3 - First Meeting with the Ghost

I was surprised that my grandfather’s ghost had managed to avoid being caught by anyone for nearly five years of coming and going from our house. Maybe someone in the family knew about him and was pretending not to. For a moment, I suspected that might be the case and wondered who it could be.

But I quickly dismissed the idea. I found it hard to believe that someone could notice a ghost, realize that the ghost was communicating with someone in the living world, and still not let anyone know about it. Besides, this wasn’t just some ordinary ghost. If someone saw a ghost they didn’t know, they might think no one would believe them, or simply conclude that they were hallucinating.

He was an important ghost. My father mourned my grandfather for two years and had a hard time getting used to his absence. He loved him like a friend. They had almost all the same hobbies. They had the same taste in music, too, and shared similar habits in many other ways. Since they had similar ways of thinking, they usually agreed with each other on most things and took each other’s side during family arguments.

So there was no way my father could have seen my grandfather’s ghost and kept it from the rest of the family. I won’t even mention the other members of the family; they simply weren’t the type of people who could keep something like that to themselves. When I imagined the moment my mother first saw my grandfather’s ghost, I couldn’t imagine her first reaction being anything other than shouting for help.

My sister would have reacted the same way. Maybe she would have spent a minute or so struggling to get herself to run, but after that, she would have bolted too. That minute would have been spent wrestling with a mixture of joy, fear, surprise, and the urge to make sense of what was happening. The kind of feelings you experience when you freeze in the face of something completely unexpected. But it probably wouldn’t have taken more than a minute for fear to overpower all the other emotions.

Thinking about all this reminded me of my own reaction the first time I met my grandfather’s ghost. I was twenty years old at the time. Back then, my grandfather hadn’t yet figured out how to make himself visible. He could only make his voice heard.

‘’I first called out ‘Charlie’, just to see how you’d react. I changed my voice a little too, so you wouldn’t get too confused. What time was it? Around noon, I think. I don’t remember exactly. But I do remember that I didn’t come at night because I didn’t want to scare you,’’ my grandfather had told me about that day.

‘’Then I waited and watched your reaction. You kind of squinted and looked around, but you didn’t seem to care much. Then I whistled to see how you’d react to that. Actually, wait, I whistled first, yes. I’m getting confused. Old age.’’

I remembered that day well too. I can still remember the sound of his whistle. It started high and went down in pitch, like the sound in old cartoons when someone falls off a cliff. It wasn’t the kind of whistle you use to call someone or get their attention.

‘’Yes, yes, I whistled first and watched to see what you’d do. Then I called out to you. But you didn’t react to the whistle at all, boy. I mean, you hear a strange whistle, you’d at least look around and wonder where the hell it was coming from. Maybe you’d mess around with a few things, wondering if the sound was coming from one of them. I was worried at the time, too. I didn’t know how to talk to you without scaring you. But you were so damn relaxed. I even thought, ‘Should I just go ‘boo’ at him?’’

Honestly, I remember being a little startled when I heard the whistle. It wasn’t the kind of sound something in the room could have made. At the time, I was lying on my bed, thinking about whether my father would buy me the electronic drum set I’d asked for for my birthday. I wanted those drums so badly that I’d become completely absorbed in thinking about it. I was weighing the odds: the fact that my birthday was close to my father’s payday, how things had been between us lately, the way he’d reacted when I first asked him for the drums, and so on. So I just flinched at the whistle and quickly went back to my calculations.

‘’When I called out, ‘Charlie,’ you didn’t give me the reaction I was expecting either. You looked around a little, trying to make sense of things, but no, it wasn’t enough for me. I thought, I guess this kid isn’t going to be scared. But I still didn’t let my guard down, of course. I called out ‘Charlie’ one more time. This time, in my own voice. That’s when you finally moved a little. That’s when you got scared, right? We can’t act cool every second of our lives, Charlie. Right, boy?’’

Yes, I was scared. But that was my grandfather’s fault. I mean, imitating someone else’s voice when he first called my name made sense. I would have been less confused that way. He had thought that part through. But then calling out to me again almost immediately, especially in his own voice, scared me quite a bit. He should have taken it slower. After the first call, he should have given me some time to think about it. Where had that voice come from? Had someone called out to me from outside, or from the next room, and had I just heard the voice unusually close? I should have had time to ask myself questions like that. I needed to get used to this voice hanging there in empty space first.

‘’You really got scared back then, didn’t you? You went pale. You jumped to your feet in an instant. And you didn’t even leave the room. You wanted to see what would happen. Well done, you were a brave man. You jumped to your feet, but you had no idea what to do. You didn’t even know if the voice was real or not. And you didn’t believe in ghosts either, so you were doubly confused.’’

The thing about getting used to something is that it takes time. Getting used to something is a process. It’s not a reaction or a feeling that suddenly appears. It’s a matter of time. It can’t happen all at once. That goes against the very nature of getting used to something. It takes at least two hours. I wouldn’t call anything that takes less than two hours getting used to something. I’d call it something you’ve already gotten used to.

My grandfather must have thought the same way, because he didn’t call out to me again.

