A Ghost of a Chance

"Were they gay?" I asked.

"You don't ask folks such a thing, especially your elders." Ida said. "But, I think so. I think they really loved each other and that's why Henry never got over it. I think it was a tragedy for both of them. I still hate to think of Henry alone in that house all of those years."

"Are those the pictures on the walls, the two men?"

"That was them. Henry was the light haired one and Peter was dark. There's still a photo album in the bottom of the sideboard that has pictures of them, too."

"Maybe they're together, now." I said.

"The good Lord willing." she replied. "Now, do you want to move?"

"I love the house more than ever, now." I said. "And you took care of him, didn't you, after he got old. I think you loved him, too. That's why you took such good care of his house."

Ida looked uncomfortable and she rose from the bench and said, "We all just do what we need to do. I don't know about all of that other foolishness."

She looked down at me and said, "Well, are you going to sit here all day?"

"I am going to sit awhile." I said.

"Suit yourself; I've got work to do."

She turned and left and I waved a moment later as her car cruised by.

I sat thinking about the story I'd heard and about the kindness of strangers. Sometimes, people are just good to each other because that's the only way they know.

As I carried my vase and picture to my car, I suddenly had an inspiration, so after stowing them in the car trunk I went back to Betty's shop.

When I entered, Betty was wrestling with a pile of clothing and she asked, "Back again so soon? Did I tempt you with an offer to sell you the whole lot?"

"I came back about the clock." I said.

Betty immediately got a closed look on her face and asked, "Ida's clock?"

"Yes, I want to buy it. Will you take a check?"

I could tell how hard the idea hit her.

"I can't sell you Ida's clock, it will break her heart. Can't you buy another clock?"

"I'm buying it for Ida." I told her. "When Tom comes to pick up my items, tell him that a mystery buyer left money and a note saying that the clock should go home with him to Ida. Tell him that they want her to have it."

"She'll never fall for that, she'll know it was you."

"Let me worry about that." I said. "Now, do you want credit card, check or should I run to the bank and get cash?"

* * * * * *

Early that afternoon I was sitting outside again when an older model pickup pulled into the drive and backed its rear end up to the porch steps.

An older man dressed in worn jeans and a flannel shirt stepped out of the cab. It was obvious looking at him that he'd been quite a looker in his youth, he was still unusually handsome. He looked like he was pure muscle, not a bit of fat on him, the way older men who have always worked hard get.

"I'm Tom White." he said; hand out to shake while appraising me.

"I'm glad to finally meet you." I said. "I've wanted to thank you for the fantastic job you did on the painting."

"It was easy." he said. "And I knew that if I didn't do it totally right the first time, Ida would make me do it over again until she was satisfied." We both chuckled, envisioning her demanding it be done over.

"Your wife is a remarkable woman." I said. "I wish I'd met her years ago."

"They surely broke the mold." he replied. "Now, I've got some deliveries for you."

He let down the tailgate of the truck and I could see the sofa, the porch swing upended at one end and lying on the bed a huge coffin shaped package swaddled in enough packing blankets to survive an earthquake. I didn't mention the package.

"I haven't moved the other sofa." I told him. "I don't know what to do with it."

"We'll just carry it out and I'll put it on the truck and store it in our shed, just in case you ever want it. I know it's too good to throw away."

"I can't believe how kind everyone is around here." I said and he gave me an odd, narrow eyed look.

He and I carried the old sofa out and carried the new one in. It honestly looked so much like the previous one that you'd never know the difference.

We unloaded the porch swing and Tom, looking up, said, "Good, the hooks are already there. I'll bring some chain by and we'll have this hanging in no time."

I went down and helped load the old sofa onto the truck and when we'd completed that, Tom turned to me.

"I noticed that you haven't asked about my other delivery." he said.

"I didn't think it was any of my business." I replied.

"It's the funniest thing." he said, looking at me. "Ida has been pining after a clock in Betty's store for donkey years and when I went to pick up your things, Betty gave me some story that a mystery person had left money and a note saying that the clock was to be delivered to Ida."

"How lucky for her." I said. "She deserves it and more."

