First Time Ghost

For the first time since he could remember, the brisk fall air drifting across his face wasn’t what stirred him. This time it was a woodpecker. The Woodpecker. It was the third day in a row the tympanic echo off the hollow tree reverberated throughout the house. Still in bed, he shot up mid-stretch as his memory came back to him. How did he get there? He looked around feeling dizzy, the way you feel when you realize you’re in a dream and then your whole dream world crashes down around you.

Mind still swimming, he laid back down to think. The last thing he remembered was waiting at the intersection one block from his house. Standing on the leaf-strewn corner, he watched his breath condense on his glasses in the October morning air. He could almost taste the corned beef hash waiting for him at the diner on the other side of the road and was looking across at the diner, longingly. That’s when it happened: the child stumbled and he leapt forward, all instinct. Diving, he pushed her away from the oncoming car.

That was it, that’s all he remembered. He sat back up and relaxed a little, smiling while perched on top of his flannel sheets. That was the dream, no wonder he was so disoriented. With a firm grip on reality, he slid off his sheets onto the floor. The floor had begun to show its age, some of the wide wooden planks had begun to warp and there was stain missing in places. Despite its age, the floor was still accommodating and not the least bit crotchety, walking across it felt like walking on air.

Crossing to the cracked window, he stood there for a moment and watched Woody, amateur carpenter, hammer away at his dead birch tree. This tree had not borne leaves in years, but the trees in the yards running up and down the neighborhood had; though they had shrugged theirs off weeks ago in a flurry of brown, gold, and red. The wind was now having its fun, tossing them up in the air in mini cyclones. Luckily, this October 31st morning was surprisingly mild. The temperature was so perfect he didn’t even feel the breeze.

Choosing to forgo slippers, he managed to make his way out of the room without tripping over anything for once. With the dream still on his mind, he glided down the stairs to the main floor. The old staircase mercifully must have been sleeping because it couldn’t be bothered to creak this time. It seemed that as a rule, all suburban New Hampshire neighborhoods consisted of 100 year old bungalows with 150 year old staircases that had a minimum of one creaky step. He made his way through the living room, passing between the white antique coffee table with paint chipping and the well-used mocha fabric couch of which he had to be at least the third owner. Finally in the kitchen, he flipped on the coffee maker before continuing the loop. He ended back at the front door at the bottom of the stairs.

He was about to brave the morning sun on his quest for the paper when he stopped. Frowning, he paused for a second to listen. The coffee maker was suspiciously silent. Turning away from the front door, he drifted back into the kitchen to investigate. The little clock was still on, so it must have power. Shrugging, he flipped the switch again.

Except he didn’t. As soon as his finger would have made contact with the steel toggle switch, it appeared to pass right through it. Frustrated at his lack of hand-eye coordination without his glasses on, he moved deliberately to finally flip the switch. Same thing. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, his finger actually passed through the switch. Icy panic permeated him from the tips of his toes to his head. What was happening? He leapt to his left across the kitchen to grab a wooden spoon from the large coffee mug next to the stove. He stared in abject terror as his hand simply passed through, with the spoon not so much as hinting it was going to move. Frantic now, he reached for the silverware drawer. Nothing. He spun around, desperately sweeping his arm across the counter. The toaster and microwave sat defiant, unmoving.

He needed to show someone what was happening. He sprinted to the front door and stopped, staring at the handle. Exaggerating his motions, he reached deliberately to grab the handle. Closer and closer he reached, until his hand was there. Carefully he closed his hand around the handle…to come up empty! Letting out a frustrated yell, he grabbed viciously at the handle over and over. Same result.

He was stuck in his home now, he had only one option to get out. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he stared at his hand. After what seemed like days, he found his resolve. With effort he lifted his hand, now feeling like a leaden weight hanging from his arm, up to shoulder height. He reached out, fully expecting to find the reassuring solid oak barrier against the world still intact. As his fingertips made contact with the door, instead of resting comfortably on the surface, they passed straight through. It was the most unsettling feeling he had ever experienced. Feeling was the wrong word, because he felt absolutely nothing. Still, his stomach seemed to drop to the floor as he watched his hand glide silently and painlessly through the solid door. He braced himself, worried that at any moment the door would re-solidify, trapping his hand inside. The moment never came, he pushed his hand wrist-deep into the door before finally withdrawing it. He held it up, examining it. It appeared unscathed as he rotated it slowly in the morning sunlight, checking all sides.

Steadfast, if not hopelessly terrified, he walked towards the white door. It sure looked solid. As he was about to make contact with the door, he squeezed his eyes shut and instinctively tensed his body. The contact never came and he opened his eyes to find himself standing on his front porch, staring down the concrete walkway leading to the sidewalk. Relieved, he took a deep breath. Except he couldn’t breathe. Just as the last drops of panic were drying up, a new wave crashed over him. He couldn’t pull in a breath, his chest wouldn’t expand, he was suffocating. He leaned to the side, reaching for the handrail on the porch for support, only to pass right through and fall into the bushes.

