Emrys Wood had never thought much about death. At least, not until he was diagnosed with influenza.
Overall, Emrys was a healthy boy of sixteen. He regularly exercised and played sports with his friends, even in the dead of Victorian era winter. He didn’t smoke and he didn’t drink, save for the annual Christmas Eve cigar he shared with his father, grandfather, and uncle, and he ate like a boy his age should.
However, influenza was unpredictable and particularly aggressive in the early autumn of 1889, and unfortunately young Emrys was the disease’s chosen victim.
The first signs had shown themselves at the end of the summer, when Emrys had come down with a nasty fever. The cold sweats and hot flashes had kept him from sleeping for weeks, but his parents, Reuben and Louisa, had denied influenza as a possibility, claiming that their son was the picture of health and he couldn’t possibly be so ill.
The fevers came and went and when school started in September, Reuben and Louisa insisted that he attend. Emrys obeyed his parents, for he was the oldest of the Wood children and he mustn’t set a poor example.
However, the first of October came around and Emrys woke up in a cold sweat once again. His limbs felt heavy and his head possessed an ache like it never had before. Emrys’ lungs burned with an intense cough that felt as though it would rattle his bones out of his body.
Feeling so ill he could barely walk, Emrys rose out of bed before school and made his way to his Father’s study. He hesitated a moment at the door. Emrys had never had a particularly pleasant or easy relationship with his father.
Deciding that if he didn’t knock now he never would, Emrys wrapped his knuckles on the thick wooden door three times and waited for his father’s response.
“Come in,” came Reuben Wood’s husky voice.
Emrys swallowed heavily and pushed the door open. His father sat there, already dressed for the day in his perfectly pressed suit, his dark brown hair slicked back impeccably, at his enormous desk that really served no purpose to him. Reuben didn’t look up as Emrys entered, electing instead to keep his bespectacled eyes down at his book, likely another of his philosophical readings.
“Good morning, Father,” Emrys greeted, his voice scratchy from the itch that resided at the back of his throat. He attempted to cough discreetly, but it was no use. His father looked up at him with furrowed brows and a frown.
“What is it, boy?” Reuben asked gruffly.
“I’ve woken up this morning with another fever, Father. I feel quite ill, and you know I wouldn’t bring this up if I didn’t feel it was truly pressing, but I believe I should not attend school today,” Emrys tried to speak as confidently as he could despite how faint he felt.
“You mustn’t throw away your future simply because of a fever,” Reuben Wood said with a tone of finality and turned his eyes back to his book, his thick cigar hanging out of his mustachioed mouth. The patriarch of the Wood family smoked thrice daily, unwilling to acknowledge the impact that it had on his five children’s lungs.
“But Father,” Emrys protested. “What if I infect someone else? How would that reflect upon the family?”
Reuben’s frown deepened as he finally set his book down on the table and looked at Emrys, removing his glasses so he could rub annoyedly at his deep brown eyes. “And how do you think it would reflect upon the family if my eldest son missed a day of his precious education?” Reuben countered. “I work strenuous hours every single day to be able to afford you and your brothers’ schooling, and I will not have you throw it all away due to a fever. Do I make myself clear?”
Emrys’ felt his face heat up in anger, which didn’t help with his lightheadedness. “Father, with all due respect, I think my health and others are much more important than a day or two of school.”
Reuben’s mouth turned from a frown to a straight line, his eyebrows lowering in the way they only did when he was angry. “Son, I will not tell you again. You will attend school today and every day thereafter. You already disgrace this family being as sickly as you are, I will not have you further ruining us by taking your education for granted!” Reuben did not yell this, but his voice carried a resonance and firmness that made Emrys shiver. He knew there would be no arguing with his father, especially not after being called a “disgrace”.
Emrys sighed and looked down as he replied, “As you wish, Father,” and left the study.
The entire day of school, Emrys felt as though something was wrong, but he played it off as just his disappointment with himself about his father’s words.
Reuben Wood had never been a particularly warm and loving father, at least not outwardly. Emrys knew that, deep down, his father cared about him, but he had a hard time showing it.
Reuben Wood had grown up in one of the most wealthy families in all of Massachusetts. When he received his inheritance at the age of eighteen, following the death of his father, Reuben decided to use it to move himself and his childhood love, Louisa, to Cape Elizabeth, Maine, a coastal town where he could be free of his painful memories. He bought a grand beach house and married Louisa, but soon thereafter spent all of his inheritance and fell into bankruptcy. He managed to keep the beach house, due to getting a job at the clerk’s office in town, but it only barely kept them above water financially.
Emrys’ father carried much guilt for his inability to give his wife and children the life he’d had when he was young, and he worked tirelessly to do his best for them, but it meant that he was often irritable and closed off. Because of this, Emrys felt a duty to his father and mother, to be a good son and never disappoint them, for they’d already experienced much disappointment in life.
It was bad enough when he’d first gotten sick, but Emrys knew deep down that if he didn’t get better soon, death would be knocking on his door, waiting to take him. He knew his parents couldn’t take that worry onto their shoulders, though, so Emrys kept his suspicions to himself and lived in sickness.
On his walk home from school that day with his younger brothers, Ralph, Francis, and George, Emrys began to feel faint once again. The four brothers made it to their street, and Emrys could see his house, but it was no use. His lungs refused to take in any more air and his legs refused to walk any further, and Emrys crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Ralph, the second oldest at thirteen years old, immediately dropped to his older brother’s side, yelling at Francis and George to run back to town and get their father.
By the time Francis and George returned with Reuben, twenty minutes had passed and Emrys still hadn’t woken up. Ralph, wishing to stay strong for his younger siblings, held back tears as he watched the light leave his father’s eyes when he looked down at Emrys, realizing in that moment that his brother may never awaken.
***
Emrys woke to the sound of crying.
