difficult to forget something that had proved to be so formative. It was starting to make her edgy, keeping it inside, but eventually Leah got busy with more recipe work, and that made it easier
Similar Books
