Ghost Not Forgotten

X: Now

Carmine came bobbling up, his scruffy head of feathers twitching left, right, up and down. He turned so his yellow eye pointed up at the sky. He didn't seem to care that I was there, and that didn't stop me from liking him.

Or naming him. For no reason in particular, I thought this random mess of a bird who decided to join me just looked like a Carmine.

I watched the old crow – who looked like he had flown into a moving fan one too many times – as he limped about (he was missing a toe on one foot) croaking his caws like an old smoker would. He was so beaten and worn, just trying to move his way around like the rest, minding his own business.

At least I wasn't the only one.

He began yanking on a worm mighty determined to stay in the ground. I watched him from my seat in front of my scraggly tree on my hill, my mind far from his battle, ticking like a clock set at warp speed. I was thinking about him hard. Bennet this time, not Carmine.

I was thinking about how I had lived half of my life without him and, with that in mind, I shouldn't have been so bent out of shape over this whole thing. He had left what seemed like a lifetime ago. I had dealt with everything that followed his disappearance, I had graduated from high school, nursed my mama until she died, gotten married and divorced all while he was gone. So much had happened in those 16 years. I had moved on and I'm sure he had too. For all I knew he could be married with three kids – though that thought made me furious.

It shouldn't have. I had no right to be mad or jealous. It had been too long, he shouldn't mean that much to me still.

I was satisfied. I wasn't happy, not really, but I wasn't miserable. I was bored, but that's what life in Keplar's does to a person. I was fine, I was content. I had pushed him and everything attached to him from my constant thoughts and moved on. It took years to do it, but I did it, and I had been okay since. Or had I?

I sighed and let my head fall until it hit the tree. Maybe I'd sleep there.

Then I heard footsteps and the rustle of a bush. My heart leapt up into my throat.

"You ran off again, Natty Jean."

I didn't open my eyes. "But you found me."

"Of course I did," he said, and I felt him sit down next to me. Shoulder to shoulder, not quite hip to hip, but pretty close. His cologne hit my nose first but, being as close as he was, through it I could catch a faint smell of something familiar.

Sun-baked skin.

I kept my eyes closed; hugging myself. Carmine cawed, irritated, and with a clumsily flapping of heavy wings, flew off. Abandoning me.

I opened my eyes after a few seconds, but didn't look at him. Instead, I gazed below at the handful of fireflies that were the lighted windows of Keplar's Grove. I was happy to see dusk had finally come. Keplar's looked so pretty. Compared to most views, it wasn't exciting, but I liked it. It was peaceful. I reckon I could stare at it for years and be just fine.

"I knew I'd find you here." I could tell he was smiling by his tone.

I let out a slow breath. "There's a part of me that wishes you wouldn't try to find me."

He sighed and shifted a little. His arm rubbed against mine. It was so warm, the rest of me felt cold.

"Can't help it, Natty," he grunted lowly. "I hafta see you."

"Shut up."

"I'm serious. If you'd just let me talk to you instead of runnin' away every time maybe I could–"