When the dark-haired boy opened his eyes, his gaze met the ceiling of the room he shared with his brother Ralph. It was dark, and when he glanced out the window next to his bed he could see moonlight coming in through the sheer curtain, so he knew it must be the middle of the night.
Hearing the sound of a soft cry once again, Emrys sat up and looked around the room, wondering who would be crying in the middle of the night.
Emrys turned to his right and saw his mother sitting in a chair next to his bed, her head in her hands as she sobbed. Confusion swelled in the boy's mind as he spoke in the dark.
“Mother? Why do you cry?” Emrys’ voice felt far away from his own lips, but he assumed that was because he’d been unconscious for hours at that point.
However, Emrys’ mother didn’t look up at him.
Perplexed, Emrys spoke again. “Mother, look at me. I’m right here.” The boy placed his hand on his mother’s shoulder, only it didn’t land there, instead it went through her body, as if she wasn’t even there.
Or, perhaps, Emrys was the one who wasn’t there.
Standing in a panic, Emrys began to pace his room, glancing over at his bed and finding his body laying there, still asleep. It felt as though all of the air had been knocked out of his lungs as Emrys stood over his sleeping body, inspecting his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes that were just visible enough in the moonlight.
Emrys knelt down beside his mother, who was still crying, and tried to shake her. He yelled and screamed and sobbed, attempting to speak to her, but it was no use.
Spiraling, Emrys turned to see if Ralph was in his bed, but he wasn’t. Emrys ran from his room and down the hall of his house to his younger brother’s room, where Francis and George slept.
“Francis! George! Wake up!” Emrys pleaded, his voice breaking. “Please, I’m here!” He said.
When neither of his younger brothers woke up to his voice, Emrys ran to his little sister, Adelaide’s. room, where he found Ralph sleeping in the bed with her.
“Della! Ralphie! Please wake up!” Emrys cried, sinking to his knees on the floor. “Please…”
Emrys had no idea how long he knelt there, on the floor of his baby sister’s room, before he decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He ran from the room, down the stairs, through the sitting room, and out the front door. However, he didn’t expect the ghosts.
A scream escaped Emrys’ lips as a woman dressed in eighteenth century clothing passed in front of him, looking at him sympathetically.
Ghosts were everywhere. Men, women, children, cats and dogs, walked the streets of his neighborhood like they’d lived there their whole lives, and perhaps they had.
Unable to comprehend what he was seeing, Emrys ran to the beach.
***
Poor, ghostly Emrys had been crying in the company of the ocean for an hour by the time she showed up.
When her hand pressed to his back Emrys felt her warmth, thinking that perhaps he wasn’t a ghost after all and it had all been a dream. But when he looked to his left and saw the girl— hair a translucent red and eyes silvery like the moon, dressed in a light blue nightgown— his heart sank in disappointment.
“I’ve always loved the ocean,” was all the girl said, closing her eyes and allowing the sea breeze to, somehow, ruffle her wavy hair.
Emrys looked at her in confusion. “As have I,” he said hesitantly.
The girl— who Emrys now realized was quite beautiful— looked over at him with a soft smile. “My name is Loretta Baker,” she said, holding her hand out for him to take. Emrys did, pressing a kiss to the back of it, as was proper for a young gentleman. Loretta blushed.
“Hello, Loretta,” he said, sniffling, now embarrassed by the fact that he’d shed tears in front of this girl.
Loretta scrunched her nose. “Actually, you can call me Etta. My full name sounds too proper from your lips,” she said.
“Alright then,” Emrys said. “Hello, Etta. My name is Emrys Wood.”
Etta smiled once more. “That’s much better. Lovely night, isn’t it, Emerys?”
Emrys nodded. Something about Etta intrigued him, he felt drawn to her in a way he was unable to explain. “Are we ghosts?” He asked her.
Etta hummed quietly. “I am a ghost,” she answered, and Emrys frowned.
“Well, what am I?” He asked.
“You’re not a ghost, but you’re not quite one of the living either.”
“What does that mean?” Emrys asked, only growing more confused by the girl’s answers.
“On rare occasions, when one of the living falls into a comatose state of mind, they can gain the ability to communicate with ghosts,” Etta explained.
Emrys frowned, looking down and dragging his foot, which he just realized was bare, in the sand. “So, you mean to say that I’m…in a coma?”
Etta nodded. “Precisely.”
“Will I wake up?” The boy asked, hopeful.
The ghostly girl frowned. “Sometimes the living wake up and stay living for many years, sometimes they never awaken. Sometimes they wake up for one day only. There is no rhyme or reason to why one person lives and one doesn’t, and I have no way to know if you will live or die. I’m sorry, Emrys.”
Emrys shook his head. “It’s alright, Etta. I suppose I was hoping ghosts knew all about life and death.”
Etta smiled warmly. “I’m afraid I only know as much as time decides to tell me.”
***
So, Emrys was neither one of the living nor a ghost, for he simply existed. Or perhaps he didn’t exist at all.
October 1889 was the most melancholically lovely time of Emrys Wood’s life.
Emrys was pleased to find out that, as somewhat of a ghost, he never felt pain. He never felt hunger or thirst or exhaustion. He could simply exist.
After the night by the ocean, Emrys spent all of his time with Etta, who was perfectly happy to have him around, for she had so much room in her heart for someone to love.
Just a week after the two kids met, Etta introduced Emrys to her family.
“Your entire family is dead too?” Emrys asked, perhaps quite tactlessly, but Etta didn’t seem to be offended.
The red-haired ghost simply smiled and said, “You’ll understand in a moment.”
Etta and Emrys flew through the streets of Cape Elizabeth, coming to the backyard of a small, quaint house. There was a large tree in the yard, and Emrys almost didn’t see the treehouse in it until Etta flew the two of them inside.