‘’When I saw your reaction, I felt bad. But I was determined. I mean, if I gave up then, I knew I wouldn’t be able to convince myself to try talking to you again. I didn’t want to scare you, but at the same time, I thought you needed to make a little sacrifice too. A little fear wouldn’t hurt, right? I mean, wouldn’t it be worth being a little scared if it meant you could talk to your grandfather again? Thinking that way, I got all fired up and wanted to start talking to you nonstop, but I stopped myself. I decided to wait two or three hours to give you some time to get used to the situation.’’

According to him, he had given me exactly three hours to get used to it. I remember being scared and leaving the room to watch some TV. For some reason, I never thought, “I must have imagined the voice.” Quite the opposite, actually. I tried to convince myself that it was my grandfather’s voice. I started wondering whether ghosts were really real and what they were supposed to look like. Honestly, I was quite surprised later when I found out that a ghost actually looked the way we’d seen them in movies. How could that prediction have turned out to be right? Had someone seen a ghost, made a movie about it, and somehow established the standard for what ghosts were supposed to look like? I found it strange that the idea of them being transparent had turned out to be correct.

‘’I was pretty bored during those three hours, Charlie. Really bored. I couldn’t touch anything, so I couldn’t even take a book from the bookshelf and read. There was nothing I could do to pass the time. I couldn’t even sit down. Whenever I tried to sit on the couch, whoop, I went right through it. I just floated there in midair. I thought about going outside for a walk, but I’d only just figured out how everything worked, and I had no idea what would happen. Maybe I’d just disappear the moment I left the house. Or maybe I’d go straight back to the other world. I didn’t know anything. Everything was uncertain. So I just hung there in midair for three hours, waiting for you to get used to the situation, Charlie. It was a terrible experience. I was absolutely bored out of my mind.’’

What happened next was a complete disaster. It was a bad decision brought on by a combination of boredom and impatience.

“I finally thought, enough. For God’s sake, let’s just get this over with. Whatever’s going to happen, let it happen already. Things will happen, we’ll deal with them afterward. I thought I could make it up to you later. And you just wouldn’t come back into the room. You went in there, turned on the TV, and started watching. Could you be any more indifferent, Charlie?”

That voice still hasn’t left my ears. My grandfather’s completely thoughtless move stayed with me for a long time. The same grandfather who had been so careful not to scare me suddenly said, in a very loud voice:

‘’Charlie, come on, let’s talk, son. This isn’t going to work. You understand, I’m here. What are you waiting for, Charlie? I know this is hard to get used to. I know it’s hard to accept. I’m struggling with it too. I didn’t know I could come back here either, but this is a wonderful opportunity. Is there really any point in passing up an opportunity like this just because we’re afraid, worried, or might end up traumatized? For God’s sake, come on, let’s talk.’’

Yes, my grandfather had said all of that at the top of his voice. Thankfully, no one else was home, but I don’t think he’d even thought about that. My grandfather hadn’t been someone who was so easily overcome by his emotions when he was alive. I guess dying changes a person.

It really was a very strange moment. My grandfather’s explanation had made sense. He was right about what he’d said. For some reason, he had convinced me. As I walked back into my room, I was thinking, “He’s right. The man has come back. Yes, I’m scared to death, and this is probably going to traumatize me. But do you really pass up an opportunity like this just because you’re scared, Charile? I mean, if I leave the house now and he sees my reaction and never comes back again, would that really be better? Think about it, Charlie. Be reasonable.”

‘’There you go. Come sit down for a minute so we can talk. Charlie, I missed you guys so much, son. This is my third time coming back to this world. One of those times, I caught you flipping your dad off behind his back. Anyway. Look, you’re going to be scared. There’s nothing you can do about that. It’s going to feel like you’ve lost your mind, but you’ll get used to it. I’m still me, you know. Look at me, I’m rambling on like I always do. This needs to feel familiar to you. It needs to feel like I’m still alive, or something. Forget about what it means, what’s real and what isn’t. I’m here. I’m talking to you. I’m talking to you just like I used to. That’s what you should focus on. Don’t focus on the fact that I’m a ghost. Focus on our conversation. Try to focus on that. I’m not telling you to just accept this whole thing all of a sudden. I know your whole understanding of the world has been shaken. Just bear with me, Charlie.’’

I couldn’t say anything. I remember feeling lightheaded, like my blood pressure had dropped. I felt as though something bad would happen to me if I answered him and actually communicated with him. It was as if, I don’t know, I was making some supernatural mistake by establishing a connection with the other world, as if I were violating some kind of supernatural rule. And yet I didn’t even believe in the supernatural until three hours earlier. It was a very strange moment. I just sat there in silence and let myself experience the fear to the fullest.

‘’I’m leaving now, Charlie. I understand that you’re not talking to me. Think about it. Weigh it, consider it, figure out what’s going on, get used to it, accept it. I’ll come back in a week. And Charlie, let me tell you something. I’m sensitive about this too. I don’t want to make your life miserable. Don’t take this as a threat. I’m saying this for both our sakes. If you’re still scared when I come back in a week, if you still won’t talk to me, if you keep acting like this, I might not come back again. Just so you know. So watch yourself, Charlie. Don’t drag this out any longer than it needs to be. I came back, you were surprised, you were shocked, you were terrified, and that’s it. Okay? There’s no need to drag this out. Think about it. I’m talking to you and you’re not even answering me. I don’t tolerate disrespect, Charlie. Watch yourself. I’m leaving now. I won’t be here anymore. I’m just telling you that so you don’t stand there calling out after me like an idiot, wondering if I’m still here.’’