STALKER

Chapter 40 - 4th July day 53

I slept in late, there was no rush to do anything or go anywhere. I only got out of bed because I desperately needed a pee, otherwise, I would have remained under the covers for the whole day. I shuffled out of my room and spotted Granddad waiting for me in the doorway of the kitchen. We parted on bad terms, it took me a moment to decide if I still had the shits with him or not. I stopped and stared. I told myself I was looking at a ghost and the thought didn't register a single normal human response, shock, fear, disbelief, or the urge to run screaming out of the house. Instead, I greeted him with a tired nod and wave. "Give me a minute. We need to talk." and went off to the loo.

It has been 7 weeks and 4 days since John arrived. I know all sorts of facts about him and his life, like when he was born, got married, all the normal stuff. I know about his secrets too but I realised after our last conversation I don't understand him. He backed up and went to stand on the other side of the room as I went into the kitchen. He was making a show of respecting my personal space until he didn't again. I took my time making a pot of coffee. I poured myself a mug and lit up. A pleasant buzz ran through my body, letting me know it has been too long since my last hit of nicotine and caffeine. I finally turned and looked at him, his smoky silhouette kept breaking up and reforming.

"This will be the last time we talk if you don't behave and control that temper of yours." He nodded in a fashion. I started walking back to my room with him in tow at a distance.

I sat at the table, nervous as hell. These little chats of ours are always intense, in one way or another.

"Hit me again and I'll make sure you go back where you came from," I said firmly. I'd take Weirdo's offer of help. John nodded again reluctantly. At the time I'd been so shocked at being struck I'd frozen. We'd just shifted to our neutral place so that we could talk. I was feeling awkward at being caught in an embarrassing situation and tried to make light of it by making a stupid joke about Weirdo being a good kisser. It had backfired, Granddad gave me a backhander across the cheek, hard enough to send me into the wall and break our connection instantly. He evaporated before I could react.  I wasn't going to let the subject of his dislike for Weirdo drop, but it had to be another time.

I put down my mug and lit a new cigarette off the old one and reached out my right hand. It was shaking and I had to make an effort to steady it. We needed to finish our conversation. I didn't want any more of his cryptic gibberish, afterlife rules. Or badmouthing Weirdo for that matter, the idea I'm taking his side makes me wonder about my sanity.

John moved forward and his wispy fingers reached out for mine. I froze the second our fingertips met, my solid ones and his vaporous tendrils. A tingling sensation moved up my hand as his slipped into it and our connection was complete. All sound and colour faded around us. The room quickly fell into darkness except for the patch of light around us, a sort of neutral zone between his world and mine. John took shape and once again he was standing in front of me, young and handsome. He at least had the decency to look sheepish.

"I want to apologise for the other day." John said the moment he took formed. His deep voice, as always, was a pleasurable rumble.   I don't think he was but I didn't feel like arguing the minute we met.  His dislike for Weirdo made no sense, except if he really was a homophobic gay ghost. He stood back, he was looking into the darkness, the floor, anywhere except at me.  He looked as guilty as hell.  Granddad was wearing the black suit I had hanging in the corner. It looked better on him than on me. He was a little taller and broader across the shoulders and it fit him like a glove. It looked brand new, a perk of the afterlife I assume, everything looked its best. It was unsettling to see that we were both wearing his signet ring and watch, the shape of our hands identical.

"Just keep your word and we'll be fine." I gestured for him to sit down.

It always fascinated me how much alike we are, and as he took a seat across the small table I felt that same bond between us kick in. I couldn't help but like him. When people say that our ancestors are a part of our very DNA they are not exaggerating.  He is so much a part of me it's not funny. Luckily one thing I didn't inherit, and I was grateful for, was his temper.

"You know I'm going to ask the same questions...right?" He lifted his eyes from the table and I saw them narrow. He still clung tightly to his secrets. "So...from what I gather from what you said, you can't tell me anything directly. It's some cosmic afterlife rule. You can, however, share your memories. Is that right?" I was trying my best not to instigate another outburst. He nodded.

I wasn't sure where to start. I had a lot of questions but it came down to a couple of things. I thought considering his arrival turned my life upside down, I deserved answers. He'd told me it was all in the journals but I knew that he kept the worst of it to himself.

"In that case....and there's no need to get testy." I raised my hand preparing both him and me for the next bit. "...you already know I want to understand why..." there was an extremely uncomfortable pause. We both knew what I was going to say. I saw his eyes narrow again and his lips tighten. "...you killed Martin. I can take a calculated guess but I want to hear it from you."

"OK." He nodded again.

"You understand the thought of my grandfather executing a 15-year-old boy is horrifying. I just can't get my head around it. It's out of character, you're not that sort of person." His hands turned into fists on the table. I could see John reign himself in. "I've read your journals, letters, looked through the books you liked to read...I've watched you, I've even been inside your head, and you're not the sort of person.....I don't understand."

I lit a cigarette, I realised I was sweating, not sure why I wanted to take this further. I offered John a cigarette and to my surprise, he took one and pulled out a box of matches from is pocket and lit it. He did the hand cupping the cigarette thing that always looked cool in the movies, sucked in a lung full of smoke and blew it out in one long funnel out of the corner of his mouth. Everything about granddad was cool.

"Knowing won't help you understand. I don't understand." John looked lost. It was the first time I questioned why he was here, trapped in a house with me.  Was he unable to move on, was he paying for his sins? 

"John?" I felt like I was willingly stepping on a land mine. "Where were you before you came here?"

The question startled him. I saw his shoulders tense. I'd zagged instead of zigged and taken him by surprise. "Nowhere." John likes being cryptic, but I think in this case he meant exactly what he said. He didn't lift his head, he continued to stare at his hands as they fidgeted in his lap. "That's how the afterlife works sometimes. You're not good enough, you're not bad enough, you're nothing."

My throat tightened and it took all my control not to let tears fall or to pull him into a bear hug. The poor bastard. I drank the last of my coffee and took my time before I spoke again. Another thought struck me. "Are you waiting for something?"

He looked up at me with huge sad eyes. "Ah! You can't say." John nodded. I left it at that, I didn't want to cause him more pain.

"OK then...let's do it.  How about you come tonight.  The sooner we get it over with better."  I gave him permission to enter my dreams so I could get my answers. I stood up and walked around the table to him and put out my hand. He avoided making eye contact.  He wasn't happy about this at all.  John's transparent hand slipped into mine and we were back in my room by the time I blinked.  His transparent wispy self immediately moving away.

He left the room. "Nice chatting with you."  I much preferred his young self.  Even if he didn't talk much I could at least read his face.

"See you later Granddad." I yelled after him.