The treehouse was mostly empty and looked as though no one had been inside in years. There was an old, dusty blanket in the middle of the floor, a stuffed teddy bear, wooden blocks, and a toy train atop the blanket.
“Loretta! There you are, we were wondering if you were going to make it,” a male ghost who was dressed in an army uniform and missing an arm said cheerfully. Emrys’ eyes widened at the sight of the man.
Emrys looked at the other two ghosts sitting in the treehouse, a blonde woman with kind eyes and a little boy who, for some reason, broke Emrys’ heart.
“Hello, Charles. I’d like the three of you to meet my new friend, Emrys,” Etta introduced him and he stuck out his hand for the man, Charles, to shake.
“Nice to meet you, kid. I’m Charles Brinket,” Charles introduced himself, catching Emrys staring at his missing arm. “Ah, the missing arm does shock most people,” Charles joked, raising what was left of the limb. “Lost it in battle twenty-five years ago, during my time with the Union army. I was twenty-seven when that damn canon killed me,” Charles explained, a scowl on his face.
Emrys’ eyes widened in shock, feeling a touch bombarded by the information. “I’m…sorry for your loss?” He said, regret immediately settling in. The boy was still unsure of how to respond to the stories ghosts told about their deaths.
To Emrys’ relief, Charles let out a hefty laugh. “Loretta, where’d you find this kid?”
Etta smiled, looking at Emrys fondly. “By the ocean,” she answered quite matter-of-factly.
“Oh! You probably want to meet these two, don’t you kid?” Charles asked, moving to the side so that Emrys could greet the woman and child.
Emrys extended his hand to the woman, but she embraced him with a hug instead, catching him by surprise. When she pulled back she kept her hands on his shoulders, looking him over. The woman looked over Emrys’ shoulder at Etta with a smile. “He’s very handsome, Loretta.”
Emrys turned red and looked over at Etta, who was also blushing, although she made it look much better than Emrys did.
“Oh, I’m sorry darling,” the blonde woman said, removing her hands from Emrys’ shoulders and taking a step back. “My name is Nora Garrison. It’s nice to meet you, Emrys,” Nora introduced herself, gesturing for Etta and Emrys to sit.
Emrys ended up across from the little boy, who looked at him tentatively. He was a shy boy, and he mostly kept to himself, save for when he was around Charles, Nora, or Etta.
“Oliver, this is Emrys. You needn’t be frightened, he’s very kind,” Etta spoke to the boy, Oliver, very gently, much like how she’d spoken to Emrys on the night they’d met.
Emrys smiled at the boy. “Hello, Oliver,” he said, waving at him instead of extending his arm for a handshake.
Oliver waved back, a small smile cracking on his lips. “You can call me Ollie, if you want,” he said shyly, leaning into Charles’ side to hide his face.
“Ollie it is, then,” Emrys replied kindly.
“This was Ollie’s treehouse,” Etta said with a smile, and Ollie nodded.
“Yes! It was a gift for my tenth birthday. I was so excited, but I only had a few months to play in it while I was living before I got smallpox. I was red like a tomato until the day I died…” Ollie said, a playful pout on his face.
Emrys felt like his heart broke in two at what he heard. The poor little boy had only lived to be ten years old, taken much too early. Ollie was the same age as Emrys’ brother Francis, and suddenly death was something that was much too real.
“Did you have any siblings?” Emrys asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
Ollie nodded. “Yes, I had a little brother, but he’s forty-six now. He and our parents moved to Oregon after I died, they kept looking out at the treehouse and getting sad.” Emrys’ eyebrows rose high on his forehead as he realized that Ollie had been dead for what was likely forty years.
“Why didn’t you go with them?” Emrys asked.
Ollie frowned. “I can’t go that far. Ghosts are confined to the areas where they traveled when they were alive, which means I can’t leave Cape Elizabeth.”
Emrys’ heart sank, worried he’d made the little boy upset. “Oh, I apologize, Ollie. I didn’t know–”
“It’s alright. I’m used to it by now, and I like it here anyway. I have Charles and Nora and Loretta, and they’re like my family,” Ollie said. Charles smiled and hugged the little boy.
“Charles and I were both parents when we died,” Nora said, a wistful look in her eye. “I died in childbirth, but I’d already had a daughter. The baby died too, a boy, but babies don’t become ghosts.”
There was that awful, aching pain in Emrys’ chest again. It felt like empathy, but a thousand times stronger, like his sadness for the woman would rip his heart apart and bleed onto the floor.
“I’m so sorry, Nora,” Emrys said.
Nora smiled, the corners of her eyes wrinkling. “Oh, it’s no bother. I care for Ollie like a son now. Besides, my daughter is grown now and married, and my husband is still living as well. Their lives were very difficult, for a while, but they’ve turned out well.”
Emrys admired Nora for the strength it must have taken to get to the point where she could accept that her living family was alright without her. He imagined that it would take him years to accept such a thing if he died.
“You had a child too, Charles?” Emrys asked, curious now with how the group had come to know each other.
“Yes I did, and boy do I love that kid,” Charles replied. “He’s not a kid anymore, I suppose, being thirty years old now. I remember he was so disappointed when I had to go to war, but I promised I’d be back for him. I carry the guilt for not returning to this day. But little Ollie here needed a daddy, so here I am. And it certainly doesn’t hurt that Nora here is so beautiful,” he teased.
Nora rolled her eyes but blushed nonetheless. “Oh, don’t butter me up you buffoon. At least not in front of the children,” she said.
“Alright, alright,” Charles conceded.
“So, Emrys,” Ollie began. “How did you die?” he asked.
Emrys swallowed heavily, unsure of how to respond.
“Well, Ollie, Emrys is not dead yet. He’s in comatose, between death and life,” Etta answered. Emrys looked at her gratefully and she smiled at him, placing a comforting hand on his leg and squeezing lightly.
