The Ghost of Akron, Ohio

"But when I rose up on my elbow to turn around and look for him he was gone. I called out. But heard nothing. I listened for footsteps. There were none. I listened for a door to close. Surely a door would close. But the house was silent. So I hurried through every room, opened every closet and cabinet door going down through the house then back up to the attic where I was sure he'd be but he wasn't. I went down to the basement calling his name throughout the house, "Edward. Edward. Edward."

"I stopped in the basement. Though there was no sign of him I knew in that moment, that Halloween night, I wasn't alone and that I'd never be alone. I knew it and it happened. Two weeks later I confirmed it with a pregnancy test. That month there was no blood. No period. I was pregnant. I was going to be a mother."

I heard this story from Ariel on a dark night in late January, in my small office in the old church we converted into a mental health facility on Archwood Avenue. She looked happy and well kept. She even had a cherubic flush that suggested an innocence she'd somehow recaptured.

She all but stopped coming to see me except for once a year in early October. That first year, she told me she gave birth on the first day of August to a little girl she named Delilah. The next year she reported she gave birth to another little girl on that same day who she named Daphne, and again the next year Destiny was born on August 1st. She had two more girls Delphi and Divina in consecutive years. All born, she said, on August 1st.

During our visit after she'd described the birth of his last daughter Divina I had planned to question her and bring to light a truth I'd been withholding in the service of hearing her story.

But as she spoke her cheeks grew flush and animated, she possessed a vitality, an edginess, a keen hopefulness about life that left me in doubt of what I knew. She looked fresh and alive, as if she'd got a real foothold on life though her speech had the same kind of pressured incoherence I remembered.

"I'm doing much much better doctor. I earned a masters degree in environmental sciences at Ohio State last year and work part time on The Lake Erie Water Protection program. Isn't that great?"

I nodded and listened.

"I purchased Edward's old house with money I made selling real estate on the west side."

"You know doctor, I'm not married. Not officially anyway. Yet I have five daughters who are the pride and joy of my life. I've never had sex with another man since that night I told you about- the night I conceived Delilah. There's no need."

"I was only who I was back then because I was sure that sex would bring me the love I needed. It was dirty and ugly. I know. It almost destroyed me but it brought me to him. To my love, who has given me these children."

"Who is ..." I hesitated not wanting to invite a fabrication. "Who is HE?

"He's Edward," she said, "you knew that," and she let go a light hearted amused laugh as if the matter were well known and I just wasn't as informed as I should be.

"He's alive, but... You know he has to lay low because everyone thinks he's dead. So I meet him once a year at the corner of Lover and Inman. He's always in a different costume, usually a nemesis costume like Thanos or The Joker. We walk together through the cool night air to our home at Archwood and Kelly. We go upstairs. He undresses me. I get down on my hands and knees and he takes me just like he did that first time. And then nine months later on August 1st I give birth to a little girl."

Oddly, she blushed as if this was information inappropriate to be sharing. But then her face brightened and that blush turned to the flush of exhilaration.

"Every year, we conceive a child on that night. You know, doc, love and happiness are the simplest thing. All you need to do is believe in them and they're right there for you."

She stood up and extended her hand as if this would be our last meeting.

"Thank you for listening to me. No one has ever listened like you have. No one has ever believed in me like you have. That's made all the difference."

I nodded. "You're welcome," I said. "Thank you for telling me your story."

When she was gone I sat down and opened a window. The October night was cool and damp. Summer crickets still filled the air.

Something about our encounter felt genuine. As if she'd in fact healed. Yet I knew that almost everything she had described was fiction- a story that she had made up. The house at the corner of Archwood Avenue and Kelly had been purchased by a young couple and completely rebuilt three years ago. She lived with an Aunt who'd retired from Goodyear, who had a pension and social security income. Ariel worked part time in a day care center funded by the County Welfare board. She had no children.

My home is just a few blocks down the street on Archwood at Inman I'd seen Ariel walking alone that first Halloween night when she says she conceived her first daughter with Edward. She was incoherent, loud, shouting obscenities and then mumbling softly to herself. When I saw her sit in the middle of the street I called call the county mobile crisis team and they picked her up.

The next year I'd seen her again on Halloween night walking alone down Inman then heading east on my street towards Edward's old home. She appeared more stable this time. She stood more upright and walked on past my house quickly. She'd done this every year for the last four years and every year there was no nemesis, no Riddler on her arm. She was alone.

In her mind she wasn't. In her mind she had a husband who loved her dearly, who had conceived five lovely young daughters with her, daughters who also loved her dearly.

What kind of person would I be to inflict my truth upon her?