The sound of footsteps pounding against creaking floorboards echoed throughout the manor, rattling the empty beer bottles and soda cans surrounding Stretch, Stinkie, and Fatso whilst they enjoyed the remainder of the baseball game playing on the TV. As the noise continued, the three ghosts exchanged some annoyed faces.
Stretch scowled and craned his neck to properly yell, "hey, keep it down!"
Kat didn't bother looking in the trio's direction when she passed by, responding with a noncompliant "fuck off."
There was no time to waste. They had to get this figured out, fast, and she didn't know where else to turn to other than the door of her dad's study. Her fist knocked against mahogany. Her mind raced. Her heart felt like it was going to stall at any second. She was seconds away from calling for her dad like a child, but she knew as long as Casper lingered behind her, she couldn't give that away. She could feel his gaze burning into her back as they stood there, waiting for an answer.
The door creaked open. Behind a pair of bifocals, gentle eyes quickly turned concerned. James wordlessly ushered the two inside, only speaking once the door was closed, "what's wrong?"
Kat shifted her jaw as she prepared to translate her panic to words. She looked at Casper in hopes that he might be able to provide a better explanation than what she was about to spew out, but all he had to offer was a blank face.
James sat on the edge of the desk, removed his glasses, and began polishing the lenses with his sleeves as he waited with an expectant raise of an eyebrow. Kat could recognize his method of quiet observation, how he evaluated all of his clients. She could also see that his display of patience was gradually revealing some amount of discomfort as he awkwardly shifted in place. It had been so long since he had any chance to do some real parenting. He had no idea what was in store.
Kat finally spoke, "so, do you remember that stuff about how ghosts forget things after they die?"
James' brows drew together in confusion. He nodded, still silent.
"There might be a little more to it than we thought."
What ensued was the longest therapy session Kat had ever endured with her dad, and she wasn't even the patient. Given that Casper didn't exactly have enough knowledge on hand to provide enough answers for the initial evaluation, Kat was the second best source to fill in the gaps. Questions only multiplied as the hours passed- like those monsters in Greek mythology, when their heads are cut off and several grow back in place- the questions would never meet their end unless they could uncover the true source of it all. That didn't seem to be a possibility.
Kat couldn't recall when the sun began to set, but it was already dark outside. She had to turn on a lamp to see the pages of the book she held, a journal her dad had been keeping to record his observations on ghosts. The pages were filled with years worth of notes on the "physical" characteristics of ghosts, habits, and everything they had been told directly from either Stretch, Fatso, Stinkie, or Casper- though it was impossible to tell how much of the ghostly trio's insite was factual. James had gained more knowledge on the afterlife since living in Whipstaff than at any other point in his career, but even he was at a loss for a proper course of action.
"The best we can do at this time is to be mindful of your behavior," James explained.
Casper listened to every word intently, and rather wearily. His eyelids fluttered as he fought against the temptation to doze off. Kat had never seen him like this before. Based on what she had learned just from living with the McFaddens, ghosts didn't experience fatigue in the same way as the living. As her dad had described in his journals: without a physical vessel that regularly exerts energy and requires constant maintenance, there's nothing for spirits to be affected by. With all of that in mind, none of this was good.
"If you're noticing anything that might be off, you need to make it known, " James continued, "I'm not sure how long we'll need to track these. . . symptoms of yours, but it's crucial that you tell us everything. And as soon as possible."
"I understand, doc," Casper said through a yawn. "It's been a long day. Could we go ahead and call it quits?"
"You're sure there's nothing else we can do?" Kat asked, despite Casper's suggestion. "It's already gotten this bad, and we don't know if it's reversible."
"Only time can tell," James said as he drew the curtains closed. "We'll figure it out," he reassured.
Kat wanted to agree, but she couldn't deny the part of herself that was already losing hope. It might've been partially due to her obliviousness towards all of the signs, all of the moments when it should've been obvious that something was wrong. Maybe they could've gotten this figured out already if she hadn't been so stubborn. She felt selfish and horrible. If this was the worst case scenario and Casper was on the brink of losing all of his memories, even his entire sense of self, she only had herself to blame.