Ollie’s jaw hung open in surprise. “Wow, I haven’t met someone like that in twenty years,” he said, seeming amazed. “How long have you been…like this?” He asked.
“A week,” Emrys answered.
“A week?” Ollie, Nora, and Charles asked at the same time.
Emrys looked between the four ghosts with furrowed brows. “What?” He asked, unaware of what he’d said wrong.
“Well, dear, it’s only that usually the living would pass away by now,” Nora said tentatively, not wishing to scare Emrys.
Her attempts proved unsuccessful and Emrys began to panic. “What do you mean? Are you saying I’m going to die? I can’t die, I have to make it back to my siblings, my mother—”
Etta gently took Emrys’ hand in hers, looking him in the eyes. “Emrys, breathe. This is out of your control right now. You may still wake up, and if you don’t, you can spend your days with us.”
Emrys shook his head, unable to accept that he may die. “I need a moment,” he said, flying out of the treehouse and going to lay in the lawn.
The grass was thick and massively overgrown, and it was then that Emrys realized the house had been abandoned. It must not have sold after Ollie’s family left.
Ollie, Nora, and Charles were a bit startled by Emrys’ abrupt exit, but Etta stayed perfectly calm. For some reason, she felt that Emrys needed her, for some reason or another. So, she followed him outside and sat beside him in the overgrown grass, observing him.
His luminous cheeks were flushed, his eyes wide and as wild as the thoughts that Etta assumed were racing through his head. He refused to look at her, which Etta didn’t mind. She remembered how she had felt when she had died.
“It took me five years to accept my fate,” Etta spoke, even if Emrys didn’t wish to listen. He did, however, glance toward her, as he felt an uncontrollable pull toward her, like he had to look at her, or he would miss something important.
“I had such a loving family,” Etta continued. “They were my whole world, especially my older brother. When I realized I had died, not only did I wish I hadn’t been so stupid, but I wished I could speak to them one last time, to at least tell them I loved them. It took me five years to realize that I didn’t need to say the words for them to know that I had adored them all the days of my life.”
Emrys exhaled deeply. “How did you…” he started, unsure if Etta wished to tell the story of her death.
Etta looked at him and smiled sadly. “That’s a story for another day, Emrys,” she said, and Emrys was silent.
Looking up into the night sky, Emrys’ gaze landed on the moon. He observed the tremendous rock and marveled at its’ simplistic beauty. He thought that if he had to die, he would rather be something like the moon instead of a ghost.
“My entire life I’ve been the one who must be strong,” Emrys whispered into the night. Etta listened intently. “I’m the oldest, or was, if I’m dead now, and my younger siblings needed me to be their leader. My father works all the time, and my mother is so busy taking care of everyone that there was no one to teach them things, at least until my father could afford to send us to school. I couldn’t let anyone see me struggle, because it would only add to my parents’ stress and more instability to my siblings’ lives.”
Etta frowned empathetically from where she sat next to Emrys’ reclined frame. On instinct, she placed her hand in his ghostly dark hair and began to comb her fingers through it.
Warmth spread through Emrys’ body at Etta’s touch, the kind of warmth that was comforting and nurturing. The kind of warmth that came from knowing a person cared for you.
“I guess I’m so scared of death because I worry that my family will fall apart if I’m not there to hold them together,” Emrys explained. “Doesn’t that seem so conceited?”
Etta hummed, shaking her head. “No, darling, that isn’t conceited, it is immensely caring and thoughtful.”
Emrys sat up, pivoting his body to look at Etta face to face. “Do you truly think so?” He asked.
Etta smiled at the boy and nodded. “I do,” she answered. There was such palpable emotion spilling from her that Emrys thought he might choke on her empathy and understanding.
A cloud must have moved in the sky then, as moonlight filled Etta’s eyes, and for a moment Emrys might have likened them to diamonds, or perhaps the glittering of ocean waves at night.
“I hope you don’t mistake my meaning when I say this,” Emrys began to speak before he could stop himself. It was as though he wasn’t in control of his own speech, like fate was speaking for him. “I feel so…drawn to you, Etta. It’s as though there is no one more important to me at this time than you.”
Emrys watched as Etta blushed and looked down at her hands. He reached out and took one, enclosing it in both of his.
“I’ve felt similarly for this entire week. There’s something between us, only, I’m unsure of what it is,” Etta replied.
Emrys brought his free hand to Etta’s chin and tilted her head back up so he could look into her eyes once more. Etta’s eyes darted between Emrys’ as she wondered what he would say next, and what it could mean in the grand scheme of everything.
“If I may, I have a guess as to what it might be,” Emrys said, just before he leaned in and softly pressed his lips against Etta’s.
Neither Emrys nor Etta had never kissed anyone before, but as far as they knew, this was about as good as a first kiss could be. It was gentle and kind and understanding, and there was something about it that left the two of them with a sense of comfort.
It was also brief, as it seemed both children were a bit embarrassed of their affection for one another. Their cheeks burned red as they looked away from each other, each wondering what the other was thinking.
“I hope that means you won’t be terribly disappointed if you don’t wake up,” Etta whispered, causing Emrys to look at her once more.
The boy smiled at the girl and brought her hand, which was still in his, to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.
“If I must die, it would be a pleasure to spend eternity with you, Miss Baker.”
***
It was two weeks after Emrys began to walk the line between life and death when he finally decided to return to his house.
The house looked the same as it always had. It was grand, but not as big as the mansions on the other side of town, for the beach-front houses in Cape Elizabeth were a bit smaller, albeit no less elegant. The estate was not gated, unless the small gate in the white picket fence counted. The house itself was made of dark brick and had two stories, the top for bedrooms and Emrys’ father’s office, and the bottom for communal rooms, the kitchen, and the dining room. At the back of the house was a grand porch with a rocking chair and a staircase leading down to the beach. Emrys had many memories of being rocked to sleep by his mother in that very rocking chair, and he wondered if he would ever get the chance to sit in it again.
