A Ghost in the Back of Your Mind

April could feel her face flushing, hot with frustration as the restaurant door closed behind her. Sure, she felt bad about leaving another blind date alone at a table, but she had already told René, more than once, that she wasn’t ready to start seeing anyone right now. After all, a year isn’t really that much time. Not enough time to forget about him.

Despite April’s protests, her friend still insisted on setting her up with seemingly every guy she could think of.

“He’s a doctor, hon. You’ll thank me when you’re vacationing in the Bahamas with him!”

As if I need someone else to take care of me, April thought.

April wrapped her scarf around tighter, and pulled her hood over her head, protecting herself from the wind and the sudden rain that seemed to rush down as if in response to her fleeing the scene.

Her date this time around had been a complete dud, a self-absorbed programmer who rambled on about how his app would be the ‘next big thing’, or something. Honestly, April had checked out about twenty minutes into his enthralling explanation about data compression algorithms. She was forced to sit in silence as he droned on, interrupting her anytime she’d attempt to join the one-sided conversation. Eventually, she fabricated an emergency phone call, and excused herself, handing him some cash to pay for her meal.

April tried to take deep, soothing breaths as she walked down the dimly lit street. She could feel hot tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes with each shaky breath. As she approached her car, she began fishing around in her bag, searching for her keys. In the fumbling, her finger-tips brushed past the notepad. Miles’ notepad.

He had always been incredibly forgetful, so Miles had carried this notepad with him everywhere. He’d jot down reminders for important dates, grocery lists, and anything else that he didn’t want to forget. One day she asked him why he had this compulsion. He laughed and told her, “Sometimes, I just feel like I have too many thoughts all at once, all competing for attention. If I don’t write, it all gets mixed up, and my brain just turns to mud.”

Occasionally, April would catch him smiling to himself while he scribbled in that beat-up notepad, with a transcendent gleam in his eyes. She always wondered what it was that he was smiling about, or what he was writing in those moments. She never asked, though. Miles was always an open book, but he deserved that bit of privacy. Besides that, seeing that smile, and that dream-like spark behind his bright blue eyes, always made her smile in turn. The flustered look on his face any time he caught her staring at him was a prize that exceeded ever knowing its contents. That notepad was like a doorway into a rich, hidden world that was all his own.

That’s why she had never opened it. That’s why she dared not open it, even now. Even after his body was found in that alley, a gunshot through his stomach, his face covered in bruises, and his wallet missing. But his notepad, with it’s corners bent, the brown leather cracking, and more than a few pages tearing away at the bookseam, the mugger had left Miles with that, at least.

Now, April had it in her bag. The mysterious portal into Miles’ world, and her last connection to him, was nestled neatly between her wallet and her makeup case.

April tossed her bag on the floor and collapsed onto her couch, begging the thick, soft cushions to absorb her. From the moment she left the restaurant, her thoughts had lingered on him. The notepad only served to compound those thoughts. For almost a year now, the same exact thoughts had persistently risen to the forefront of her mind.

Miles, smiling that damned smile.

His eyes, like the summer sky.

His body at the morgue.

His eyes, dull, and vacant.

April managed to force herself up from the couch, and shambled to the bathroom. She began wiping off her makeup.

I may as well try to get some sleep.

April peered into the mirror. Tired, red eyes stared back at her. Weary lines crossed her face. She had begun to resent her reflection. She remembered happy, hectic mornings, sharing this same mirror with Miles, in this small bathroom, each jostling each other out of the way to use the sink. All the while, making silly faces and laughing at each other. Now, it was just her. Just one set of eyes, broken and hollow.

Although, some days, for just moments at a time, April could swear that she saw Miles when she looked in the mirror, standing just behind her, towering over her as if protecting her. Of course that was always easily dismissed.

I’m just tired. It was just the light. I watch too many scary movies.

April finished brushing her teeth and glanced up one more time, preparing to lock eyes once more with that red-eyed husk she’d come to know. Those same red eyes suddenly shot open.

“Hey, beautiful.”

One set of tired eyes met one set of glistening blue.

In a panic, April wheeled around, flicked the lightswitch off, and slammed the door shut, pressing her back against it. Gasping for air, she allowed herself to slide down to the floor. She sat there, dazed, breathing still rapid, thoughts swirling. The old excuses wouldn’t work this time. She was certain of what she had seen. It was him. His eyes. His voice.