* * *
Kat floated in and out of consciousness. Her dreamstate had been bleeding on and off into reality, with the rhythm of waves pulling back and forth on a beach. She could feel the rust-coated roof of the lighthouse under her feet and a cold gust of wind across her cheeks. In her dream, she waited for Casper. He had gone off somewhere, to a place she didn't know. She lost track of how long she had been waiting. Her watch was broken, but she kept checking it, having convinced herself that the time was still right somehow. She could leave any time she wanted, but she needed to see him return with her own eyes, or else she wouldn't be able to fall asleep that night.
"Kat? Kaaaat?" Casper's voice was distant, like he was calling to her from the bottom of a well. "Have you been here all night?"
"Hm?" Kat lifted her head from her knees. Her puffy eyes squinted through the sunlight that poured in from the window across the room. She felt a burst of pain in her lower back as she unfurled herself from the awkward shape she had curled into when she fell asleep in the recliner. The jingle of a TV commercial triggered a headache. She groaned.
"I'll take that as a yes," Casper said.
Kat was too tired to care about whatever time it was. The crick in her neck wasn't stopping her from letting her head sink back into the soft cushion of the armrest. After another moment of disgruntled dozing, she felt a nudge against her arm. She managed to sit up straight and open her eyes just enough to see the bowl of cereal being offered to her, which she gladly took.
"Excited for the party tonight?" Casper asked. He held up the remote to turn down the volume of the TV.
Kat's eyes squinted. "Huh?"
"Are you excited for the party tonight?" he repeated to her like a retirement home nurse struggling to communicate with the elderly.
"The party," she repeated. Her mind finally caught up. Her eyes widened. "I need to call Zach."
Kat sat the bowl of cereal on the coffee table before making her way to the other side of the room, towards the telephone. Casper turned his attention back to the TV, "is he gonna pick you up?"
"No, I need to cancel."
"What?"
Her finger hovered over the buttons. "I can't go to the party. There's too much going on right now. . ." She cursed under breath once she realized she couldn't remember the number. Before she could even consider searching her bedroom for it, Casper had taken the handset from her.
"You can't not go just 'cause of me," he swatted Kat's hands away and held the phone higher, out of her reach.
"You're the one who didn't want me to go in the first place." She pointed at him with an accusing finger, "but now you're on board?"
Casper sighed, "I'm sorry for acting the way I did. . . " Some of his energy had returned while they had both been resting. Now he seemed a little more like himself. Still, his voice was a bit raspy, almost hoarse. "In all honesty, I was jealous," he admitted, "and I still am. . . but I'll get over it." He put the phone down.
Kat looked at the phone, then back at Casper. She hugged her arms against her chest. "Are you sure you'll be okay while I'm gone?"
"Positive," Casper said. "Besides, your dad and my uncles will be here all night. It's not like I'll be all by myself," he pointed out, and right on cue, three distinct cackles split through the air. God knows what those three were up to. Bringing the ghostly trio into the mix wasn't exactly putting her at ease.
Kat took a moment to consider. She still wanted to go, of course, but it wasn't that simple of a decision. It didn't matter how much Casper persuaded. It didn't matter how long she had been literally dreaming about getting to spend her first ever romantic evening with a guy. There was nothing that could help her to go to the party one hundred percent guilt-free.
"Just go, okay?" Casper said. He spoke teasingly, but equally firm. He almost sounded annoyed to be doing such excessive assuring. "If you don't then I'll just have to bug you about it for the rest of your life."
"Fine. I'll go." Kat nodded with a growing smile. "I won't feel good about it. . . but I'll go."
Casper smiled back. After a pause, his tired eyes grew a little brighter as he said "if it would make you feel any better, you could go trick or treating with me."
Kat laughed. "I haven't been trick or treating in years."
"So?" countered Casper. "It would still be fun!"
"What's in it for me?"
"Candy," came the obvious answer, "and a clear conscience."
Kat rolled her eyes, still smiling. "You know what? You got yourself a deal."
She held up a pinky, as did Casper, as a gesture of the ultimate oath: the pinky promise
* * *
It took a few hours of staring back and forth from the makeshift witch costume to the old wedding gown before Kat finally made a decision. The wedding dress felt like her only option. It was the closest she had to a good luck charm. The dress had been close enough to her size when she first put it on. Now, as she tied the satin sash around her waist, it fit like a glove. It was a strange feeling to look in the mirror and suddenly see what could've been an entirely different dress.
