My Brother the Ghost

When Samantha came down the stairs that morning, she could sense the air was colder than usual. The smooth wood of the stairs felt icy under her bare feet, and the banister under her hand felt frozen. She exhaled and expected to see her breath, but didn't. When she turned the corner to enter the kitchen she saw him. A white specter, a transparent man who appeared to be in his mid-30s sitting at her kitchen table. Well not really sitting, but floating in the shape of a person sitting, his back a swirling mist that went through the chair. 

She gasped slightly, "Ricky." 

The ghost looked up at her and smiled slightly, "Hey Sammer Wammer."

Her hands jumped to cover her nose and mouth as she let out a strangled sob. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked upon the figure of her brother.

Ricky stood and quickly floated to where she stood, reaching his ghostly hands out.

"Now don't get weepy on me. Shhhh," he attempted to grab her hands but his floated through hers and what was left was almost like a mist. 

Samantha stared wide-eyed as tears fell freely down her cheeks, "I haven't seen you in so long. I thought you might never come back."

"I told you last time that I can't come back all that often. I don't even necessarily get to control it, it just...happens. You can't expect it. I wanted to check on everyone. Let's walk." 

Samantha choked out a laugh.

"Okay fine, you will walk and I will...hover." He grinned.

Once outside, Samantha had to watch for other walkers. She would have to shut it when other people walked by, otherwise, they might think she was out of her mind. Although, people seemed to talk into earbuds a lot nowadays didn't they? Maybe she was out of her mind anyway.

"How is dad?" Ricky asked, floating next to her and bobbing ever so slightly up and down. 

His dark hair floated like a distorted shadow above his swarthy ghost face. His clothing was a bit harder to discern, maybe a polo shirt? Yes, that would make sense for her brother. Khaki pants? Did he choose this outfit as a ghost?  

"He's okay I guess. He finally stopped drinking...I think. That's what he told me on the phone a while back anyway. Sometimes I still suspect. But I try not to care too much."

Her brother nodded, his mouth pulled inward in a look of disdain. "I see."

"He does go golfing a lot more now. Spends a lot of time with Aunt Cheryl, I guess because they are both alone and retired now?" Samantha grimaced. "He keeps trying to get me to see her."

"You don't see any of our family now?" Ricky asked.

"I see dad. That's it. Even that is tough sometimes. I think he has autism or something." 

Ricky snorted.

"I'm serious! There are times when he invites me out to see him, but then it's like he can't look me in the eyes and he's like a child, fidgeting and looking everywhere but at me, won't talk, won't really respond to what I say."

"He's neurotic, not autistic."

"Whatever it is, it's annoying."

"Is he still with Karen?"

"Yes. They still don't live together. She is still co-dependent with her drug-addict son, and their plans to move to Florida have of course come to nothing. But it's at least better than him being with Mom I guess. At least they go on trips together."

"How is mom?"

"I have no idea. Haven't spoken to her in years and the last text I got from her said, 'I'm glad to hear you are doing well - financially at least.'" 

Ricky chuckled at that. "Still her same old self then." 

"Your death didn't change her one bit. That's really why I stopped talking to her. You would think something like the death of a child would make you a bit better as a person, but she is just as vapid and mentally ill as ever. Maybe more so." 

Ricky looked pained. 

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you have Tami at least?"

"No." 

"I see." 

"I know you told me you hoped we would become closer as siblings, especially since we would only have each other now that you're gone. But it just hasn't worked out that way. I wish you were still here. I wish it were you here instead of her."

"Don't say that." Ricky stopped floating abruptly and glared at her. "Don't say something like that." 

Samantha's eyes filled with tears again. "It's true." 

Ricky rolled his eyes at her, "Stop crying." 

They continued on, leaves crunching under Samantha's feet. Someone came along the sidewalk with her fluffy white dog on a leash. Samantha sucked in her lips and gave a tight smiled nod at the person before walking on. 

"I saw that Christy got married." Her brother said after a moment. 

"You did?!" Samantha could feel herself tearing up again and fought to keep the tears down. "It was really difficult. For everyone. Even her. She was so conflicted about it."

"I knew she would move on. I knew it even before I died. She should move on. Her life shouldn't end at 36 just because mine did." 

"But still...it felt like a real end. To everything." 

Ricky gave a tight-lipped smile. 

"I've also seen how you've been doing. You graduated just like we planned. You have managed your career better than I even could have imagined. I am so proud of you. Stop crying."

Samantha was silently sobbing freely now, tears like rivers down her cheeks. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and wiped at her eyes. People walked by and glanced her way, mildly concerned. 

"Hey, stoppit," Ricky lifted his hand to slap the side of her face and his hand moved through her head like a vapor. But the effect was duly noted. It was something he used to do when they were young, when she was getting emotional. 

Samantha took a deep breath. 

"Sometimes it feels like my life is in complete shambles. Yes, I did everything we planned. I made it through college after you died, I got my degree. I lived in a new city. I met my husband,"

"Who is a good choice by the way." Ricky interjected.

"but my life is still wrecked. I have mystery pains every single day,"

"That's called getting older. Lucky you."

"I have various physical ailments ever since you died,"

"That's called being a hypochondriac, which I specifically asked you not to become when I was dying." 

"I am not a hypochondriac! My ailments are real!"

"That is exactly what a hypochondriac would say."

Samantha sighed and looked over at her brother’s ghost.

“I love you, and I miss you. I wish you could just come back.”

“I know. I love you and miss you too Sammer.”