“Well, this is where I live,” Emrys said to Etta, who had come with him. The two had been inseparable since the night in the backyard of little Ollie’s house, the night they’d shared their first kiss.
“It’s a lovely house, Emrys,” Etta said kindly, squeezing his hand which held hers. The two kids had become rather comfortable with one another, feeling as though they’d known each other for a lifetime despite only having met a mere couple of weeks before.
Emrys led Etta through the front door and gave her a small tour of the house he grew up in. He told her stories of the games he would play with his siblings in the family room, he told of his favorite meals to eat in the dining room, and the wonderful smells that always came from the kitchen when his mother cooked.
When he led her to the second floor, he told her how he remembered each of his siblings being born in his parents’ room, and how those four days of his life were ones he would never forget. He told her of all the times that his father had scolded him in his office, but he left out the one from the day he’d gone comatose, for it was too painful to recall.
The two souls reached Emrys’ room, which was empty, although the chair his mother had sat in the night Emrys gained his almost ghostly appearance was still there.
As was his still sleeping body.
Emrys and Etta floated over to the bed and looked down at Emrys’ sleeping form, and a sort of melancholic acceptance came over the boy. He realized that he looked peaceful, and he decided that if he died, he would try not to be too put out by it.
“You look so handsome with color in your cheeks,” Etta whispered, brushing the back of her index finger on the sleeping Emrys’ cheek. “It’s been so long that I’ve nearly forgotten what I looked like while I was alive. I only know this version of myself, this version that seems so bleak.”
The ghost of Emrys wrapped his arm around Etta, comforting the girl as she shared something he feared many ghosts struggled with. He felt that strong empathy again, the kind that made him want to rip his heart out of his chest— if he even still had one— and hand it to Etta so she could see how much it ached on her behalf.
The two of them decided to sit on Ralph’s bed across the room, since Emrys’ brother was still not sleeping there. Emrys guessed that it was because his mother didn’t want Ralph being the first one to find out Emrys died, and he supposed he appreciated that. So much responsibility was already going to fall on his younger brother’s shoulders, the boy didn’t need the memory of discovering Emrys dead too.
“Do you ever think about what your life would have been like if you hadn’t died?” Emrys asked Etta, who looked at him with a kind but sad sort of smile. The look was enough for Emrys to infer her answer.
“I think about it every day,” Etta replied. Emrys sat quietly as she spoke, listening intently to her words, almost as though he was preparing to one day relate to them. “I would have turned twenty-eight this year. I imagine I would be married by now, with a few children, and perhaps a cat. Sometimes I wonder if I would have left Cape Elizabeth, but I loved it here too much to have done so, and I could never leave my brother.”
Emrys knew at that moment that she was not ready to talk about her beloved brother, so he didn’t ask her to. He simply sat there with her, their hands still entwined, and took in the night.
The two children were startled when Emrys’ bedroom door began to creep open. Etta looked at Emrys as he watched the door open with wide eyes. His first thought was that his mother had come to check in on him, but he was surprised to see his baby sister, Della, enter the room.
Emrys’ jaw dropped as his four year old sister entered his room, and instead of walking over to where Emrys’ body lay in bed, she turned and looked directly at him and Etta, a little smile appearing on her face.
“Hello, Emmy,” Della whispered, walking toward the two of them.
Etta, whom until that moment Emrys had only seen stay calm in every situation, began sputtering incoherently, obviously quite shocked that the little girl was speaking to them.
“Della, can you see us?” Emrys asked, perhaps stupidly. He had heard tales of small children having the ability to see ghosts, but he had never much believed it.
Della nodded in response. “Who’s that?” She asked, pointing to Etta, who had seemed to finally calm herself.
Emrys smiled warmly at his baby sister. “This is my friend, Etta. She’s very kind. Would you like to say hello?” He asked.
Etta smiled at Della and introduced herself first. “Hello, Della. It is lovely to meet you,” she said kindly, sitting forward on the bed.
Della smiled shyly, coming to stand at the edge of the bed, near where Emrys sat. “Hello,” she whispered.
Emrys looked down at his little sister and attempted to place his hand on her back before he realized that he could no longer do that, as she was living and he was walking the line between life and death.
“Why are you up so late, Della? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Emrys asked, although he knew the answer. Della frequently woke up in the middle of the night and came to his room to be with him and Ralph, usually because she had gotten a nightmare and was frightened. Ever since she learned how to use a doorknob she would do so, and Emrys had gotten so used to it that he had begun to take it for granted. It was one of the many things he would miss about his life, if he were to die eventually.
“I had a dream about you,” Della said. “I had a dream that you woke up, and I wanted to see if I was right.”
Crystalline tears welled in Emrys’ eyes at his baby sister’s words, and he felt Etta squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry, Della.”
The little girl frowned, although it seemed to be moreso out of frustration than sadness. “Are you going to wake up, Emmy?”
A single tear slipped down Emrys’ cheek as he replied, “I do not know, Della.”
Della’s frown deepened. “Well, you have to wake up. Daddy misses you.”
Perplexed, Emrys furrowed his brows. “What do you mean, Della?”
“Daddy talks about you all the time. He skips work to sit in here with you,” the little girl said simply, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Almost as though she had summoned him, Reuben Wood walked through Emrys’ door at that exact moment, startled to see his youngest child in the room.
“Adelaide, what are you doing awake?” Reuben asked, his voice sad. Emrys felt paralyzed with shock as he looked upon his father’s face.
He looked terrible. His beard had grown out longer than Emrys had ever seen it, and it looked as though his father was not keeping it groomed. There were dark circles underneath his eyes and his skin looked sallow, as though he had not seen sunlight in ages.