Once her breathing was more steady, she found the resolve to stand up. Thoughts still swirling, heart racing, April turned the doorknob. Slowly, she cracked the door open, its hinges making a sound like a shrieking bat. She closed her eyes, and tried to convince herself that it couldn’t be real. She flung the door open the rest of the way and opened her eyes wide, staring into the dark bathroom. She willed herself to reach for the lightswitch, her hand trembling. She flicked it on, and was blinded by the lights above the sink. In the mere seconds it took her eyes to adjust, April noticed several things. First, she could see a definite shape in the mirror, besides her own. Tall, broad-shouldered, and slim. After another second of adjusting, she recognized his clothes. The same drab green blazer he was wearing when he was shot. Finally, in focus, that smile. That broad grin that had taken up so much space in her mind over the past year, was now in front of her, blocked only by a pane of reflective glass.

April grasped desperately to find words. Any words.

Say something.

After several, achingly long seconds, the silence was broken.

“Uh, we’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty?”

April was stunned. She was torn between laughing and crying, and ended up bursting into a strange combination of both. She wanted to reach through that mirror and punch him in the arm.

“You actually came back from the dead, and the first thing you do is tell a stupid joke?”

“Of course not! The first thing I said was, ‘Hey, beautiful’.”

“You’re really such a dork.” April said between sobs.

Miles’ ghost glanced away, sheepishly.

“So. . .” April began, hesitantly, “So, how? And why now? Why did it take you so long to come back to me?” The tears overtook the laughter, and April could feel her face contorting as she began to weep openly.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ape. I’ve been. . . Lost. I’ve spent so much time wandering through a fog, not knowing where I was or where I was going. Sometimes, I would find a window like this one, and I could see you, but the window always closed as fast as it opened.”

“I thought I was going crazy,” April said, “Ever since you left, I’ve been seeing you in reflections, but you always vanished before . . .”

April shook her head.

I suppose this still doesn’t prove that I’m not crazy.

“But, this time the ‘window’ is staying ‘open’?” she asked, “Why?”

“I dunno. Maybe I just really really wanted to see you?”

“Shut up,” April laughed.

“It may sound weird, but considering that you are talking to a ghost, maybe not that weird. All I know is that I’ve missed you for a very long time, and suddenly this window opened and now here we are.”

“Here we are.”

They both stood silently for some time. April stared deeply into Mile’s eyes, and scanned every inch of his face, scared that this could be the last time again. She smiled, despite her worries. It was the first genuine smile she had had since his death. She felt a wave of peace wash over her, one that she had thought she would never feel again. Miles stared back at her, and a sudden look of realization appeared on his face.

“My notepad! Babe, do you still have it?”

“What? O-oh, yes, of course!”

“That’s a huge relief! It’s been driving me crazy, not being able to write things down.” He sighed.

April left the room and returned with the crumbling mess of pages that was The Notepad. She held it up to Miles.

“So, what’d you think of it?” Miles asked, glancing away. April could swear he was turning red.

Do ghosts blush?

“Oh,” April stuttered, “Actually, I haven’t even opened it. I thought that might be a bit invasive.”

“Oh, I see.” Miles chuckled, “You never asked me about it before, but I always assumed that you’d read it at some point. Or, that maybe I would read it to you…"

April paused, once more remembering all the times she’d caught him staring dreamy-eyed, scratching pencil against paper. He had written something in there for her?

“What . . What is it, Miles?”

Miles beamed like a kid showing off a crayon drawing. He appeared to take a deep breath, and released a slow, even exhale.

Do ghosts breathe?

“Memories.”

April blinked a few times.

“More specifically, my favorite memories of- uh, well, us.”

April stifled a laugh. “That’s really cheesy, honey.”

“Hey! Don’t be snarky. I’m bearing my soul to you here. Figuratively, and uh, sort of literally, I suppose.”

“I think it’s very sweet,” April said, pressing her hand against the mirror. Miles raised his hand and pressed it against hers. April only felt the cold glass, but she remembered perfectly how warm, and soft his hands were.

“Do- Do you want to read some of it now?” Miles asked.

“Yes.” she smiled, then paused. “First, we should do something about this,” April gestured around the bathroom.

“I think I have an idea. Do you have a hand-mirror or something?”

“Yes!”

April dashed out of the bathroom once more, and this time returned with her compact mirror from her makeup kit. It was a small, circular mirror that opened on a hinge.

“Will this work?” She held the makeup mirror towards the bathroom mirror.

“Yeah! It looks like another window is opening up.”

April watched as Miles walked past the edge of the bathroom mirror, disappearing from sight.

“Ta-da!”

April jumped a bit, and turned the compact mirror around to see Miles waving back at her.

April carried Miles into the living room where she plopped down onto the couch. She propped the compact mirror up on the top of the couch’s backrest so he would be about eye-level with her where she sat. She began carefully peeling open the notepad.

“Where should we start?” She asked.

April turned another page and stopped when she saw the words Bonfire on the Beach.

“Hey! The first time we met!”

“Yeah! That was that college graduation party. I remember I accidentally threw a rock at you.” Miles stifled an embarrassed chuckle.

“Yeah, how do you throw a rock accidentally?”

