mentioning Doug’s live-in ghost and keeping any related books out of sight when I talked to him. Eventually I learned that Doug wasn’t all that unusual; he liked G.I. Joe and Transformers and action movies, he enjoyed math and history but wasn’t a fan of English or social studies. Neither of us liked going to gym class, and we began to bond over a hatred of soccer and a love of ping-pong.
After a couple of months, I decided it was time to broach the subject again one Friday during lunch.
“ Doug, I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I want to know what the deal is with your ghost.”
We were sitting across from each other at the table, and like the first time we talked, Doug’s face fell. He kept his gaze fixed on his tray.
“ Owen, I really don’t want to talk about it.”
I leaned forward. “Dude, you have to talk about it with someone. It’s totally bothering you, and if you don’t get it off your chest, you’re always going to be miserable.”
For a long moment, Doug just sat there, avoiding eye contact. Finally he glanced up at me.
“ My family is haunted.”
“ What do you mean?”
“ In the last ten years, we’ve moved four times. Every time we move, the ghost goes away for a little bit, but it eventually finds us. Then it gets worse, until we have to move again.”
“ Have you seen it?”
Doug looked away from me. “Just glimpses, now and then. Movement in the corner of your eye, or in a shadow, or a mirror. We don’t have any mirrors in the house any more. But it makes noises, whispers sometimes. And things move, or fall off tables and shelves.”
I was completely hooked. “What does it look like?”
Doug shook his head. “You can’t really tell. None of us ever see it clearly.”
“ Well is it like a person, or more like a blurry ghost, like something from a movie?”
“ Like a blur, but now and then, you might see something like an arm, or a head, or part of a face. When we started to see that, that’s when we got rid of the mirrors. It’s always clearest in the mirrors.”
Neither of us said anything for a long while. I mulled the idea over in my mind.
“ Doug, can I come over to your house?”
He looked at me with a panicked expression. “NO! That's a really bad idea. My parents don’t want people over.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Dude, you’ve got to be kidding me. They don’t want you to have friends over? That’s nuts. They have to be happy that you have friends, right? Or at least a friend?”
I could see the last words struck a nerve. “They know I, well - that we talk now and then.”
“ Well, bring me over to stay the night. We don’t need to tell them why, we’ll just hang out and watch movies. I’m sure they’d like to see you living like a normal kid for a change.”
“ Normal kid? I am a normal kid, Owen. Don’t be an asshole.”
I gave a small, embarrassed shrug. “Look, all I’m saying is that your parents want you to be happy, and maybe if I hang out with you, crash there for the weekend, maybe it’ll make them happy too. You know what I mean?”
Just then the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. Doug stood up and grabbed his tray. “I’ll talk to them about it, but don’t expect them to say yes.”
“ Okay, cool. Just talk to them about it - who knows.”
I spent that weekend wondering what the answer would be, and kept imagining what his parents would say; if they would tell Doug no, worried that I would make fun of him or get scared, or if they would say yes, desperate to see their son interacting with a kid his age like any normal thirteen year old.
Come Monday, I went hunting for Doug, but eventually a teacher told me he was out sick. Tuesday came and went, with no sign of Doug. Had his parents become so angry at him that he was beaten? I had no idea what they were like, or what either of them did for a living. Doug never wanted to talk about his family, so his home life - except for what
After a couple of months, I decided it was time to broach the subject again one Friday during lunch.
“ Doug, I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I want to know what the deal is with your ghost.”
We were sitting across from each other at the table, and like the first time we talked, Doug’s face fell. He kept his gaze fixed on his tray.
“ Owen, I really don’t want to talk about it.”
I leaned forward. “Dude, you have to talk about it with someone. It’s totally bothering you, and if you don’t get it off your chest, you’re always going to be miserable.”
For a long moment, Doug just sat there, avoiding eye contact. Finally he glanced up at me.
“ My family is haunted.”
“ What do you mean?”
“ In the last ten years, we’ve moved four times. Every time we move, the ghost goes away for a little bit, but it eventually finds us. Then it gets worse, until we have to move again.”
“ Have you seen it?”
Doug looked away from me. “Just glimpses, now and then. Movement in the corner of your eye, or in a shadow, or a mirror. We don’t have any mirrors in the house any more. But it makes noises, whispers sometimes. And things move, or fall off tables and shelves.”
I was completely hooked. “What does it look like?”
Doug shook his head. “You can’t really tell. None of us ever see it clearly.”
“ Well is it like a person, or more like a blurry ghost, like something from a movie?”
“ Like a blur, but now and then, you might see something like an arm, or a head, or part of a face. When we started to see that, that’s when we got rid of the mirrors. It’s always clearest in the mirrors.”
Neither of us said anything for a long while. I mulled the idea over in my mind.
“ Doug, can I come over to your house?”
He looked at me with a panicked expression. “NO! That's a really bad idea. My parents don’t want people over.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Dude, you’ve got to be kidding me. They don’t want you to have friends over? That’s nuts. They have to be happy that you have friends, right? Or at least a friend?”
I could see the last words struck a nerve. “They know I, well - that we talk now and then.”
“ Well, bring me over to stay the night. We don’t need to tell them why, we’ll just hang out and watch movies. I’m sure they’d like to see you living like a normal kid for a change.”
“ Normal kid? I am a normal kid, Owen. Don’t be an asshole.”
I gave a small, embarrassed shrug. “Look, all I’m saying is that your parents want you to be happy, and maybe if I hang out with you, crash there for the weekend, maybe it’ll make them happy too. You know what I mean?”
Just then the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. Doug stood up and grabbed his tray. “I’ll talk to them about it, but don’t expect them to say yes.”
“ Okay, cool. Just talk to them about it - who knows.”
I spent that weekend wondering what the answer would be, and kept imagining what his parents would say; if they would tell Doug no, worried that I would make fun of him or get scared, or if they would say yes, desperate to see their son interacting with a kid his age like any normal thirteen year old.
Come Monday, I went hunting for Doug, but eventually a teacher told me he was out sick. Tuesday came and went, with no sign of Doug. Had his parents become so angry at him that he was beaten? I had no idea what they were like, or what either of them did for a living. Doug never wanted to talk about his family, so his home life - except for what
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