The Gallery For Ghosts

I have seen ghost since I was a baby. Well okay, maybe I can’t claim that. But I have seen them for as long as I can remember. So when I came face to face with one in the coffee shop, I shouldn’t have been surprised. But this one. He was different from the others.

Every spirit I had seen was a reflect of themselves at the age they thought they were in their prime. Occasionally I would see them appear at different ages depending on how they wanted to be perceived or how they thought you’d remember them. But this man. He was horrifying.

There was nothing soothing about him. He didn’t have the ease of a ghost existing. Instead he looked faded. Every time I blinked it looked like he was about to static out. And his eye was hanging from his socket, with his head caved in. Looking at him made my tummy lurch. But I drew him all the same.

The black charcoal eased against the parchment, as my hand glided into the grotesque curves of his head. I watched him and made slight glances at the page. Making sure I wasn’t too fair off. I never really was. I could have drawn him without even looking at the paper. Once they appeared, they needed to be drawn. I don’t know why, but my mind craved to ease the unseen forces into a median where I wasn’t the only one seeing them.

“That’s a little unsettling Lu.” My brother Sid slid into the booth with our coffees. I drew my eyes away from the ghost and looked at my brother. His hair was slicked back against his head to hide the fact that his hairline was slowly sliding back. I shrugged my shoulders and looked at it.

“Try seeing the real thing.” I take a sip of the coffee he put down in front of me. “this is yours” I wrinkle my nose at the overly sweet flavor that bursts up on my tongue. He rolls his eyes as he switches them. I go to look back at the ghost that was in the corner but he’s vanished. I sigh and close my sketch pad.

“You don’t need to draw them all.” Sid takes a swig of his coffee. But I shake my head. “I can’t help it. I feel like someone needs to keep a record of them. They don’t just show up here for no reason. I mean from all of the conversations I’ve had with grandma, there’s a lot of better place they could be. They come back for a reason.”

Sid doesn’t really understand it all. He’s never seen a ghost. And well he may deny it, I know he’s felt them. It’s hard not to. They bring a certain chill and static with them when they pass around. People usually say that feeling is just someone walking over your grave, but in reality it’s the dead walking by you. The living don’t really feel so big once you know how the dead feel.

I reopen the sketch book and look at the picture before me again. He just looks so different from the others. Like something from a horror movie. And as much as I know that not ever ghost wants to interact. And he’s disappeared for a reason. But I’m curious. Sid sighs, even he knows I’m dying to solve the mystery.

“Do you want to go to the library Lu?” He already knows the answer. “You can’t tell me your not a little bit curious.” I give him a grin. Sid would prefer that all the paranormal would stay in the movies. But he’s long given in to the fact that if he’s hanging out with me, it’s a losing battle. I grab my bag and bounce up from the table.

“Hey! I paid good money for that thing. At least finish it.” He shakes his head. I down the last of my cappuccino and shake my head, “Beats that mocha any morning.”

The library isn’t too far from the café. But the walk feels endless. I want to run but I’ve already rushed my brother through his coffee. I try to match his pace. How he walks so slow is beyond me. When the library doors come into site it takes everything in me to not bounce up the steps.

“Think Amiee will have a book?” Simon asks. I give him a grin. Amiee is the town’s only librarian, and despite the low budget, she always has something for me. She’s bent over a manuscript when we come in. Her wire rim glasses perched on her nose, with the green beading swooping delicately by her checks. Her hair’s a mix between the raven black it use to be, and the white it is becoming. I’m not sure how old Amiee is, she refuses to tell me. But she’s been at the library since before I was born, and is about the only other person besides Sid who knows what I see. When she finally glances up she raises an eyebrow.

“I know that look Lucilla Rosewood.” She has a tone to her. I stick my lip out in a mock pout. “Amieeeeeee, your no fun.” I whine to her. She nods her head and holds out her hand for my sketchbook. She seems to know where to go if she knows the ghost I’m looking for. She clicks her tongue when she sees it and closes the book.

“Don’t need a book for that one. It’s a shade. And you have no business searching it out.” Her southern drawl drags in revealing that she wasn’t born in this town. It comes out when she means business. I take my sketchbook back. I don’t know what a shade is.

“I just want to know why it looks like that.” I grumble. Amiee gives me another shake of her head, “I’m only telling you because I know you won’t give it a rest.” She pauses,

“Shades dwell in the shadows. They have trouble moving on because they weren’t ready to die, and often harbor unresolved trauma. They don’t go over to the other side and come back to visit. They’re stuck in between. They don’t know they can change themselves, which is why they look like that. They’re remembering the final form they ever existed in.” She simplifies.

“Okay so why don’t I have business with him then? Seems like he needs help more than your average ghost?” I press. But Amiee clicks her tongue again, “They can’t be helped Lu.”

I find myself frowning. I’ve never encountered a ghost that doesn’t want to be helped. Most of the time, they’re delighted. But the way Amiee is looking at me, I know she’s serious. If anything she looks scared.

“If you see it again, ignore it Lu.” Amiee warns. “I’ve been tell her that for years. Fat chance that’s going to happen.” Sid interjects. But Amiee throws him a look. She’s done talking about it. She hardly says good-bye as we leave.

“Well you out her in a mood.” Sid complains as we walk back to the truck. “I didn’t mean to.” I grumble as I kick a stray pebble on the sidewalk. If anything I’ve put myself in a mood. I was hoping that she’s give me something I could use. But she called it. I wanted to help.

“You know you don’t need to be like ghost whisper right?” Sid throws his arm across my shoulders in what I assume is suppose to be older brotherly affection. I roll my eyes. Seems pointless not to help if I can see them. I mean that’s what every book, show or podcast seems to be about. You have the gift you should help.”

Sid just lets out a chuckle, “Why don’t you make a gallery of your drawings. Maybe just putting them out there will give them some sense of peace. Then you can actually stop beating yourself up for once.

“You know that’s actually not a bad idea.” I let myself smile.

“This painting. It draws an emotion from me.” I hear a women tear up as she looks up at my painting of the shade. The women she’s with nods her head. I smile as I wonder through the gallery. Listening in on the conversations of both the living and the dead. Sid is standing behind the bar waiting for someone to wonder over for another drink. I spy Amiee by the picture of Grandma in her blue scarf. I wonder over to her. She gives me a once over.

“You know, your Grandma was the exact same.” She smiles. “How so?” I ask her, even though I know the answer.

“She went sticking her nose in others business too. But I suppose some good has come of it.” She shakes her head. I know she worries about me. But it’s been eight years since she warned me off of helping shades. I look over at the grandma she can’t see, and she smiles and winks at me, “Tell her to stop being such a worry wat.”

I can’t help but laugh a bit. “Your grandma lecturing me again?” Amiee seems to know. I nod my head. “Can you feel her?” I ask. Amiee turns and smiles at me. “I can hear her too.” She points to an empty space to the left wall.,

“I want mine there Lu. So you don’t forget to be careful with the gallery of your dead.” She gives me one last smile before she disappears. I try not to let myself start weeping in the gallery. Instead, I wonder towards the office. Finding my charcoal and pad, I let the shape take form before me. I don’t start crying until I look down and see Amiee’s smiling face. She didn’t really need me to draw her. But she’s helping me be the hero all the same. As she becomes another ghost in my gallery.