2 - Ghosts Don't Teleport

‘’I’m thinking I should let your mother see me, too. What do you think? After all, I’m her father-in-law. I figure she’d be less surprised.’’

It would have been a bad idea. My mother was quite afraid of ghosts. When she was a child, her parents had raised her with that kind of fear; the usual stuff, “If you don’t eat your meal, I’m going to complain about you to such-and-such ghost,” and things like that. Going to bed on time, finishing dinner, doing homework, making bed, all of these things were under the supervision of ghosts. For that reason, my mother had a particular vulnerability when it came to ghosts.

I don’t know whether my grandfather knew about it. But when we were children, whenever my sister or I made a mistake or failed to follow one of her instructions, we noticed that she would quote her own mother and bring up her fear of ghosts. It was always clear from her tone of voice that she was tempted to use the same tactic on us and was caught in an ethical dilemma: she thought it was very wrong, but she also thought it would be effective; she suspected it might traumatize us, but it would make us comply, which meant she would have less trouble dealing with our mischief.

‘’What are you thinking so hard about, boy? Was it really such a difficult question?’’

‘’I mean, it’s a little difficult. I think she’d be scared. I mean, it’s not just her, anyone would be scared. You’re creepy, too. You don’t even have a head. If you had a head, it might be a little different.’’

‘’So you’re saying she wouldn’t be scared if I had a head.’’

‘’No, that’s not exactly what I’m saying. I mean, I don’t know, maybe you could’ve disguised yourself as someone else or something. You could’ve worn a wig, sunglasses, I don’t know, we could’ve done something to change your appearance. The head is what ruins everything.’’

‘’What if I called her on the phone? Would that work? Then your theory falls apart, because she wouldn’t see me. She’d only hear my voice.’’

‘’Hmm, that’s a good idea.’’

I understood why my grandfather chose my mother as the person he wanted to reveal himself to. He thought she would go through less emotional turmoil. If he revealed himself to my father or my sister, they would feel more than just fear. There would also be longing, and perhaps even a certain joy. Despite their fear, they would want to accept what was happening immediately, but two powerful emotions would be confronting each other at the same time.

Fear and acceptance were supposed to happen one after the other. But because they had loved my grandfather so much when he was alive, they would probably experience both at once when faced with him again. It would be a great emotional confusion for them. My grandfather wasn’t willing to put them through that kind of emotional intensity.

‘’Right?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’No head, but I’m a clever man. Right?’’

‘’And if you had a head, you’d be a scientist, no doubt.’’

‘’I have a head, boy. It’s just not visible. Not having a head and having a head that isn’t visible are two different things.’’

‘’Yes, you have a head, but it has very little use. I mean, you can’t perform many of the things a head is supposed to do because yours isn’t visible. You can’t taste anything, you can’t comb your hair, for example. Am I wrong? Now that I think about it, thinking and being intelligent are also things the head is responsible for. So we can’t know whether you’d be any smarter if your head were visible.’’

‘’Good point. But I disagree.’’

After a brief silence, my grandfather got up and began pacing around my room. He picked up a pen from my desk, examined it for a moment, and then put it back.

‘’Do you think your mother would recognize my handwriting?’’

‘’I don’t think so.’’

He seemed to be looking something up on my desk. I couldn’t see what he was looking at, but his shoulders moved slightly from side to side.

‘’Who would remember my handwriting, then?’’

‘’Your handwriting has probably been forgotten by now, Grandpa. I don’t think anyone would remember it.’’

He looked around on my desk for a little longer. When he couldn’t find what he was looking for, he went back to the armchair.

‘’Give me your phone, will you? I’ll give your mother a call.’’

‘’At this hour? It’s two in the morning. She’ll be asleep.’’

‘’So we’ll wake her up. It’s a good time. She’ll wake up, she won’t know what’s going on, and so on. Would it really be better for her to talk to me while her mind is completely clear?’’

‘’No, Grandpa. My dad’s there too. He’ll wake up when the phone rings, and then things will get complicated. Besides, calling her from my phone doesn’t seem like a particularly clever idea either.’’

‘’So how are we going to do it?’’

‘’I’ll get a new number in my name tomorrow. You can call her from that.’’

‘’What time should I come, then?’’

‘’Would around three in the afternoon work?’’

‘’Deal.’’

After I said this, my grandfather slowly began to fade from sight.

‘’Are you leaving?’’

‘’Yeah, I should go. It’s a long way. The journey wears me out.’’

‘’So you actually have to travel from there to here? There’s no teleportation or anything like that?’’

‘’No, boy, no teleportation. It takes us about two hours to fly from there to here. We pass through all sorts of weird dimensions and stuff.’’

‘’How long does it take to get from there to here?’’

‘’Like I said, about two hours or so. About an hour and a half of that is spent traveling through the dimensions. Then another thirty to forty-five minutes or so from space to Earth, and maybe another ten minutes from Earth to our house. So I guess it actually takes more than two hours.’’