Sparks Reignited

34 | To a Ghost

A deluge of rain hits me. In a matter of seconds, my clothes are soaked and clung to my skin, coldness permeating deep into my skin and spreading across my body. I kneel on the muddy grass. I plant my head down and my palms on the ground to support myself.

When Mom's dying face resurfaces in my mind, I throw up again.

I continue to retch until my stomach's empty, vaguely aware of Blaire crying my name in hysteria. I feel her coming up behind me and patting my back. Once I'm done, I wipe my dirty hands on my jeans and my mouth with the back of a hand. A tremor runs through me and I wrap my arms around myself tightly.

"Riley? Are you alright?" Her hands pry at my hair that's plastered to my cheeks. "Can you stand? God, it's freezing out here!"

I see images in my head, like how Uncle Dave runs through his old film camera by pushing the tiny buttons. Click, click, click. A day at an aquarium with Mom when I was seven. A Saturday movie night with Mom during my early teen years. Dinner with Mom as she made my favorite lasagna bolognese.

And then I see it—my old house. A small, humble two-storey building painted in pale yellow. The front porch had a small flower bed where Mom would grow her herbs and tomatoes.

It's not a hallucination. I know it when I see a memory. It's what my gut feeling is telling me. They are images from my past, my memories, but it's not everything. There are several pieces still missing from the puzzle.

"Riley?" Blaire speaks near my right ear, breaking my train of thoughts. "You're scaring me! Are you okay?"

All I can do is to nod numbly. My legs are weak, but I stand with her help. She guides me back to her car and once we are both safe and sheltered inside; she exhales loudly in relief. Our bodies rack with shivers and our teeth chatter.

Seeing Blaire quivering in her wet clothes, guilt fills my chest.

"Sorry for scaring you, Blaire."

She swings around to meet my gaze angrily. "Seriously, Riley? Do you know how dangerous it is to jump out of a moving car? You–" she berates, but her face and tone soften when she sees my pained expression. "–forget it. What happened?"

My throat feels dry as I attempt to answer her. "Memories," I croak out. "A couple of them."

Realization dawns on her, and her eyes enlarge as big as saucers. "Oh. My. God. They are returning? What should I do? What do you need? Water?"

"Please."

She almost throws herself into the backseat of the car just to rummage through her backpack. Once she finds a bottle of mineral water, she unscrews the cap and hands it to me quickly. I take huge gulps before wiping my mouth with the back of my slick hand.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Are you feeling better? Should we drive to the hospital and see the doctor?"

I shake my head. "Not the hospital," I answer quietly. "There's another place I need to go. Can you drive me there instead?"

"Okay. Where?"

I tell her the address, and her frown deepens. There are clearly several questions written across her face, but she doesn't ask me. Instead, she starts the car running again and we drive the rest of the way in silence. There's a thick tension in the air which neither of us wishes to break. I'm busy drowning deep in my turmoil of thoughts and emotions, whereas Blaire is shooting me furtive glances. She's obviously anxious that I might do something crazy again.

We arrive at our destination—the Lakeshore Cemetery Park. The rain hasn't relented, but it's not stopping me from removing my seatbelt and stepping out into the bad weather. Again. Blaire mirrors my actions and tries to follow me, but a sudden clap of lightning and thunder scares her to death and she retreats into the safety of her car.