Page 44 of The Spirit Key
“And you’re sure I said Tim?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“That’s what I heard too. You were in your room, staring at the window and muttering something about you and Tim.” Ryan sat back and stared at me. “I didn’t see anyone and thought…. Well, okay, I thought you were a freak.”
Like I hadn’t heard that before. “You probably weren’t wrong.”
Ryan jerked up. “No!” Then he leaned forward, arms on his knees, his head in his hands. “No. You weren’t a freak. I just didn’t understand, that’s all.”
“Why are you telling us this now?”
I glanced over at Tim, who nodded. So I told Mom and Ryan the story of what I’d seen, leaving out the part about the ghost inhabiting Tim’s body, and that I wanted to help them.
“You were always such a sweetheart. You hated seeing anyone hurting. Even after everything you went through, no matter what happened, you always stepped up because you wanted to help others.”
Warmth flooded me. “Thank you.”
Tim rose off the couch. “This is weird, even by my standards. How was I supposed to help you help people?”
I thought for a moment. “You did, though.” I turned to Mom and Ryan. “I was in the hospital earlier in the week. Tim has a friend, Rachel. Her son died a few years ago, and they were blaming themselves. Tim and I went to where he died to see if he was, you know, still there. I found him sitting on the steps to their home, crying. He was so sad, even Tim could feel it. After I touched him, I found out he died of an accidental overdose. He didn’t mean to do it. We got his parents there, and I touched him and them, and they could see and talk to Burton. When he faded away, they felt the weight they’d been dragging around all these years lifted from them. Without you, I couldn’t have done it.” We were all quiet for a few minutes, and then I put my hand on Tim’s arm. “Without you, I can’t do it.”
He grinned, sat back down, and leaned into me. “Okay, let’s assume that you were talking to a ghost, then. Why wouldn’t you remember it?”
I shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe the drugs affected my memory?”
A frown marred Tim’s face. “You weren’t taking them when you were a kid, so I doubt they affected those specific memories.”
“Maybe he was just too young to understand.” Mom leaned in. “What if you didn’t realize they were ghosts? I mean, when you asked me if your friend Jeff could come with us for cookies, did you think he was a ghost, or did you believe he was real?”
That one didn’t require a lot of thought. “I believed he was real. When he disappeared, I didn’t understand it but never imagined he wasn’t as real as I was. I mean, he played toys with me.”
“So, maybe in your mind, the other ghosts you saw were just as real?”
That idea had merit. “Can you remember anything about what I said?”
Ryan bit his lip. “A couple times I heard you mention a lock, and you were excited when you did.”
“Please, Ryan, you have to tell me exactly what you heard.”
“Dude, it was, like, fourteen years ago. God, let me think.” He huffed out a breath. “You were playing in your room, and I was going downstairs to get something. I heard you talking. When I peeked in your door, you were there, staring at nothing. You giggled, and then you said, ‘What kind of lock?’ Then you cocked your head and I heard you mutter Tim’s name.”
Holy shit. “Ry, please. Anything else?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, that’s all I can think of.”
“Mom?” I was desperate. If I was talking to a ghost and mentioning Tim, it might be important.
“Oh! You were talking and said Tim wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. You said he’d always protect you, because he was your best friend.”
I twisted in my seat. “I said Tim? Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes. You were very adamant about it. I’d never seen such determination in your face before.”
“If I talked about a lock, did it have a key? Or was it—”
“A key!” Ryan leaped up, gesturing wildly. “You were the key! I remember now. Tim was a lock, and you were supposed to be the key. I thought it was some weird game you made up, but you said it once after that too. You were in the back, sitting beneath the big tree. I snuck up, thinking about scaring you, and you were nodding and saying, ‘Tim is my key, and I’m his lock, right?’ It freaked me out so much, I turned around and went back in. I told Mom, and she said you had just been playing, but I never believed that.”
I strained, trying to reconnect with those memories. Something flitted through my mind. A snippet of conversation where someone told me how important Tim and I were. How we had to work together or problems would follow. It was a lady, and she was beautiful. She knelt next to me and held my hand and we talked about… about….
