The Ordinary Haunting

14. The Backwards Look

"Tay, Khaotung looks the same as any other day. Go take pictures of your brother, would you?"

My knees were starting to itch upon the bark of the garden so I rocked back onto the heels of my bare feet and met my mother's shaking head with a wry smile.

"I need photos of everyone to look at when I'm in the city. That includes Khaotung."

"'Especially', you mean." Mum sniggered, then shook her head again. "You never used to look at your photos. That big tub of used film is still under your bed, you know. We always thought it was odd--"

"Who's 'we'? Everybody?"

"Yes. So you're actually going to process them now, love?"

I stood up and stretched out my legs. The noon sun was blazing high in the middle of the sky and even though sweating wasn't a concern of mine anymore, I enjoyed the breeze under my untucked shirt. Khaotung whipped up from where she'd been sprawled along the grey brick edge of the pool and sprinted off towards the house. The many groups of Vihokratanas and their extensions who were clustered beneath the patio beckoned her into their midst eagerly. Oh, to be a pet, I mused.

"I'm planning to. I can't get back here to visit as often, so I figured it'll be nice to keep something of it all with me there."

Mum held out her hand for the phone I'd been using -- mine, recovered but sporting some dents and a screen cracked in the corner -- and swiped through the camera roll. Her black hair swung about her face and I spotted a few silver strands in her part.

"I'm glad," she said. "I was worried you might take this ghost thing as some kind of action movie and go running off to be a superhero, instead of using the chance to slow down and--"

"Don't be silly," I spluttered, shoving my hands into my pockets where I could hide their embarrassed clenching.

"Tawan." Mum kneaded her eyes and I picked up a sun umbrella sitting nearby to hold it over her head. "Have you talked to New about why you two are connected?"

My fingers slipped on the umbrella's handle, almost as if I really was sweating a little.

"Not really."

"Tay--"

"Mum, there's nothing, I swear. I've thought it over as much as I can--"

"I don't believe you have."

"Mum--"

"Tay, I've always been proud of how strong you are, really." Oh no, where's a good zap when you need it? "When you were a kid I taught you to move on from the things that made you sad as quickly as possible, and when you were a kid that was the best thing to do. But adult life slows down so much. You can't keep pushing forward and refusing to let troubles affect you."

A cheer broke out by the house. It looked like Uncle Pat had finally broken the ancient picnic chair he'd been bringing to our family functions for ten-plus years. I let my legs draw me towards the smiles and loud chattering, wondering who won the pot. Mum's hand appeared on my arm, her face firm with concentration. I stopped.

"It's okay to struggle and fight a little, Tay."

She took hold of the umbrella, handed me my phone and joined her family. She dusted off her brother's shirt and fixed his lopsided sunglasses into place. And then she smacked him over the head and told him to clean up the broken bits of wood before one of the younger kids impaled themselves.

I looked down at the photo Mum had come upon. Off, Arm and I were squeezed together at what I surmised was last year's 'Christmas in July' work function. It was shot from selfie mode and was blurry and way off-centre. The lights from the club wriggled in neon streaks across our heads. I couldn't remember at what part of the night this had been taken, but I was sure I'd only gotten a smidge tipsy by the end of it, so my photography skills were not on good display here.