Page 21 of A Ballad of Phantoms and Hope
“It’s a beautiful gravestone. Is this where the missing patients were found too?” I ask and he nods. That story, along with the fire, became all the state’s folk could talk about for months. People missing for a decade, their bones found here of all places. It was awful to read in the paper and it feels just as sickening to stand where they once stood.
“All except one. I had to stake out here a few nights but I finally saw Monica, the sole survivor, visiting her friends. I’m glad at least she got away, but she still acts as though she’s being hunted down. Always watchful, and I can’t say I blame her,” he mumbles as if he knows her personally. Who knows, maybe he does, maybe he’s studied many people who’ve come and gone from this place in his hours of boredom.
“Are the other missing patients’ phantoms still here? In purgatory, I mean?” I sit on the bench facing the stone pillar and Lanston takes a seat beside me. His scent of pages and coffee mixes sweetly with the flowers.
“No, I think they found their way to the after long ago, but I’m not sure. Some of our fellow phantoms here think they’ve heard strange things in the music room at night. But I believe that they’ve passed, either before or after their murders were solved. I’m glad I haven’t seen them here though. It gives me hope. That maybe if they can find peace after an unsolved, decade-old murder, then maybe we have a chance too, you know?” His hazel eyes are heavy with weariness. He mustn’t have slept at all last night.
I smile. “Good. I’m happy that they moved on. Some souls aren’t meant to dwell here.” Though I’m not so sure I believe they’ve really all passed on. The rumors might be worth looking into.
He tilts his head toward me and there’s so much sadness in his eyes it hurts. I can tell he’s a ghost that isn’t meant to dwell. He wants to leave and be at peace, while I wish to stay. We’ll never be in existence together for long. It isn’t written in the stars.
The first phantom I enjoy being around and he’s desperate to leave.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about Those Who Whisper…would they follow you here? Are you safe indoors?” Lanston doesn’t flat out ask if I’m safe to bring here, because he’s kind, but his voice is heavy with it whether he knows it or not.
I grip the black lace of my dress loosely over my knees and keep my eyes lowered. “You’re worried about the others.”
He doesn’t respond for a moment. “Is that why you stay by yourself? It would make sense that that’s why you prefer to be alone. You’re keeping everyone else away to keep them safe, aren’t you?”
I dip my head, not willing to outright admit it. “I wouldn’t bring trouble here. You don’t need to worry.” They don’t come around large groups of phantoms. It’s usually only when I’m alone and at night when the world sleeps.
Lanston slides his hand over mine and the warmth makes my chest feel tight. “I’m not worried about them, Ophelia. I’m worried about you.” His voice is raspy and draws my eyes to his. “When you spend most of your time alone you learn to observe others and see past the mask they wear. You were a bit harder to pin, but I knew right away that you were keeping people away on purpose. Aren’t you lonely? Let me help.”
I stare at him, surprised.
His eyes narrow with thought and something else I can’t quite read.
“What’s chasing you, Ophelia?”
“I–I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “Shortly after I died they appeared, and I’ve been running from the whispering darkness ever since.”
The only place they can’t seem to get me is in the old opera house. I credit the plants that I’ve collected with being what keeps the darkness out. A silly thing, really, but who makes the rules when you're dead? Whatever works, works. Nothing makes sense on the other side. Not the way we can move about the living and still indulge in everyday life. And certainly not in the way we still have thoughts and feelings.
“You said no one wakes up the same after they get touched. Do you know why?”
I look at him and shake my head. “I haven’t asked… because they look at me differently when they wake up and I just… I leave. But it’s what the darkness tells me that keeps me from inquiring. They whisper terrible things to me, and I’d rather not find out.” He nods and takes a deep breath.
“Well, maybe you’ll find some answers when you speak with Jericho.” Lanston looks back over the field with a soft smile on his lips.
I can’t bring myself to tell him that I don’t plan on staying long.
The whispers are never far behind and although I doubt they’d come here, I don’t want to risk it. I want to enjoy today for what it is.
“Alright, now how about I show you the greenhouse?” Lanston cheers up the mood with his broad, handsome smile.
I return it. “Lead the way.”
The greenhouse is exactly what I wish my opera house could be. Vibrant plants fill the space entirely. Rows and rows all theway to the back. Hanging baskets with long draped flowers keep the roof hidden and the floor is wet from a recent watering.
“Oh my God, I love it here!”
Lanston chuckles. “I knew you would.”
I walk up and down a few rows, gliding my fingers across the tops of leaves and succulents before turning and grinning widely at him. He stands at the entrance with a content grin glued to his face. Watching me as if I’m a lost memory.
My smile fades as I realize I’ve been looking at him for too long.I can’t get attached.I chide myself. Forcing my eyes to the flowers at the next table, I freeze.
Chrysanthemums.