Where Reuben Wood usually carried an air of confidence wherever he went, on this night he looked like a completely different person. There was a cloud of inconsolable sadness that seemed to follow him into the room.
“I’m talking to Emmy,” Della said as Reuben picked her up.
The little girl’s words startled Reuben and his head whipped toward the bed where Emrys lay, his shoulders dropping in disappointment when he saw that his eldest son still had not woken up.
“What are you talking about, Adelaide?” Reuben asked cautiously.
“I’m talking to Emmy. He’s right there,” Della spoke with the simplicity of any child her age as she pointed directly at Emrys’ ghostly form.
Reuben followed his youngest child’s finger, but his gaze fell only upon Ralph’s empty bed, unable to see his eldest son.
The man sighed, sadness seeping from his body so heavily that Emrys could feel it choking him.
“Come on Adelaide, let’s get you to bed,” Reuben said, leaving the room with little Della in his arms.
Emrys cried in Etta’s arms that night as he realized that he really, truly did not want to die.
***
Three weeks into Emrys’ coma, Etta took him to meet her brother.
The two children flew hand in hand through the streets of Cape Elizabeth, toward Etta’s brother’s home. The estate was gated and a gravel path led the way to a three-story house made out of pale brick. There were enormous windows on each side of the large double doors, one through which you could see the dining room, the other through which you could see the sitting room.
“This is where he lives,” Etta said as the two of them made themselves comfortable before one of the large front windows. From where they sat, they could see directly into the sitting room, where a man who looked like an adult version of Etta and a beautiful blonde woman sat on the floor with three children, playing and entertaining each other.
“My brother, Harvey, was seventeen when I passed away,” Etta said, and Emrys looked over at her as he realized she was about to tell him the story of her death. She looked sullen, although it was clear she tried to hide it. “I was fifteen. Well, I still am, I suppose. I woke up in the middle of the night in July, 1876, and wanted to go up on the roof of our house to see the comets. Harvey said we should be sleeping, but I persisted. I dragged him out of bed and up to the roof. It wasn’t long before I made the stupid decision to sit at the very edge of the roof.” Etta grew quiet, looking in on her, now adult, brother with a great sense of sadness.
“Did you…” Emrys began to ask, but he paused, instead allowing Etta to finish on her own.
“I fell three stories to my death that night. Harvey tried to save me, but it was too late. My soul left my body and I watched him cry over me, begging me to wake up. He’s never been the same since that night, thirteen years ago,” Etta finished, a single tear finally rolling down her cheek.
“Oh, Etta,” Emrys whispered.
Etta wiped the tear away and smiled, willing the pain away. “He’s doing better now. He married someone we’ve both known since we were young. Eliza is perfect for him,” she said, pointing to the blonde woman, who was smiling at her children. “And they had three little boys, Laurel, Louis, and Lorenzo. Harvey and Eliza gave them L names…” Etta trailed off as her voice broke.
“Because of your name, right? Loretta?” Emrys asked.
Etta nodded, leaning her head on Emrys’ shoulder as she continued to speak. “Yes, that’s right. I believe there’s a part of me that wishes they would have a daughter, because I know my brother would name her after me. I wish to be part of his life again, and perhaps I could, through a niece. But then I begin to think about how terribly sad that would make me, Harvey having a different Loretta to care about. I don’t want him to forget about me.”
Emrys wrapped his arm around Etta in a gesture of comfort, hoping she could feel his empathy for her. Since he began simply existing, Emrys felt much more than he had when he was alive. When he felt sad, he was devastated; when he felt happy, he was elated; when he felt empathy, he took on the feelings of the other person, feeling them as though they were his own, soul-crushing emotions.
This is what he felt for Etta at that moment.
“Were you and Harvey close?” Emrys asked curiously.
Etta smiled widely, a genuine, full smile, not one to hide her pain. “Oh yes, Emrys. We were ever so close. I looked up to Harvey more than my own parents, and he adored me as much as any brother can adore their baby sister. My parents almost named me Belle because that’s what he wanted my name to be. He was so excited for my birth, and my heart breaks every time I think about how I only got to be his sister for fifteen years. I hope he knows I’m still here, watching over him,” she said.
An odd idea made its way into Emrys’ head then, and he flew through the window of the house toward Harvey, circling around his head a few times, hoping to create a small breeze before flying back out to join Etta once more.
“Emrys! What have you don–” Etta started, but paused when she saw that Harvey was looking directly at them through the window, his brow furrowed.
“Wave to him,” Emrys told Etta, and she did so.
As Etta waved her hand at her brother, time seemed to have mercy on the siblings. Harvey’s eyes opened for the first time in thirteen years as he looked at the face of his sister, just as he remembered her from the night she died.
Harvey rushed to the window and opened it, tears welling in his eyes and he came face to face with his baby sister. “Etta,” he whispered in disbelief. “Is it you?” He asked, reaching his hand out toward Etta. Emrys realized that, at least to his knowledge, Harvey was the only other person who didn’t call Etta by her full name.
Etta reached her hand out and placed it against her brother’s, and although neither one of them could physically feel it, they knew, without a doubt, that the other was there.
“It’s me, Harvey. I’m here. I’ve always been here,” Etta said, tears rolling down her crystalline cheeks.
That night, Emrys learned what it truly meant to be a ghost.
***
The early morning of October thirty-first was when Emrys Wood finally realized what it meant to be alive.
He and Etta were sitting on the floor of his bedroom once again, and Emrys was finally beginning to accept the fact that he may never awaken.
Etta smiled at the boy, her features soft and full of love as her gaze fixed on him. “You’ve become very important to me,” she said in a whisper, bringing her hand up to trace the curve of his brow. “I feel as though I’ve memorized your face.”
Emrys placed his hand on hers and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingertips. “Already? We have our entire existence for you to do that.”
