Spectre-tators

“Just remember to keep it quiet, Kara. Ghosts love—“

“—Ghosts love drama,” Kara said together with her mother. “Yes, I know I know I know. I won’t let this become Barry Horowitz all over again.” The image appeared in her mind’s eye like a quickly developing polaroid: the diner parking lot, Barry kneeling as he wept loudly, five dozen spirits forming a cold ring around them.  

Kara’s mother gave her a firm kiss on the forehead. As she pulled away a look of chagrin stretched her cheeks wide, tugged at her neck muscles until their appearance bordered on grotesque. “Oh, sorry dear,” her mother said, then snatched a wet wipe from her purse and scrubbed a burgundy lipstick splotch from Kara’s skin. Doing her best to amass the full might of her teenage angst, Kara sharpened her gaze and dug the antipathy dripping tip into her mother’s eyes. “Gonna be late,” she said flatly and pulled herself from her mother’s grip.

Kara’s locker door slammed shut, revealing the face of her best friend. Meg lacked Kara’s simple, symmetrical beauty, but did often receive compliments from other girls for her powerful, perfectly sculpted rust colored eyebrows. She opened her mouth to speak, then paused, waiting for a sundress-ed spirit with the high poodle cut of a 50’s housewife to float by. 

“So…is it happening?” Meg asked, doing her best to swallow her excitement. “I mean, that boy has got to gooooo righ—“

“—Meg, shut up.” Kara said quickly, lips tight as possible, then winked. She continued, in the boisterous lilting voice of her age, “Uggggh, today is going to be suuuuuuch a drag. This place is snooze-ville.” Her eyes met those of a passing ghostly construction worker; each smiled politely and nodded. Once the spirit’s attention had shifted to a group of freshman boys not so surreptitiously melting a mechanical pencil with a zippo, she whispered, “yes, Kevin has got to go,” then exhaled, today, the only sounds being the minute taps of her tongue against her alveolar ridge, forming the ’t’ and ‘d’ sounds in the word. Kara leaned in slightly, disguising the motion as an attempt to study a bit of gunk on her locker door. “After school, the big rock in the east woods.” As her lips formed the whispered words, she felt confidence, only slightly wavering, like a flag in lightest breeze, that her friend could be trusted with the information.

The warning bell rang as Meg grinned maniacally, then sniffed, tempering her expression behind a clearly manufactured series of coughs. 

First period was, as she’d advertised to the student and ghost-filled hallway, snooze-ville. Mr. Benson’s baritone voice, droning on about the First Crusade, made her both wish she was dead, and wonder why the back of the room was filled with the dead—over a dozen spirits, scratching lecture notes. Sure they had eternity to do as they pleased, but Mr. Benson’s history class? If only ghosts could speak, that would really spice up the experience, Kara thought. The school could find souls that had been present at different times in history, really liven up the proceedings; perhaps ‘liven up’ wasn’t the best phrasing, but still, the idea was solid, well, would have been, were ghosts capable of emitting sound.

Kara thought only of Kevin as she made her way toward the gym. She pictured the aspects of his face that had once sparked fire in her heart, and well…other places: the double-dimple on his right cheek, sandy bangs that hung to his eyes, the thin frisbee-induced scar that ran along the left side of his jaw. Her mind now saw them as, respectively, a pair of pock marks, an annoyance that tickled her eyelashes when they’d kissed, and a reminder to never actually raise your head when someone yells ‘heads up!’

Before she heard the commotion, Kara felt the cold. Even from the adjoining hallway, the chill of the mass of spirits filling the normally humid gymnasium was unmistakeable. Kara zipped up her white hoodie and tucked her hands into her pockets as she rounded the corner.

“—And you know what else, Jenny? When I told you I was at kickboxing camp for a week last August, I was actually at Liz Ramirez’s family’s cabin on Lake Skookumchuck! And we did it EVERY NIGHT!” Within the thick ring of ghostly bodies—at least a couple hundred, Kara estimated, with more materializing each second—were a few students from last period’s class, still in their school-issued green shorts and tees. Dennis Denham’s buzzed head poked out above the ethereal canopy, bouncing about as he paced and yelled. “So…am I happy about how things have gone?? SURE! I knew from day ONE that I was nothing but a piece of meat to you.”

Poor Jenny? Kara wondered. It was no fun being ringed by souls from the past, berated by your…when does a significant other become your ex? Is it the moment you walk away from them, once one of you has said ‘we’re through’? Or the instant you know in your heart it’s over, even if nothing yet has been said? In any case, Kara had been an eyewitness to enough moments of romantic…selfishness on Jenny’s part that she was sure the girl within the ring was at least equally culpable, if not more perpetrator than victim. 

But still, she thought, c’mon Dennis…ever heard of discretion? 

Bracing herself with a quick but deep breath, Kara walked briskly through the freezing spectres. Inside the ring, Jenny sat with her arms around her knees, head buried. Dennis paused his tirade at her approach, leaving the ffffup, fffup, ffffups, of newly arriving ghosts as the only sounds echoing about the massive space. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we all get it, Dennis,” Kara began. All eyes, living and dead, turned towards her. “Nobody’s blameless here, but that’s no reason to beat a ghost horse, alright?”