"If you realize that already, then you're a pretty smart man." Tom said.

He paused a moment and then said, "Ida isn't used to fancy presents. If she suspects who the mystery buyer was, she may give him a good talking to."

"I'm sure he's been through worse and survived." I replied.

Tom smiled and said, "Forewarned is forearmed. I wouldn't be surprised if you have a visitor after supper."

"I'll make some iced tea." I said.

"I'll be back tomorrow so we can hang your swing." he said and climbed into his truck. As he drove away he waved out of the window without looking back.

I spent the rest of the afternoon mooning around the house, hanging my dog picture and arranging dried weeds in my new vase on the mantel. I even found a pair of faded cretonne throw pillows in the upstairs linen closet of a blue shade close to the new vase that looked perfect on the sofa.

I ate a small dinner and made the iced tea, set out a tray and glasses and went out to sit on the porch steps and admire the view. About a half hour later, Ida's car pulled into the drive.

She got out of the car and marched down the path, her mouth set in a straight line.

"I know you bought that clock, I'm no fool." she said when she reached me.

"No one would ever mistake you for a fool." I said.

"Well, I can't accept it. It's too grand. I just met you. You can't do things like that."

"I can if I want to and I wanted to."

"I'm sending it back to you. Tom will bring it by."

"And I'll chop it into kindling wood if you do." I told her. "Either you have that clock or no one ever will."

I could tell by her outraged expression that she was shocked.

"You'll do no such a thing." she said.

"If that clock leaves your house, you just watch what happens."

Her expression softened and she said, "I wouldn't put it past you."

"Then you are a very wise woman. Take a seat and I'll bring you some iced tea to cool you down."

I went in and got the tray and pitcher and set it on the step between us.

"Tom already had that clock in the house and running when I got home." Ida said. "Of course, it's in the wrong spot. I'll make him move it when I get back. And I need to wax and polish it; Betty never did take decent care of it."

"I'm sure it will be appreciated now." I said. "I wanted to try to repay you for all of the care you've given this house. You'll never know what it means to me to have found it. I feel like I owe it all to you. For the first time in a long time, I'm looking forward to waking up tomorrow."

Ida sat musing for a moment and then she said, "You can tell this house had love in it, can't you?"

"I never thought of that but it's exactly right. The first time I stepped through the door I felt it."

The two of us sat drinking our tea and watching the light fade over the ocean.

"I've sat here many an evening before you came." Ida said. "Every time, I'd expect to see Peter and Henry walking on the sands, cutting up for each other."

"Maybe they do and we just can't see them." I replied.

After another little while Ida said, "I've got to be getting home. Don't surprise me again or I'll lay a 2X4 across your skull. Tom will be by tomorrow to help you hang the swing; he's got some of the gray trim paint left over so he'll bring that, too. The swing will be easier to paint once its hanging."

I remained sitting after she had gone. The light dwindled down until it was full dark. There was still enough light to make the sea almost glow, you could see it shining in the distance. For a few moments I fancied that I could see someone walking along the shore edge, a silhouette against the sea. I got up and went indoors.

That evening, I examined all of the photos hanging on the walls. Henry and Peter had both been handsome men and I checked each photo for some indication that they'd been gay. Of course, I didn't find any.

Then I remembered what Ida had told me that morning about the photo album in the sideboard. I opened one of the doors and soon found it and carried it into the living room. There was a floor lamp at one end of the sofa and I turned it on and then switched on the radio to listen to the old music.

Sitting on the sofa in the circle of light, I began to look through the album. There was page after page of photos of the two of them, separately and together. They looked so happy.

Each page made me sadder than the last, knowing how the story ended. I went through the album once and then started through the pages again. This time, I started to feel better. Even if it had all ended so badly, it was obvious that they'd been happy together. It was also obvious, at least to me, that they had been in love. I was glad that they'd at least had that much time together.

By the time I'd finished my second look, it was time for bed. I got up and put the album away and then I stood in front of the photo on the wall that showed both men. Peter had died so young and Henry had wasted away for all of his years after. The unfairness made me want to scream and jump up and down, beat on the walls and break windows. Instead, I climbed the stairs and climbed into bed.