Kat made the executive decision that this was the night to try out some eye makeup. She had a few magazines that had been collecting dust, all from an awkward period in which her dad randomly picked up issues of Seventeen and Tiger Beat from the grocery store every couple of weeks. He must've been following some kind of weird parenting advice he read in the paper. Whatever that phase was, they had an unspoken agreement to never speak of it.
She followed the article's instructions as closely as she could manage with her limited collection of dollar store makeup products. The guide was putting a lot of emphasis on getting the right balance of black and bronze to help bring out a "tawny glow", whatever that means . Was the smokey look still in? Who the hell pays enough attention to everyone else's eye makeup to care? Kat wasn't sure what "look" she was going for, but what she was seeing in the mirror definitely wasn't it. The eyeshadow looked smudged. She seemed to have accidentally added in a bit of purple, which gave the impression of two black eyes. It was still passable, though. Considering that it was Halloween, Kat chose to go along with it.
The one thing that definitely wasn't working was the hair situation. She might have been a tad overambitious with her attempt at crimping, by folding strands of hair in tinfoil and applying heat with a hairdryer. She had definitely achieved something. . . close to crimped hair. After studying her handiwork in the mirror, she opted for a ponytail.
Kat had planned on being ready by an hour or two in advance, and she would've been if she hadn't locked eyes with her reflection in the mirror. It put her in a daze, staring intently in the mirror as she lost all sense of self. She was still caught off guard by seeing herself in the dress. She snapped out of it once she noticed the mirrored image of the clock behind her. It was best to leave now and avoid the nightmarish risk of her date interacting with the undead side of the family. This was her chance at a real romantic outing. There was no way she was going to let anyone ruin it that easily.
Kat stood up from the vanity and began kicking away some of the clothing on the floor in search of her shoes. She had one in hand and was about to reach for the other when she felt something bite into her bare heel. She cursed and dropped the shoes in surprise. The pain died out after a moment of balancing on the uninjured foot while massaging the other.
The perpetrator was a Lisa Frank keychain. It must have slipped out of the pocket of the jeans laying near it. Kat picked it up and inspected it in her hand. She was considering tossing in the wastebasket just out of pettiness towards the inanimate object. It wasn't like the girl with the red hat would ever know what had become of it, but Kat still would've felt bad for throwing away such a harmless gift.
Kat didn't know what possessed her to secure the keychain to her shoelaces and hide it under the tongue of the boot. The leather was thick enough so that she couldn't feel the hard plastic pressing against her foot. She felt silly for putting in the effort. She could easily imagine a scenario in which her laces come undone and everyone in the room witnesses a sparkly, rainbow puppy keychain popping out from her shoe of all places. She was only increasing her chances of embarrassing herself in ways that only she could manage to pull off. Weirdly enough, something about it brought on a sort of assurance. As Kat made her way down the stairs, she felt more at ease than she had in weeks (although a bit of a confidence boost would still be nice.)
She reached the end of the staircase and stopped in the middle of the foyer. It was completely absent, which was puzzling. Kat had been expecting to be greeted by the entire household in the form of a group-led lecture on what not to do on her first outing to a house party. It wasn't something she had been looking forward to, but the lack of it was oddly disappointing.
Voices echoed from down the adjacent hallway. It sounded like just the right amount of voices to include all of the missing people in question. Kat followed the echoes. The increasing volume of laughter led her to her dad's room. His door had been left ajar to reveal all four of the McFaddens as they pestered James. He was in the middle of wrestling on a necktie with the not-so-helpful assistance of Stretch, Stinkie, and Fatso. Casper watched from the sidelines in dismay.
"Put your back into it!" Stinkie shouted.
Fatso pushed him away "Give me some space, would ya? I'm trying to concentrate."
Stretch intervened by placing himself between his brothers. "We're going about this all wrong! Maybe it's not the tie that needs adjusting. . ."
James pulled the tie away with a nervous gulp. "How many times do I need to remind you three-"
"Mutilation isn't socially acceptable. . ." the trio groaned in unison.
"What're you up to?" Kat asked as she entered. "Big plans for tonight?" Internally she began to pray that her dad wasn't about to reveal himself as a spontaneous chaperone.
James looked at her with a wide-eyed stare, like she had just walked into something that she wasn't supposed to be seeing. Casper and his uncles seemed to be in on it. The ghostly trio were whispering and exchanging snickers while Casper looked in any direction other than Kat's.