“I was aiming for Tim! He started it!” Miles laughed.

“Sure. I also remember that you almost fell into the fire that night, and your towel caught on fire!”

“Oh, yeah. Yikes. Maybe that was karma for the rock? I really liked that towel too.”

April and Miles continued like this late into the night. April would flip a couple pages until she found a Memory Page and then she would read it out loud to Miles and they’d laugh and reminisce, losing themselves in the memories. Reliving them.

The Memories all had titles at the top of each page like,

The Circus

Trivia Night

Meeting April’s Parents.

“Oh my god, you were so nervous! It was adorable.”

“It was terrifying! I was so worried about making a good impression on them, that I couldn’t stop rambling.”

“D’you ever think that the people who are most worried about making good first impressions are the ones who always make the worst first impressions?” April teased.

At some point, April must have fallen asleep. She found herself waking up on the couch the next morning, still wearing her clothes from the previous night. She stretched, yawned deeply, and rubbed her eyes. She slowly pushed herself into an upright position, and sat for a moment with her face buried in her hands, shaking her head. Her mind was still steeped in the haze of sleep, but the events of the previous night were beginning to creep back into focus. April began to slowly lift her head from her hands as these snapshots began flooding in. She suddenly jerked her head around and was half-shocked to find the compact mirror still balanced on the backrest of the couch. She scrambled, reaching out to grab the mirror. Her heart sank, though as she held it up to her face, to see only her own reflection staring back at her.

I didn’t imagine it, did I? No way. No way. He was here, I know it.

Frustrated, April clenched her fist around the mirror and drew her arm back, but before she could throw it, she heard that familiar, honey-sweet voice.

“Good morning, beautiful!”

She stopped and looked into the mirror again. Relief fell over her.

“Where’d you go? I thought I’d lost you again.”

“I’m sorry, Ape. After you fell asleep, I started wandering around a bit. It looks like the ‘windows’ for the bathroom mirror and your makeup mirror stayed open.” He beamed. For a second, she thought she’d caught a grimace on his face, but it was replaced by a smile almost as quickly as it had appeared.

April smiled, feeling a bit foolish, but comforted by Miles' presence. They shared another moment of tranquil silence when April suddenly jumped up from the couch.

“Crap! What time is it?” April hastily scanned the room, finding her phone on the coffee table.

“I’m late.” She said, darting into her room, phone in one hand, and the mirror in the other. She tossed both onto her bed as she began to strip off her dirty, slept-in clothes.

“Babe? What’s up?”

With a fresh pair of pants only halfway pulled up, April stopped. She glanced back at Miles on the bed as she pulled them up the rest of the way. She sauntered over to the bed and reached down to pick up her phone, smiling at Miles and offering him a wink as she did so.

“Hello?” started a voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Mark, it’s April. Can you tell Bill that I’m not going to make it to the office today? Something important came up. Thanks.”

April tapped the screen and tossed the phone back onto the bed.

“April, are you playing hooky?” Miles asked, feigning admonishment.

“What can I say? I guess you’re just a bad influence.”

Miles scoffed indignantly and flashed a wide, toothy grin at her.

April reclined onto the bed, and lifted Miles up to her face.

“So, I was thinking,” She said, “I had a lot of fun walking down memory lane last night."

Miles cocked an eyebrow.

“How would you like to see if we can recreate some of those memories for real?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Miles smirked.

“Hell yes, I am!” She giggled. She finished getting dressed and tossed her phone and the notepad into her bag, and gently dropped mirror-bound Miles in last.

A host in a button-up shirt approached April.

“Just one today?”

“Ah, yes,” April stammered, “Could we- I have a booth in the back?”

“Right this way.”

The host walked April through the restaurant, passing by a few tables of happy faces shoveling back pasta. It was a Mediterranean restaurant that Miles had taken her to, to celebrate their first anniversary. That all seemed like a lifetime ago, and yet she could picture it clear as day as the aroma of fresh garlic greeted her.

April took a seat, accepting a menu from the host. As he walked away, she reached into her bag, and discreetly retrieved the compact mirror, opening and setting it on the table in front of her. When the waiter arrived, April ordered for both herself and Miles.

“Jeez, I forgot how much I miss being able to eat,” Miles said, in a hushed voice.

“On the bright-side, at least you won’t have to smell my stinky garlic breath,” April chuckled.

“You can’t convince me that there’s anything bad about garlic breath; Everyone loves garlic!”

“Weirdo. Remember how we met up with everyone at the bar after our first date here? I think they would all strongly disagree with you.”

“Yeah, they did sit pretty far away from us that night.” Miles laughed, but his voice held an odd twinge to it, and April saw a pained look flash across his face, only for a moment.