The surprise of the fall actually helped calm him somewhat. He realized that although he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t need to breathe. And despite falling about four feet, he did a quick inventory and realized nothing was hurt from the impact. He could see and hear the world around him but felt nothing and smelled nothing. He guessed that without being able to breathe, he wouldn’t be able to smell. He wondered if he could taste? Looking around, he licked the first thing his saw. The first thing he saw, unfortunately, was the bush he landed in. Leaning forward, he stuck out his tongue only to have it pass through the dark green leaves.

Now curiosity had overwhelmed his sense of dread and panic. He stood up, walking straight through the bushes and looked around. To his right, a woman was walking towards him on the sidewalk with a small 5-year-old, dressed as a witch, in tow. He stepped out onto the sidewalk, about ten feet in front of her, and waved. When she didn’t give any response, he began waving more vigorously. Eventually he looked like a cartoon character who, finding himself having suddenly run off a cliff, was desperately flapping to stay aloft. Still, no reaction from the woman or the child with her. Clearly either she couldn’t see him or chose to ignore the psychotic man flapping his arms on the sidewalk. Could she hear him?

“Excuse me, ma’am…” he began, when she was only three feet away. She didn’t break stride nor even glance in his direction. Suddenly she was upon him and he swung his arms out in front of him in protest. She continued walking without a moment’s hesitation and passed directly though him. By far that now took the cake for most unsettling sensation he had ever experienced, even though he didn’t actually feel anything. He spun around to watch her and almost fell backwards. She was just standing there, staring right at him. Could she see him now?

“What is it, mommy?” the little girl was looking up at the woman, tugging on the sleeve of her black sweater.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” the woman was staring intensely at him, her eyes squinting slightly. She shuddered. “I just got a chill run down my back and have some goosebumps. Someone must’ve walked on my grave.” She started to turn back around before suddenly turning back to face him, squinting even more.

“What now, mommy?” the girl was frightened, now she was staring straight at the man.

“Do you see that, honey?”

“See what?”

“The air over the sidewalk looks all wavy, kinda like the way it looks on a hot day.” Now it was the girl’s turn to squint. She turned her head to the side in concentration, not even noticing the hat topple off of her head onto the ground.

“I think so. What is it?”

“I don’t know, I don’t like it. Let’s get out of here.” The woman grabbed her daughter by the hand and quickly turned her around and they hurried off, leaving the abandoned hat to blow around on the sidewalk. Still perturbed by the encounter, and not knowing what else to do, he began walking down the sidewalk. The sun was high in the October sky now, though it was not doing much to cut the cold. The man passed more and more people dressed up as he approached downtown. At first he moved out of the way out of habit. He quickly gave that up, eventually going out of his way to walk through people. It bothered him much less now and he loved watching the the bewildered faces on all of the adults and children after he passed through them. Although he still didn’t understand it, he was at least beginning to embrace his new situation.

It wasn’t long before he reached Main Street. It was actually nice not having to move out of everyone’s way on the crowded sidewalk. There were a lot of weird looks exchanged between people as he moved effortlessly through them. Not needing to worry about getting out of everyone’s way, he was able to stare into the shops as he walked. He was taking in all of the Halloween decorations when something caused him to stop suddenly in his tracks. Sitting in the bottom corner of a cobweb-covered window was today’s newspaper with a full page headline on the cover: “Local Hero Rescues Child, Perishes In Process”. He stopped to read, his mouth hanging open wider and wider as he continued:

Yesterday, a local man gave his life to save a child. The hero, whose identity is still unknown, was waiting for a light to change at the corner of 9th Street and Pine Ave, across the street from the diner. The child, who will remain anonymous, pulled away from her mother and stepped into oncoming traffic. The hero selflessly dove into traffic to push her back to the sidewalk. He was then struck by a car which was unable to avoid him. The man, tragically, died at the scene…

The story continued but he could not continue reading. He sat down in shock, letting people walk through him as he sat there. He was dead? He understood the basic premise but was far from actually comprehending. What did that make him? Was he…the idea popped into this head, unbidden and unwanted. Was he a ghost? As crazy as it sounded, it was the only thing that sense to him.

Several hours passed and several dozen people passed through him before he finally got to his feet. It was dark now and the only people walking through town were costumed. Several hours later he still didn’t understand it any better. This was his “life” now, he could either wallow in self-pity or embrace it for…how long? How long do ghosts roam the earth? He didn’t know anything about ghosts and, until today, didn’t even believe they were real.

He began wandering back in the direction of his house, now intentionally passing through everyone he saw. He was self-reliant and knew he would eventually get used to this life. He had so much to learn and, maybe, even other ghosts to find. There were some plus sides to being a ghost, he just had to figure them out. In the meantime, he was enjoying watching the unease and fear in the eyes of everyone he passed through. It was Halloween, after all, and he was probably the only ghost in town. He grinned, if ever there was a night for him to celebrate that, tonight was the night. Time to have some fun.