A Ghost on the Coast

I've been sailing on the sea for as long as I can remember. Every fisherman has his tales, but I'm not a regular fisherman. I don't even fish. I just take my little sailboat out across the world, believing in Mother Nature's gentle hands to guide me. One day, she threw me a curveball, but I have since knocked it out of the park in more ways than one, and I have the witnesses to prove it. When we're kids, we have our share of imaginary friends, but from the outset, I knew this wasn't imaginary. I was with my Dad, and he was teaching me the ropes of sailing. "Try to pull this rope" Dad handed me a small white rope, and I pulled strongly. At first it didn't budge, but with Dad's help, it moved to its proper place. "Daddy?" I said "yes?" he answered. "One day, I'll help you pull the ropes if you have trouble." I said, dreaming of the future. "I'm sure you will. It's in our blood. We're built for the sailing life." Dad said, having a slight nostalgic tone. On we went, onto the inviting sea. "This is wild isn't it?" "Yes it is, daddy!" I answered. "huh?" Dad said, confused. "I said, yeah, this is wild!" I told him. "I didn't say anything." Dad said back, even more confused. "Does the sea have voices, daddy?" I asked. "...it shouldn't, unless Sirens have become real." Dad said, sounding somewhat worried. "Do you have imaginary friends?" He continued to ask me. "Two, daddy. Sonic and Tails." They were my favorite characters at the time. I guess they still are. "If I was your age, they'd be my friends too. Let's keep moving." Dad told me. I heard a distant splash. "Look Daddy! A whale!" It was amazing! Possibly the biggest whale I've ever seen (of course, when you're a kid, things seem bigger when they're not). "Huh. They shouldn't be out here this time of year. Stranger and stranger." Dad observed. The next thing I knew, I felt something hit me on the legs. I looked but there wasn't anything sliding around, nor was there anything flopping onto the deck. "Something hit me, daddy." I proclaimed, rubbing my legs to dull the pain. "Maybe it's a poltergeist!" Dad said, jokingly. He may have been joking, but I believed in ghosts, so naturally I thought it actually was one. From then on, every time we went out sailing, something paranormal would happen. The strange thing was that whenever Dad went out alone, he said that nothing paranormal happened. A few years later, the ghost spoke to me again, after a long period of silence. "Don't be scared" It said simply. I let loose a little gasp, but being careful not to alert Dad. "I've been sailing for a while now, tackling monster waves, and sometimes monster ships. I'm not scared of you." I said back, quietly. "Yet, you still call big things monsters?" it questioned. "I don't know how else to describe them. What would you call them?" "Who are you talking to, son?" Dad overheard me talking. "uhh... Sonic?" I replied, thinking quickly. My imaginary friends were still heavy in my mind at the time. "I think it's about time you stopped with the imaginary friends" Dad said sternly. "But they're the best!" The ghost and I said in stereo. "Whoa, what have I been drinking? I'm hearing double!" Dad said, somewhat frantically. "Don't panic, Dad!" I said quickly, to bring him back to his senses. Dad had started drinking heavily of late, since Mom left us. "You shouldn't be sailing if you're like this, Dad!" I said, for what felt like the millionth time. He would always ignore me, and a few times our boat tilted too much, and we would fall in. "Matches his personality, don't you think?" "Yep. To a T." The ghost and I shared. More years later, and Dad was finally beginning to show me the ropes of sailing, though I gathered a lot already from watching him. "I won't be able to do this much longer, kid. It's time you learned how to pilot this thing. It's just like you said. You'll soon be helping me pull the ropes." "You remember that?" "Of course I do. I may drink a lot, but that doesn't mean I can't remember things." Dad and I went back and forth. "Just none of that ghost business, okay?" "I'm trying to tell you, she exists. Why won't you believe me?" "It's kind of hard to believe anything anymore with my condition." Dad lamented. "So, what have you got to lose? Believing in something doesn't make it real, at least not initially." I proved. "True. You believed in your imaginary friends, yet they were never real" Dad proved. "Well, technically..." "Don't start." Dad stopped me. "I'm too drunk to hear technicalities." "At least you acknowledge your drunkenness" I said, somewhat ashamed. "Should I rough him up a bit?" The ghost asked me. I thought about this question for a while, but before I could answer, the ghost was already floating a rope in his general direction. "Stop!" I shouted. The rope dropped, and Dad turned around. "What? Why?" He said simply. I was stuck in thought. "Should I tell him about the ghost, or shouldn't I, in fear that he might completely lose it?" "Why am I stopping? What's that rope doing?" Dad was getting worse. "May I take the helm so we can go home? You're... not looking too good." "It's good to know my son still cares about me. Sure, go for it." "I'll provide some wind!" The ghost said. "You're right son. I'm definitely not feeling well, because I'm hearing voices again!" I couldn't help but laugh. Now we're caught up to today, and the ghost has started sticking to the coastline. Dad has retired from the sailing life, still drunk as ever. It's part of his personality, and occasionally comes with me for sailing. Just before we leave the coast, in good spirit, he says hi to the ghost, and I say hi. "You sure you don't want to come along?" I asked the ghost. "You know what? Why not." "Don't do anything funny!" It seems that Dad accepts the existence of the ghost now. "You know, I never asked you. Do you remember how you died, or who you were before?" I asked the ghost. "You haven't figured it out yet? It's me son, your mother." I was shocked. "How could it have been you when I was little, and why would you hit me? "Hit you? I wouldn't do that." "Huh. I guess Dad was right. It was a poltergeist!" I told her. "It's amazing you remember all that. I just wish I could've gone with you guys when I was still alive." Mom lamented. "Well, you've certainly made my life a lot better. It's a once in a lifetime thing when you befriend a ghost, and that ghost is your own mother." I said. "Couldn't have said it better myself." I heard my Dad say. "I wish I could say it's good to see you honey, but I can only hear you. How I miss you so..." Dad sobbed. "Maybe you'll stop drinking now?" Mom asked. "I'll..." dad hesitated "I'll try." "Will you come with us on shore?" I asked her. "Since you asked so nicely, sure. It's been too long since I've been home." And just like that, we were a family again; A father, a son, and a holy ghost, who happens to be my mother. I wouldn't have it any other way.