“You may be right, but I wish to admire you now,” Etta said, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on Emrys’ lips. Emrys smiled into the kiss and cupped Etta’s cheek, feeling close to her in that moment.
Something about the red-haired ghost made Emrys feel like he would never be lonely again.
As the sun began to come up and the light from the window streamed into the room, Emrys began to feel unusual. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever felt before, and it could only be described as fading.
It felt like he was fading.
“Emrys…what’s happening to you?” Etta asked in a voice that sounded frightened. Emrys looked down at his hands and noticed that his ghostly form was indeed fading, like he was about to become invisible.
“I’m not sure,” Emrys replied in a panicked tone.
The two of them looked at each other for a few moments before realization came over Etta. She looked over at Emrys’ body on the bed. “You’re waking up…” she said.
Emrys didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. The entire time he’d walked the line between life and death, he’d hoped he would wake up. But now, as the very real possibility that he would never see Etta again arose, he wasn’t so sure if he wanted to.
“But what if I never see you again?” Emrys asked, his eyes pricking with tears. He was so very conflicted, unsure if he was relieved or devastated by the fact that he was awaking from his comatose state.
Etta brought her hands to Emrys’ face, gently cupping his cheeks. “If we never meet again, I will treasure the time we’ve had together every day for the rest of my existence. But, my darling, it’s time for you to wake up,” Etta said softly, wiping away Emrys’ tears with her thumbs as she spoke, and placed a soft, goodbye kiss upon his lips.
Emrys felt an indescribable sadness as he savored what could quite possibly be his last moment with the ghostly girl he’d fallen in love with.
***
Emrys awoke on the morning of October thirty-first to the feeling of the sun on his face. He blinked away the sleep in his eyes and yawned, positively exhausted despite having been asleep for a month.
He sat up in his bed and was pleased to find that many of the symptoms of his influenza were gone, all that lingered was a slight tickle in the back of his throat, reminding him that he had once been sick, but allowing him to be grateful for his health.
Emrys felt incredibly disoriented, feeling as though he was forgetting something. He looked around the room, feeling as though someone was there, but when he looked over at Ralph’s bed he found his younger brother gone.
With a furrow of his brow, Emrys began to feel as though he’d forgotten something. Something important.
Movement from the curtains at his window caught Emrys’ attention, but he was perplexed when he found the window closed. The boy had never known there to be a draft in his bedroom, but perhaps the autumn air had found its way into the house.
Just then, the curtains rustled again, and Emrys remembered.
Feeling ill before school. Passing out. Waking up as a ghost. Being in a coma for a month.
Etta.
A great sense of sadness came over Emrys as he realized he’d nearly forgotten about his ghostly love. He wished he could speak to her again, but he knew he had something to take care of.
Rising from bed, Emrys left his bedroom and walked into the hall, finding the house oddly quiet. There was always some sort of noise in the house, whether it was from the kitchen, or his siblings playing together, or from music emanating from the records his father liked to listen to as he worked in his office. But today it seemed as though the house had no life.
Emrys descended the stairs and walked toward the dining room, where he thought his family may be eating breakfast. As he pushed the door open just a crack so that he could peek inside the dining room, and he smiled when he found the six of them, eating quietly. His mother was assisting Della in cutting up a pancake. His youngest brothers, Francis and George, seemed to be arguing in whispers, about what Emrys could not hear. His other brother, Ralph, stared down at his plate sadly, pushing his food around with his fork. Emrys worried for a moment that his younger brother had had a bad morning.
Finally, Emrys looked to the head of the table where his father sat, reading the newspaper and ignoring the plate of food in front of him. This wasn’t unusual for Reuben Wood, as the man frequently forewent breakfast in favor of getting to the office early, but Emrys sensed that there was a different reason for his father’s fasting that morning.
Emrys, realizing he’d been standing there for several moments without making his presence known, cleared his throat and pushed the door open fully, drawing the attention of his brother Ralph.
“Emrys!” Ralph shouted, immediately standing from the table with such force that his chair fell backwards, and the boy ran to engulf Emrys in the tightest hug he’d ever experienced.
“Hello, Ralphie,” Emrys said as he wrapped his arms around his little brother, squeezing him tightly as he returned Ralph’s enthusiastic embrace.
Soon enough, all of Emrys’ siblings had their arms around him in a hug, and Emrys knew he had never felt more love from his family than in that moment. The five of them stayed like that for several moments, savoring the feeling of being together again.
When Emrys finally broke free of his siblings’ grasp, his mother was waiting for him, quickly enveloping her son in another embrace, her chest heaving with sobs of relief.
“Oh, my boy,” Louisa Wood cried. “I’m so relieved.”
Emrys’ eyes began to water as well. “I’m alright, Mother.”
The hug with his mother brought a sense of peace over Emrys, and he knew that his family still cared about him, that they hadn’t hoped for his death so that they wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore.
When Emrys pulled away from his mother, he looked toward the head of the table once more, at his father.
The man was in tears. In all of Emrys’ sixteen years of life, he had never seen his father cry. Not when they’d nearly lost their house, not when he’d been laid off from his first job, not when the family dog had died. Reuben Wood had always been the picture of emotional strength and confidence. But in this moment, as the man stood from his seat and rushed toward his eldest son, he did not just cry.
He weeped.
He weeped for his precious boy, his first boy. The boy who had taught him what it meant to love your children. The boy who had learned everything from him; how to throw a ball, how to tie his shoes, how to match his tie to his shirt. The boy who had cried to him when he was younger after getting hurt while playing with his friends. The boy who had handmade him a birthday card every year from the ages of three to eleven. The boy who had scared his father half to death when he’d started getting sick that summer, causing him to be more closed off in fear of losing his son.