"I uh. . . it's-" James stammered, "I wasn't sure if now was the right time to tell you. . ."
"Tell me what?" Kat looked back and forth from her dad to the ghostly trio, waiting for someone to finally crack.
"The doc's got a date!" Fatso exclaimed.
Kat was at a loss for words. She wasn't exactly surprised or shocked. There was no immediate negative or positive emotion that surfaced. It came so far out of left field that she didn't know how to react either way. The trio continued in their laughter while James forced himself into a chuckle, trying to laugh along rather than obviously being the one who was being laughed at. His face turned pink.
"That's great!" Kat cringed as she said it. It came out as a little over-enthusiastic. "I mean, like. . . it's great that you're putting yourself out there."
James let his arms drop, leaving his necktie to hang limp. His expression fell. "Are you sure?"
Kat knew he would eventually work up the courage to move on. It had been a slow process over the years, as James finally stopped avoiding the topic whenever she came up. Her pictures had dispersed all throughout the walls of the manor, rather than being confined to his office in the study. They both knew it was time. Mom would've wanted this for him. If anything, she would probably scold him at this moment if he was considering backing out.
"I don't care."
The ghostly trio broke out in a cacophony of mockery as they exclaimed "OOH!" "Ouch!" "That's gotta hurt!"
Kat raised her voice to talk over the trio, "you know what I mean."
James pulled off the neck tie and cast it aside in defeat. "I just don't want to make things. . . weird," he admitted, "if I'm inviting someone into my life, then that affects you too."
"Hey, what about us?" Stretch butted in with crossed arms.
James nodded with a sigh, "yes, that includes all four of you." He looked back at his daughter. "Depending on whether or not she could endure the whole family without running for the hills."
"I don't want you to worry about what I think," Kat said. "It's your life. You should do what you want." She held back from bringing up mom in the conversation, to point out that even she would be saying the same thing, but Kat knew just the name alone would be enough to shut down any hope that James would finally move on.
"Hm. I didn't think she'd take the news this well. . ." Stinkie said, breaking the silence.
"Why wouldn't I?"
Casper finally chimed into the conversation, "I dunno, with it being Ms. Buckley and all-" He clasped a hand over his mouth as he realized.
Kat just stood there. This time there was no way that she wasn't making some sort of face. She could feel her nose wrinkle up as she processed what she was hearing.
"I can't do this," James said, "I'll give her a call and tell her that something came up at the last minute. . . " He stood and began to make his exit from the room, then stopped in place. "Can anyone think of a good family emergency?"
"Dad," Kat took hold of his arm to prevent him from leaving, "I'm fine with it. I promise."
"Really? You don't think it's weird?"
"Of course it's weird." She was completely blunt. There was no point in sugarcoating it. "She's my teacher," Kat had to repress a grimace beginning to take hold of her face, "but I don't care as long as it makes you happy."
James blinked and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. It was painful to watch. Kat wished he would just shed a tear or two and get it over with instead of aggressively blinking and avoiding eye contact. After another beat, he coughed to clear his throat as he prepared to say something further.
The doorbell rang. All heads turned to stare out the door, into the hallway.
Kat turned to leave, but stopped to look back at her dad. She gave him a quick, tight hug as she said "you better not cancel on her. If my grades drop it'll be on you."
She didn't give any of them a chance to say goodbye or give the expected speech on being a responsible adult- god forbid a refresher on the birds and the bees- Kat nearly fell over as the heels of her boots slid across the floor, like slipping on ice, and caught herself against the door. She took in a deep breath and let out a slow exhale before tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ears and fluffing out the skirt of her dress.
She held her breath and closed her eyes, almost afraid that he wouldn't be there when she looked, or that this was all an elaborate scheme created by Amber to try and accomplish what she failed to do on Kat's first Halloween in Friendship. Kat brushed the thought aside to remind herself about the goal of being civil with Amber, as the bare minimum. She wasn't going to think about Amber or any petty middle school drama. None of it mattered. Especially not tonight.
Kat could hear footsteps approaching from behind. Her dad's voice sounded determined to prevent some certain ghosts from intruding on this moment. If she was going to do this, it had to be now. No looking back.
Finally, she opened the door.