Broken (4 page)

Chris walked closer to me than usual, his arm pressing against
mine. I had barely drunk anything, but my head felt like it was
swimming. Thank goodness for the rain. It wasn’t a light
drizzle any longer.

I raised my face to the night sky and let its cool touch give me
a cold reality check.

Taking him back to my place was not a good idea. I’d just
end up another broken heart in a long list of them. I was pretty
sure there was even a Chris Silver recovery group in town.

I let him walk me home. When we got to the door of my apartment, I took out the keys,
paused and faced him.

He didn’t press forward, and his face didn’t seem to
show any sign of what he was thinking. But that glowing look was
there. He took a step closer, taking my hands in his. They were so
warm.

He kissed me on the forehead.

“Call me tomorrow,” he whispered.

My breath caught for a second, but I recovered my poise.

“Sure.”

He turned and walked down the hall towards the elevators. I
actually stood there, watching him go. I rolled my eyes at my own
foolishness.

What was I doing?

When I stopped being such a girl and picked my dignity off the
floor, I closed the door.

Fortunately, little green dude wasn’t there.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Since I’d slept most of the day, I wasn’t overly
tired. I now had three choices because I couldn’t sit here
pining for Chris — comb through the papers that Joan had left
me, examine the extra earring and see if I could dig up a number
for Aunt Marigold, or take a shower.

I opted for the shower — piping hot.

I stood in the water for a good ten minutes, just letting the
heat soak in before I did anything. I tried not to think, but that
wasn’t so easily accomplished.

I had just learned I was adopted; my mother had revealed to me
the purpose of my being in her family; my brother didn’t
believe any of it was true; a hot friend of mine was giving me
vibes I shouldn’t be getting; I’d found another earring
to match something I’d received years ago; and the little
green man may not have been a figment of my imagination after
all.

Thinking was all I did in there.

When I finally managed to extract myself from the shower, I
decided that the next order of business was to review those journal
entries. It was a little odd I should have had the same
hallucinations that my grandfather did. Or maybe it wasn’t
hallucinations after all, which was the most confusing part
of this. And if that was true, then what about this
curse
, as Chris
called it? That part niggled at the back of my head, and sent a
shiver wriggling down my spine.

I threw myself on the futon. The frame moaned again.

I grabbed the leather-bound package and started with that first
page once more.

Today, the little green man appeared again. I haven’t seen
him in months.

That was it.

The next page was similar.

The green man intrigues me. I try to talk to him. He
doesn’t say anything. He just looks at me. If I try to touch
him, he disappears. I wish I knew what he was.

I flipped through a few more and stopped.

Aunt Marigold was here today. She gave me a green cufflink for
my birthday.

I had to re-read that one again.

Aunt Marigold? A green cufflink?

Panic was starting to settle in. My hands shook.

I took a moment to think. Aunt Marigold wasn’t my real aunt, I knew that. From what I could recall my father had been an only child. So, I had always assumed she was my father’s aunt, but it looked like she might have been my grandfather’s aunt?

How old
was
Aunt Marigold?

I put the pages down to fetch the earrings.

Sure enough it wasn’t a figment of my imagination. There
were two there. And they were identical.

I wondered if Aunt Marigold had given me more than one, but I
knew that couldn’t have been the case. The summer she gave it
to me was one I’d never forget. There had only been one
earring. I was sure of it.

I walked back into the living room. Despite my better judgment,
I cast a glance at the ficus. I almost cried out.

The little man was standing there, waving.

My first instinct was to run for the kitchen and grab the meds,
along with thoughts of tossing that goddamned plant off the
balcony.

Since there were no meds, a calmer head was forced to prevail. I
took a deep breath.

Maybe I needed to take a different approach. Since the little, green
man was now leaving me gifts, I thought perhaps I should engage
him.

I took the earrings with me and sat down on the floor next to
the ficus. Chris’s scent was still here. I actually
inhaled.

The little man inched back, hiding behind the plant. His
wave got more diminutive.

I sat there, looking at him for a while before I finally
gathered up enough insanity to try speaking to him.

“Hello,” I said.

He took a tiny step forward, but said nothing.

This was crazy. I was talking to my hallucination. Dr. White was
going to double my meds after this.

I held out the earrings to him.

“Do you want them?” I asked.

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was talking to him.
I had to be losing my mind.

He shook his head.

Well, at least he understood me.

He motioned for me to put them up to my own ears. I did like he
suggested and he clapped those huge mitts of his.

Then he made a motion like I should hook them into the holes in
my ears.

I groaned as I got up and took them to the mirror. Was I really
going to do this?

I hooked one of them in and looked at my reflection. They really
were pretty. The silver and emerald actually brought out the green
in my hazel eyes. I remembered when my aunt had given the single
earring to me. It had been my sixteenth birthday, while I was
spending the summer with her in England. I had met a boy then, who
was living with Aunt Marigold. A boy I had tried to forget.

I was never into jewelry or girly things, but this earring I had
loved. I think it had more to do with the fact it was truly the
first valuable gift I had ever received. Aunt Marigold had given it
to me in private. Joan never knew I had it

Strangely, I don’t think I had ever put it on. Of course,
with only one, what was I supposed to do with it?

I hooked the second earring in.