Reuben Wood gathered Emrys into his arms, this hug different from all the others. This hug was apologetic. It was full of sorrow and relief, and it was full of all the love Reuben had never expressed outwardly to his boy in fear of showing weakness.
“I’m so sorry, my son,” Reuben weeped, clinging to Emrys like he was going to lose him. Emrys was frozen for a moment until he finally relaxed, wrapping his arms around his father. “I should have listened to you that day, I should have let you stay home. I should have been a better father, not just that day, but all your life. I’m so very sorry, Emrys. I’ve carried such guilt with me every day of this month, wondering if I would ever get the chance to apologize for failing you.”
Tears streamed heavily from Emrys eyes as he internalized his father’s words, the words he’d been wanting to hear since he was a little boy.
“It’s alright, Father. I’m here now. I’m alright,” Emrys said in a whisper, his voice breaking.
Reuben pulled back and placed his hands on his son’s shoulders, looking at him almost as if he was making sure he was really there, that he was really alright. “I love you, my boy. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you more often,” Reuben said, and it was the most honest confession he’d ever made.
Emrys embraced his father again as he replied, “I love you too, Father.”
The rest of the day was largely uneventful. Emrys ate breakfast with his family and listened as they told him all about the past month that he’d missed while he was comatose. He learned that his father had skipped work for two weeks, but had gone back after the night that Emrys and Etta had spoken to Della.
Emrys contemplated telling his family about his time as a ghost, but he decided against it. That time in his life was for him and him alone, and he didn’t want to worry his parents with the story.
Later that day, Emrys’ father called for the doctor to come and check on Emrys. The man came to the house expecting Emrys to be in dire condition, but when he saw the surprising amount of color in the boy’s cheeks and the lack of symptoms, he pronounced the boy healthy and prescribed a syrup for the minor cough that still lingered.
Reuben Wood weeped once again at that news and hugged the doctor goodbye.
It was on this day, Halloween of 1889, that Emrys Wood realized how precious life is. Not because he’d spent a month as a ghost, but because he spent the day with his family, who had been so worried for him that their lives had nearly stopped themselves with his absence.
Emrys would never take the breath in his lungs for granted again.
***
“Emrys.”
Emrys awoke to the sound of a girl’s voice.
Blinking a few times and squinting in the darkness, his eyes fell upon Etta, who was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at him.
“Etta?” Emrys asked as he sat up, feeling groggy.
Etta nodded. “It’s me, Emrys.”
The boy frowned in confusion. “But I thought…am I dead?” He asked. The doctor had told him he was healthy, but had he been wrong? Emrys was unsure.
Etta smiled warmly and took his hand in hers, and Emrys was surprised that he could feel her hand in his. “No, my darling. This is a dream.”
“Oh,” Emrys said, surprised by his own disappointment. He had been so happy to be alive that day, but he couldn’t deny the sadness he felt about no longer being able to be with Etta. “Are you saying goodbye, then?”
The red-haired ghost frowned sadly, confirming Emrys’ thoughts. “I’m afraid so, my darling.”
“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” Emrys spoke. “I’ve fallen for you tremendously. I fear I will never fall again.”
A lucent tear slid down Etta’s cheek as she smiled sadly at her living love. “Oh, but that is the beauty of mortality, my love. You will love another because you are mortal, and mortals love greatly.”
Emrys frowned. “I wish I wasn’t merely mortal.”
Etta shook her head kindly. “You are not merely mortal, Emrys. You are magnificently mortal.”
“I will never forget you, Loretta Baker,” Emrys whispered.
“Nor will I forget you, Emrys Wood.”
And the two children, brought together by fate but separated by time, spent their last moments together.
***
Months later when the summer came, so did Emrys’ capacity for love. Emrys had been somber over his goodbye with Etta for some time, but by spring he was feeling better, the new life that came with the season convincing him of new opportunities.
It was a hot summer day in late June when there came a knock upon the Wood’s front door.
“I’ll get it,” Emrys called through the house, running to open the door. He did not expect to see the girl who stood there.
“Etta?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at the girl in front of him.
The pretty girl frowned apologetically, “I’m sorry, I’m not…” she said.
Emrys blushed in embarrassment. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You just…you reminded me of someone I met in a dream, that’s all.”
Now that Emrys got a good look at her, he knew she wasn’t Etta. They did look quite similar, but this girl’s hair was more auburn and held more of a curl, and her eyes were bluer than his old ghost love.
Her smile though. Her smile was the same.
“No need to apologize, I’ve been told I have the sort of face that reminds people of those they once knew,” the girl said kindly, smoothing out the green dress she wore. It seemed she was a bit nervous. “I just came over to introduce myself. My parents and I just moved in next door, and I wanted to meet my new neighbors. I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said apologetically.
Emrys shook his head with a smile. “You’ve disturbed nothing. I’m Emrys Wood,” he said, sticking his hand out.
“I’m Belle Greville,” the girl said, placing her hand in Emrys’ and allowing him to bring it to his lips, as was proper for a gentleman.
Emrys was suddenly struck with a memory of October.
“My parents almost named me Belle because that’s what he wanted my name to be,” were the words that Etta had spoken to him months before, the night that her brother had seen her for the first time in thirteen years.
Emrys felt the same strong pull— perhaps stronger, even— toward Belle as he had with Etta months ago, and he began to think that perhaps Etta had been right when she’d told him that he would love again. For what was more in the line of fate than Belle showing up at his front door?
“It’s nice to meet you, Belle,” Emrys said. “Would you like to walk down to the beach with me? The view is lovely during the summer.”
Belle blushed and smiled at Emrys. “I would love to, Emrys,” she replied, taking Emrys’ arm when he offered it to her.
The two kids walked down the beach, arm in arm, and Emrys knew that fate and time were looking out for him. And perhaps another thing that Etta told him was proving to be true.
He was magnificently mortal.