I had left the window open a crack and the sound of the sea and the fresh air lulled me as I lay there. I fell to sleep almost at once.

Some time later, I awoke. It was still night and the full moon was shining into my window, the cold light stretched across the floor almost to my bed. I lay looking at it until I became aware of a shape in the corner. There was an old upholstered chair there that I had put my clothing on before going to bed. Now, with the moonlight glaring into the room, the corner appeared almost pitch black but there was enough reflected light to almost make out the shape of a figure sitting there. I should have been frightened but for some reason I wasn't. I lay waiting for the figure to move but it never did and when I finally switched on the bedside lamp, there was nothing but an empty chair.

The next morning as soon as I opened my eyes, my thoughts returned to Peter and Henry. I had had some dream about the two of them but I couldn't remember it now, only flashes from the whole.

After showering and dressing I went downstairs to have breakfast. I was just going into the kitchen by the hall door when for some reason I glanced behind me. Silhouetted against the light of the front door was the shape of a man. I glanced into the kitchen to make sure there was no one in there and when I turned back, the figure was gone. I walked into the kitchen and back out through the dining room door, then into the living room. There was no one anywhere in the house.

Soon after breakfast I heard Tom's truck outside. He was already on the porch and fooling with the swing and chains by the time I got out there. It was a simple matter to cut the chains to the right length and with a ladder he'd brought we soon had the swing suspended from the porch. We both sat down to try it out.

"Have you ever seen a ghost?" I asked Tom.

"Sure, when I was in the Navy. Every time I drank too much rum, I saw all sorts of things. Don't tell me you're already getting squirrely out here by yourself."

"No, I was just thinking about a comment Ida made last night about expecting to see someone who isn't there."

"Don't you ever tell Ida I said so but only crazy people see ghosts."

"At least I'll be able to tell when I go off the edge, then." I said.

Tom left me with the swing and a can of paint. I preferred to just sit and watch the ocean from my new swing.

My phone rang and I saw that it was my real estate agent in the city. She'd had an offer, she said, and wanted to give a counter offer. We agreed on a figure and it seemed like I had just hung up when she called right back and said the buyers had accepted our offer. I had signed all of the necessary paperwork before I left town, all that was left was for the buyers to sign. The money, she told me, would be in my account in a matter of days. When she hung up I realized that for better or worse, I lived only here now.

While it was on my mind I phoned the auction house. Everything in the apartment had been picked up and the condo had been thoroughly cleaned. They were working on a catalogue that would include my items and wanted to know if I would come to the presale viewing or the auction itself. I told them I wasn't able to attend.

My entire past life had disappeared. It felt as if I had finally exhaled. I went down and walked along the beach, observing the waves and the squawking birds. Finally, I took off my shoes, rolled up my trousers and stomped around at the edge of the surf for awhile. I felt totally free.

When I tired of splashing I sat on the sand and watched the light play over the waves. It was a cloudy day but still beautiful. Every shade of gray imaginable was in the sky, the sea and the sand.

Starting to feel a little chilly, I picked up my shoes and headed for home. When I came in sight of the house, I saw someone sitting on the swing, lazily rocking back and forth. I wasn't expecting anyone but I wasn't alarmed. It was probably someone selling something or a Mormon.

I had gotten almost abreast of the house when I dropped a shoe and bent to pick it up. When I looked back at the porch, the figure was gone. The swing still swung slightly back and forth but no one was in sight. It would have been impossible for anyone to disappear so completely in such a short time.

* * * * * *

As was now my habit, I spent that evening looking at the old photo album while listening to the nostalgia station on the radio. I slept well though I kept having dreams of Peter and Henry.

The next morning when I went downstairs to eat breakfast, the figure of a man was once again standing at the front door.

I walked up to the figure. Even though my footsteps were audible on the wood floor, he didn't turn or move. It was as if he wasn't even aware of me.

When I was close enough, I leaned forward to see his face. He looked exactly like the photos of Peter that I had been spending so much time looking at. That was when I decided that I was having some sort of mental breakdown.