Then everything went black.

Chapter 5

I woke in the back seat of a car, driving through the city. It
was a new car, from the smell of it, but it wasn’t modern. It
had a tape deck below the radio.

The driver seemed young, but I couldn’t make out his face
completely from where I was seated. He wore a dark suit that
matched his hair.

I sat quietly at first, wondering if I should speak. I wanted to
get a closer look, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to know I
was awake. I leaned a little, hoping not to make a sound. I
didn’t. Then I noticed my hands. I wasn’t solid. I was
giving off a faint golden glow.

Oh my god, am I dead?

I leaned over to look in the rear view mirror. My face and hair
also had that golden, translucent glow. The earrings were still
hanging from my ears.

What the hell was going on?

The man pulled into a driveway and parked the car. It was the
house I’d grown up in. It wasn’t the same as I
remembered. The windows were old and needed replacing. There was
also a small tree in the front where I remembered a much larger
oak. The roof was in pretty bad need of repair.

The man got out of the car. As he closed the door, I got a look
at his face. I knew from the photos which had littered the mantle
as a child that the man was my father. Or, Geoff’s father,
anyway.

I reached to open the car door, but my hand went through the
metal. I gasped. I had to be a ghost.

How the hell did I die?

I decided to exit the car then. It seemed easy enough to pass
through the door. Then I followed James to the house. He
didn’t even have to grab his keys. The door swung open and a
younger version of Joan flung herself on him. The joy on her face
I’d not seen in a long time.

“I have wonderful news!” she exclaimed.

James’s face lit up. “Don’t tell me,” he
said. “Katherine said her first word! I knew she was a bright
girl!”

Joan frowned. “That’s ridiculous. She’s only
nine months old. No, I have better news! I’m pregnant!”
She was almost bouncing on the spot and clapping her hands.

The eyes on James’s face widened. “What? I thought it
was impossible for you to get pregnant.”

Joan looked a little white. “I thought that too, but
it’s true. The doctor confirmed it this morning! I’m
pregnant!”

James had that deer in the headlights look. He stuttered. “T-t-t-that’s wonderful!”
He then hugged his wife again and kissed her hard on the lips. He
escorted her inside, closing the door, but not before I slipped in
behind him. Ghost or not, I would rather use the door the
old-fashioned way.

James continued to kiss his wife, and I began to get a little
worried I’d be watching them take it to the next step.
I’d go back through the door if that happened. He pulled
back and Joan caught her breath.

“Where’s my little girl?” he asked.
“Does she know yet?”

“She’s a baby, James. She won’t know
anything.” Joan pointed down the hall. “She’s in
her crib.”

James left his briefcase at the door and hurried through the
house. I followed.

The walls were a different color than what I remembered, and the
furniture was much simpler.

James darted through the hall and rounded the corner into my old
room.

“Where’s my little Katy girl?” he called.

There was a cooing sound. That had to be me.

I rushed after him, curious to see what nine-month-old me looked
like.

The man I knew to be my father scooped me up from the crib and
twirled me around. “How’s my little Katy girl?”
he said.

The blob in his hands didn’t answer. She giggled and
smiled and grabbed his face.

“Guess who’s going to have a little brother or
sister?” he said, making sounds that only a baby can
induce.

Joan entered the room while James danced with the little version
of me in his arms. He offered me to her, but the doorbell rang. She
left the room to get it.

James continued dancing around the room, kissing my nine-month-old head and cheeks.

I remembered that of my mother, she never touched me unless she
needed to. She had never fawned over me like she had Geoffrey.

Tears slid down my cheeks as I realized someone had loved me
after all. I didn’t think a ghost could cry. I wiped my
tears.

I watched and admired my father as he played with me before
putting me back into my pen. Then he flipped the switch on the
Winnie-the-Pooh mobile over my crib.

The characters remained lifeless and still.

“That’s funny,” he said. “That was
working this morning.”

He looked behind the crib.

“There it is. It’s unplugged.” He pinched my
little cheeks, then knelt down to plug it in.

I waited for it to turn on, but nothing happened.

I looked down at my father. His one hand was still holding the
plug. It was inserted into the wall yet the mobile was lifeless.
Then it occurred to me what was happening. There was only the
slightest hint of a twitch to him and something smelled like it was
burning.

Oh my god!

I wanted nothing more than to help him. At the same time, I
couldn’t watch. Where was Joan? I ran through the house
searching for her, hoping there was some way I could get her
attention. I looked everywhere and found her, finally, at the front
door. There was a rather pushy golden-haired saleswoman peddling
beauty products at the door. I tried to find a way to let Joan know
what was happening. I tried to grab her, but my hands slipped
through her. I tried to knock things over, but the effect was the
same.

Then I noticed the golden-haired woman. She was looking right at
me. There was a smile in her eyes, like she knew what was
happening. I gasped.

I sailed back to the room where my father was. The little
version of me was now screaming. James had collapsed to the floor,
his hand still on the plug.

Joan had told me once that my father had died of a weak heart.
She’d never mentioned he’d been electrocuted.

I put my hands to my face, crying, not knowing what to do. I
couldn’t bear to watch this any longer.

My hand brushed an earring and a thought struck me. I
immediately unhooked them.

Everything went black once more.