Page 60 of Ghostly
“We’ll do everything we can, and we’ll do it properly.” The determination in Gabriel’s voice left no room to argue.
Is that how he was in his job? His real job, not the life he pretended to have here. This was only a game, a passing project to put on his doubtlessly long list of achievements. He wouldn’t live in this house to make use of the replanted garden and the renovated facade.
She appreciated his effort, and being busy—even if busy arguing—meant she didn’t have to think of the day when she might come back to life, but she’d be alone, starting anew in a world that never created a place for her. Being alive (again) was just the beginning. Next, she’d have to survive and deal with her old monsters.
In other attempts to distract herself—mostly while Gabriel was away—she continued to practice her control over objects. Two weeks in, she managed to control a pen skillfully enough to write her name on a piece of paper. Once she got over the horrible deterioration of her penmanship, she proudly stared at her achievement. Perhaps she couldn’t do much else, but she’d left a mark on this paper.
Outside, steps rushed to the front door.
“Gabriel! Look at this!” she called.
“… can leave the shoes on. Right in here.”
She frowned. That was Gabriel, but what was he talking about?
Then, another voice—male, unfamiliar. “Thanks, man. Ooh, cozy. Pretty sweet crib you’ve got here.”
A young man, not more than twenty, entered the living room. Someone from town? A worker Gabriel had hired for the facade, or the kitchen or garden renovation? But wouldn’t he tell her about that?
He looked a bit too hip to be a worker, too, with a baggy puffer jacket in a geometric black, purple, and blue pattern, and huge, neon-blue headphones hanging around his neck. He had light brown skin and close-cut black hair, with a pattern of lines shaved in at the temples.
Gabriel followed him into the living room. His eyes met Ida’s for a second, but he only gave a brief nod and redirected his attention to the man. “Take a seat. What can I get you? Soda? Coffee?”
“Soda’ll be just fine.”
Hmm. Not Gabriel’s relation, then.
The man spread his legs wide, taking most of the sofa; Gabriel brought a chair from the dining room for himself. “So, Perry,” he began after the drinks were distributed.
Perry. Good. We have a name.
“Who is he?” Ida asked.
Gabriel flashed her a glance. What was he trying to say? To go along with it?
“Gotta say, I never knew much about my old folks,” Perry said. “You found any of those cool old collector’s items in the attic? Maybe an Atari?”
“Possibly. There are a lot of things to sort through.”
“Cool. Can we go check it out?”
“Check out what? Gabriel!” Ida jumped to get his attention. “We don’t have an attic!”
Gabriel gave her a pointed look.
Perry twisted on the couch. “Whatcha looking at, man?”
His gaze passed straight through Ida. She knew he couldn’t see or hear her, and yet, a small spark of hope still flew up… and died, as Perry turned back.
“Nothing,” Gabriel said, halting in the middle of the word. He twitched and gave Perry his typical charming smile.
Perry looked back at Ida—or her general vicinity—then at Gabriel, and slowly shuffled away from him. “You know what, man? I’m kinda hungry, and I saw this diner in town, so maybe I’ll just—”
“No!” Gabriel overturned the chair as he shot up. “I mean, don’t leave yet.”
“What is going on?” Ida demanded.
“Dude...” Perry stood as well, extending a defensive hand toward Gabriel.
