(Absolution: A Ghost Story)

part one.  

it’s called moving on. you don’t know what that is?

the ghost shakes his head. crown of crow feathers. moon skin. eyes like christmas ornaments.

it’s how you leave this place, i guess. haven’t you tried?

but the ghost is weeping willows in an empty field. the ghost is romancing the worms.

we can look together, i say.

i take him with me. the worms are sad. the birds look hungry.

part two.  

i take the ghost home.

i ask the ghost if he can turn invisible because i have a bear and he’s not very nice. the ghost says he will try, and he turns his body into a cup.

there, he says. now i am invisible.

i wonder if the ghost confused invisible, with useful.

ghostcup, full of water, throws a haunted shadow.

part three.

don’t you believe in heaven?

i don’t, but i don’t tell the ghost this.

we sit, entwined, in my bathtub. the curtain is pulled closed and i have brought out all the candles.

the ghost is afraid of electricity. says it hurts like snow.

i don’t think heaven is here, he says. i would have found it by now.

part four.  

we will not become lovers.

i think this is obvious, but it’s also important (i have taken a vow of self and other, which means nothing to the ghost).

i tell the ghost i am the sluttiest nun. i am the most chaste of teases.

he understands this, but in the way of ghosts. in the way of boys.

i take him into the basement to watch movies. i make him a bed behind the dryer. and no, i don’t leave.

part five.

i have this dream, and i tell it to the ghost boy.

i have this dream and in this dream i have this garden. it feeds me. i have this dream, and i have this garden, and i have this monster. we share a dangerous house, but it is ours. there are knives everywhere. i step on one every day before breakfast. the monster bandages my foot while i eat.

can i meet your monster, the ghost boy asks.

i tell him it is impossible. instead, we go to the zoo, and i show him the panthers.