Me Again

First he peered into the room, and then he came through the door noiselessly and sat down on the bed beside me.

He was dressed well, in clothes that fit him perfectly. His hair was dark, the colour of old oak – just like mine. His eyes looked too big for his face.

"Hello, Faramir," he said softly. "It's me again."

"So I see," I said.

He looked at the ground for a few seconds, then raised his head and gazed at me sharply.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" he asked.

I looked back at him with equal composure.

"Haven't you asked me this before?" I replied, trying to keep my voice soft and my tone even.

"Yes," he replied, still looking intently at my face. "But 'yes and no' and 'maybe, maybe not' aren't answers."

I looked around my old room.

"Have you seen this place in the moonlight?" I asked.

The boy nodded silently.

"Glimmering marble…silhouettes of trees outside the window…it looks ghostly all right."

"I don't mean that," he said.

"How about outside?" I asked. "Roses in the moonlight, and the glinting gravel…if that is not ghostly, then I don't know what is."

"I don't mean that," he said again. "I mean real ghosts."

I was silent for a while, gazing at the clear sky outside the window.

Then I turned to face him.

"Yesterday," I said slowly, "When you came here, you said there was a bird's nest between the eaves, just there."

He nodded.

"I looked," I said. "I looked, and there wasn't."

He looked inquiringly at me. I struggled to speak without a quaver.

"But there used to be," I said. "There was one – a long time ago now."

"A long time ago," he repeated tonelessly.

"And after that, you led me to the dusty, unused stables and asked me where my brother's horse was."

"I did," he said, nodding.

"He doesn't keep his horse there any more," I said, not wanting to say why. "But he did. He did forty years ago."

"Forty years…" breathed the boy.

"I saw the way you came through the door. Right through it."

He looked up at me innocently.

"And I know who you are. Yes, I do believe in ghosts."

He smiled.

Then he faded. He had the last time, as well.

But I could still hear the echo of his voice.

THE END