April carried Miles as she walked down the street. In the past, they’d often take walks around town together, happy to just simply talk and enjoy each other’s company. April recalled, with amusement, one particular conversation in which Miles claimed to have had several encounters with ghosts throughout his life. She had never been the superstitious type, but the irony of their current situation was not lost on her.

They filled the rest of their day by consulting the Memory Pages, trying to recreate each one as closely as they were able, given the circumstances.

April couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed as much as she did that day.

“April. Honey?”

April’s eyes opened slowly the next morning. She had slept in bed this time, putting Miles on the pillow beside her. April rolled over, ready to greet him, but any joy she’d felt the day before vanished, and was replaced by panic.

“Miles! What’s going on?”

Miles stared back, wearing a frightened, weary expression.

“I’m sorry, April. I should have told you sooner.” He said, through gritted teeth.

April stared into Miles’ eyes, but they were no longer the sparkling pools of blue that she knew. They were dull, and vacant. They were the eyes of a corpse.

Miles stumbled backwards, revealing his lower-half in the mirror. A small, dark hole had appeared in his gut.

April ran to the bathroom and retched. As she emptied her stomach, Miles appeared next to her in the bathroom mirror.

“It hurts, Ape.”

April sputtered, searching for words and found none.

“It started the other day -- when we first reconnected. I thought I could brush it off, but it’s getting worse, babe. The longer I stay here -- the more it hurts.”

April collapsed onto the bathroom floor, breath shaky.

“I can only think of one way out of this --You have to burn the notepad.”

“What?” She managed.

“I think the notepad is what’s tethering us together -- Tethering me here.”

“No. No, I can’t. I won’t.” April felt her cheeks flushing, and her eyes burning. “You can’t ask me to do this -- It isn’t fair.”

“We have to let go, April. It’s time.”

“NO! You can’t just come back into my life, and then ask me to kill you! Or-or to throw away the last thing I have to remember you by. “ April’s voice cracked roughly around a lump in her throat.

“Honey. You've always been smarter than me. You never needed a notepad to remember me. The longer we try to hold on, the more it'll hurt.”

April slammed the door shut.

She somehow found herself driving on the freeway, traffic sparse this early. She had no destination, but she was speeding. Her thoughts were jumbled as she fought against the torrent welling up inside of her. April exited the freeway and began driving aimlessly through town, feeling more numb with every pointless turn.

An hour or more had passed when her thoughts finally started to clear. With a sudden alertness, she bolted upright. She found herself sitting in an empty parking lot. She didn’t recognize it at first, until she took a good look around. She saw familiar buildings to her left. To her right, she saw the lake.

The lake. The Bonfire on the Beach.

In her shocked, near-unconscious state, April had driven herself to the place where it all started.

She screamed.

All of the rage, indignation, and despair that she’d been holding back suddenly poured out. She had spent so much of the previous year policing her emotions, hiding them behind a barrier. That barrier had now snapped, and, for what seemed like the first time, she truly felt the weight of Miles’ passing. Immeasurably heavy, and intensely suffocating. She sat with that weight, the feeling seeping into every inch of her body. This was her pain. Her pain in the shape of Miles. She knew this weight would squeeze the life out of her if she did nothing.

“Miles. I know you’re here.” April spoke calmly. She reached out a trembling hand and turned her rear-view mirror towards her.

“Hey, babe.” Miles offered a bittersweet smile.

April found a clear spot on the beach and began to prepare the fire. She dug a small pit, and gathered some driftwood and dry twigs. She must have grabbed the compact mirror before she left the house, although she couldn’t remember doing so. She set it down on a nearby rock.

“It hurts.” She said, solemnly.

“I know.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too.”

“I guess I just always thought that we were meant to be together forever.” April breathed deeply as she arranged the wood in the firepit.

“ We were. We were meant to be together for exactly as long as we were meant for.”

“I love you so much, Miles.”

“I’ll love you forever, Ape.”

As the fire kicked to life, April picked up Miles and sat down in the sand. She reached into her bag and found the notepad. April and Miles locked eyes somberly before she tossed it into the fire.

There wasn’t much left to say, so April just sat there, looking into Miles’ eyes, and taking in the warmth of the fire. It was only a matter of time now and they both knew it. They shared this one last moment of silence. It was an empty silence, tense like a sword dangling by a hair.

Lengthy seconds ticked by as the flames grasped the pages of the notepad. Soon, there wasn’t much left of it. Black flecks of ash rose and dispersed into the air. The last thing to go was, of course, the leather cover, but even that was quickly being devoured.

This was it. If there was anything else to say, this was the time. April opened her mouth, sputtering to find words, and then the fire hissed sharply.

April found herself staring blankly at the mirror in her hand. One set of eyes staring back. Tired eyes. Tired, and yet. . . Serene. April blinked slowly as a timid smile crept onto her face. She gently closed her hand around the mirror, and felt it click shut.