I spun around and walked down the hall to the kitchen and made myself a bowl of cornflakes. I had eaten half of the bowl before I even realized that I'd forgotten to add any sugar.

After finishing my breakfast, I walked back out into the hallway. The figure was gone.

I walked up to the front door and as I did so, I passed the door into the front living room. The figure was now sitting in one of the upholstered armchairs, hands resting on his knees and staring straight ahead, not even blinking.

I picked up my car keys and went outside. On the drive to Ida's place, I tried to think of how I was going to say what I had to tell her. By the time I'd arrived, I still had no clue.

Ida came out onto her porch when she heard my car in the drive and watched me as I walked toward her.

"If I have to go away for awhile, will you take care of the house?" I asked her.

"Going back to the city?" she said.

"No, I think I may have to spend some time at a hospital or something. I'm having a mental breakdown."

"Oh, foot!" Ida replied. "You're no crazier than most of the people in this town and a lot more sane than some of them. Get in here and tell me what's going on over a cup of coffee."

I followed her inside and allowed her to lead me to the kitchen. Tom was still sitting at the table, finishing his morning coffee and he nodded as I sat down. Ida brought a mug of coffee for me and her and then sat down across from me.

"Okay, spill it." she said.

"I've been seeing things." I told her. "It started out small, just little flashes of things. Then, I started thinking I saw people on the beach or around the house. I was already starting to worry, and then this morning when I came downstairs, I swear to god that Peter was standing in the hallway."

Ida looked at Tom, then back at me.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"I just went up to him and when I saw who it was, I had some cornflakes."

"That doesn't sound too scary." Tom said as he laughed.

"It wasn't scary. It wasn't like you read in ghost stories. He just stood there and then when I came back out of the kitchen; he was sitting in the living room."

"Did you talk to him?" Ida asked.

"No, he didn't look like he even knew I was there."

"My grandma used to claim to see spirits." Ida told me. "She always said that if you ask them what they want or what they need, they'll tell you."

"It sounds like your grandma was the one who needed a trip to the loony bin." Tom said.

Ida gave him a look that could have frozen Old Faithful, and then turned back to me.

"I never saw anything in all the years I took care of your place." she said. "I never seemed to have the gift. But, I always felt like there was someone there, just in another room or behind a door."

"Maybe you two can get adjoining rooms at the crazy house." Tom said.

Ida rose and grabbed Tom's ear and hauled him upright, then pulled him over to the back door.

"If you're not out of here and on your way to work in 5 seconds, you're going to lose a lot more than an ear." she told him.

"Yes, ma'am." Tom said. "I don't want to take a chance on disappointing my next wife."

"Like any woman would be crazy enough to have you besides me." she said as she opened the door and pushed him outdoors. When she shut the door, he stood outside and made kissy faces at her until she closed the curtains.

Sitting back down at the table, Ida asked, "When's the last time you saw a doctor?"

"A couple of months ago. He said that I'm in perfect health."

"Well, then."

"He didn't examine my brain."

"What you need to do is go home and confront your fear. If you think Peter is still sitting in your living room, sit down by him and ask him what he wants. You know as well as I do that there's nothing evil or hateful that could exist in that house."

"Except me, if I'm losing my mind." I said.

"And that's not happening. Go on, I need to get to work anyway. You go on home and calm yourself. I'll send my nephew by later this afternoon to check on you and make sure that all of your locks are working, how does that sound?"

"Tell him not to come in if I'm swinging on the chandelier and making noises like an ape." I said.

Ida herded me back out to my car and stood waving as I drove away. I wasn't looking forward to going home. I drove into town and bought a few groceries, went to the bank and the post office and killed as much time as I could but eventually I found myself driving to the house.

When I pulled into my parking spot, the house looked the same as always. Mid-morning sun lit up the porch and made the windows sparkle. It was a house where nothing fearful could exist.

I opened the front door and peered inside. Everything looked the same as usual. I entered and began walking down the hall toward the kitchen. As I did so, I glanced into the living room.