“You kidding me, Kara?!” Dennis threw his arms wide and left his grossly thick lips hanging open. The thought of them on Jenny’s body, or even worse, on her own, made Kara shiver more deeply than the crowd of spirits ever could. 

“No, I’m not kidding you, Dennis. Let’s just wrap this up before Jenny feels the need to get deep into a discussion about your teeny tiny pecker, alright?” The mouths of many of the deceased now mimed Dennis’s; a few in Victorian era-garb covered their faces with dainty gloved hands or fluttering fans. Kara reached a hand out to Jenny. “While we’re young?” The red-faced, red-haired girl nodded, and let Kara lead her through the shimmering crowd.

“You bitches!” Dennis yelled at their backs. “I’m not someone you want to mess with!” 

Kara forced her face into a smile slightly stretched by the fear that Dennis was indeed not someone she wanted to mess with.

As they reached the double doors of the women’s locker room, Kara lightly held Jenny’s chin and pulled her face toward hers. “Remember: be silent, be boring, maybe watch a few cooking shows—ghosts hate to see food they’ll never again be able to enjoy—and they should be off to the next amusement in…twelve hours at the most.” Jenny nodded and smiled, exhaling a thank you.

The remainder of the school day passed with little fanfare; a few lost souls trailed behind Kara during her next couple of classes hoping for more excitement, but eventually lost interest. In Mrs. Smett’s statistics class, Kara’s eyes kept drifting toward the back of Jenny’s head in the front row. Jenny and those seated near her had donned their coats, as two-dozen ghosts stood, sat, or lounged nearby, chilling the northeast corner of the drab math classroom. 

Not to put all of the blame on Jenny, but she’d undoubtedly brought it on herself; Dennis was a known spectral magnet, future fodder for some lowest common denominator reality show set in a beach house or mini-mansion. Hopefully Jenny would learn from her mistake. Dennis on the other hand…Kara wondered if he would turn into one of those perverts who got off on spectral spectatorship. The thought repulsed and tensed her, caused the lead to snap from the tip of her mechanical pencil. 

The 7^th period bell buzzed and Kara walked alone to the east hall vending machines, her and Kevin’s unspoken meeting spot. He appeared a few minutes after her, his eyes brightening as they met hers. 

A platoon of ghosts, World War I era, if Kara’s memory from Mr. Benson’s history class was correct, stopped and eyed them. “Do you want to help me study for my stats exam?” Kara asked loudly enough to ensure they’d hear. Two soldiers at the front of the group mouthed something to each other before raising their arms up and ahead in a ‘sally forth’ gesture to their comrades. 

Fingers intertwined, smiling but silent, the pair left the building. They encountered a few souls, past and present, as they made their way through the pleasantly warm but somewhat gusty air of the east lot. Arriving at the creatively named ‘Big Rock’ a hundred yards or so into the wood, Kara pulled out her stats textbook and a pair of notebooks, just in case they were needed for a quick cover. Excitement, or anxiety, or a mix of both, quickened Kara’s heartbeat. All was going to plan. Be kind, be quiet, be quick. From the muck and mire of her mother’s poor advice, one axiom had proven to be true, at least when it came to breakups: honesty is the best policy. Pulling Kevin’s head away from her neck, Kara began, “So…day go alright? Any—“

She stopped at the sound of footsteps crunching the twigs nearby. Dennis’s shaved head appeared from behind a thick redwood, fish lips curling into a grin as he neared. “Hey guys..I just wanted to stop by and offer my condolences on the death of your relationship.” 

“What?!” Kevin pulled his bangs back, leaving his hand resting upon his head. Despite her shock at seeing Dennis, Kara, looking at Kevin’s exposed hairline, wondered how many years he’d have before going as bald as Dennis, though not by choice. “You’re breaking up with me?!”

Kara swallowed. “Well…” More breaking twigs, crunching leaves, and the murmur of approaching voices formed a vice around her throat. Fifty or so students, cronies of Dennis, and their significant others, formed a pack whose susurration caused all nearby wildlife to flee. Then, ffffup, fffup, ffffup, ffffup—the spring air froze as though they’d been transported to a mountain peak. In a matter of moments, the wood was filled with dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of ghosts. Kara snatched her jacket from her bag and pulled it around her, tucking her balled body against Kevin’s; her need for warmth trumped all fear of awkwardness, at least for the moment. Eyes shooting daggers into the now shivering Dennis, Kara considered her next move.

The gangly asshole filled the silence. “You know K-k-kara, I was pretty hurt by what you said this morning. I decided not to dwell on my sorrows and after a little birdy let something interesting slip d-d-during lunch, I spent the rest of the day, l-l-let’s say…sharpening my event planning and logistical skills. V-v-very important in the real world, I hear.”

Kara grimaced. Meg, you dumb, loose-lipped… she fell onto the dirt as the boy who was now somewhere between boyfriend and ex backed away from her and stood suddenly, as though Kara carried a contagion. 

“So…” Dennis continued, “Kevin and Kara, the world’s c-c-cutest couple…no longer, huh? Well, are you going to get on with it? Do it like a band-aid, they say.” He shuddered and guffawed. Kara pulled in her legs, tightened her grip on her jacket, and wondered how many minutes of silence it would take for the crowd, living and dead, to disperse. A tear began its course down her cheek, then froze.