on her apron and reached back to untie it. She handed it to me. “I have to pick up the boys. You can finish cutting the tomatoes.” She looked at me. “Zilly, I know this move has been hard for you, but—”
I could feel heat rising in my face. I snatched the apron from her hand and put it on. “You’re right, Mom. It’s all in my imagination. Run along and I’ll finish dinner.” My words could not have sounded angrier if I’d said them through gritted teeth.
The herd of animals followed her to the door then sat to wait for her return. I was alone. The hair stood up on my forearms as I chopped the tomatoes. They looked better prepared for spaghetti sauce than salad by the time I had sawed through them. I reached for the cucumber but dropped it as an icy breeze blew across the back of my neck. It bounced to the floor. Darcy raced over and grabbed it. The dog trotted toward the family room with her prize but spit it out five feet from the door. A growl vibrated from her throat as she stared at the kitchen table. The cats ran from the room, but it wasn’t Darcy’s growl that frightened them. I snatched up a radish and threw it at the dog’s butt. She whimpered and ran from the room leaving the vegetable on the floor.
Now Lizzie’s attention had been drawn to the table only instead of a growl, she wagged her tail nervously. Even the animals were possessed. I turned back to the cutting board.
“You know nothing of love,” a deep voice came from behind me. I froze, clutching the knife tightly in my fingers. My gaze flashed sideways to Lizzie. She stared at something directly behind me. I would have screamed if the sound had not lodged in my chest. Slowly, I turned around.
“How do you do? I am Sebastian Middleton.”
The knife slipped to the floor, barely missing my toes. “Holy crap,” the words sputtered from my lips.
“Very poetic. I can see why you have such a problem with my writing. You are obviously a genius when it comes to prose. ”
The room began to spin, and I swayed back and forth. A kitchen chair slid across the room and circled behind me. I plopped down hard. “This is impossible. There is no way you’re real.” The long white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and his feet were bare. He looked just like his picture but less solid, nearly transparent in fact. I could see past his body right through to the clock on the wall.
“I am real.”
I lunged for the knife on the ground and hurled it at him. It slid right through him and landed point first in the door.
He shrugged his sheer shoulders. “Well, I’m real in the stuck between this world and the other world sense, anyhow.”
I pressed my hands over my face. “Wake up, wake up, wake up.”
“You’ve destroyed those tomatoes.”
I dropped my hands. “What do you want from me? This has to be a bad dream. Soon I will wake up in my cozy bed.” I pinched my arm but it didn’t wake me.
“It’s not a dream, Brazil. And I must say that is the strangest name I have ever heard.”
I stood and circled behind the chair as if it could provide some kind of protection. My gaze flitted to the door. I contemplated making a dash for it, but my legs felt as wobbly as pudding.
Lizzie had already bored of the whole thing and had returned to her sentry station at the back door. Wheels crunched the gravel on the driveway, and my heart jumped to my throat. “Don’t move,” I told the wavy vision of dark curls and penetrating eyes in front of me. “I want my mom to see you.” I flew out of the back door and nearly ran into the front end of the car as Mom parked it.
She jumped out of the driver’s seat. “Brazil! What are you doing? I could have hit you.”
My voice cracked painfully out of my throat as I motioned wildly to the back door. “He’s there, in the kitchen.” I grabbed her arm and began to pull her along. “The ghost is in our kitchen.”
The twins raced past us and through the back door. We stepped into an
I could feel heat rising in my face. I snatched the apron from her hand and put it on. “You’re right, Mom. It’s all in my imagination. Run along and I’ll finish dinner.” My words could not have sounded angrier if I’d said them through gritted teeth.
The herd of animals followed her to the door then sat to wait for her return. I was alone. The hair stood up on my forearms as I chopped the tomatoes. They looked better prepared for spaghetti sauce than salad by the time I had sawed through them. I reached for the cucumber but dropped it as an icy breeze blew across the back of my neck. It bounced to the floor. Darcy raced over and grabbed it. The dog trotted toward the family room with her prize but spit it out five feet from the door. A growl vibrated from her throat as she stared at the kitchen table. The cats ran from the room, but it wasn’t Darcy’s growl that frightened them. I snatched up a radish and threw it at the dog’s butt. She whimpered and ran from the room leaving the vegetable on the floor.
Now Lizzie’s attention had been drawn to the table only instead of a growl, she wagged her tail nervously. Even the animals were possessed. I turned back to the cutting board.
“You know nothing of love,” a deep voice came from behind me. I froze, clutching the knife tightly in my fingers. My gaze flashed sideways to Lizzie. She stared at something directly behind me. I would have screamed if the sound had not lodged in my chest. Slowly, I turned around.
“How do you do? I am Sebastian Middleton.”
The knife slipped to the floor, barely missing my toes. “Holy crap,” the words sputtered from my lips.
“Very poetic. I can see why you have such a problem with my writing. You are obviously a genius when it comes to prose. ”
The room began to spin, and I swayed back and forth. A kitchen chair slid across the room and circled behind me. I plopped down hard. “This is impossible. There is no way you’re real.” The long white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and his feet were bare. He looked just like his picture but less solid, nearly transparent in fact. I could see past his body right through to the clock on the wall.
“I am real.”
I lunged for the knife on the ground and hurled it at him. It slid right through him and landed point first in the door.
He shrugged his sheer shoulders. “Well, I’m real in the stuck between this world and the other world sense, anyhow.”
I pressed my hands over my face. “Wake up, wake up, wake up.”
“You’ve destroyed those tomatoes.”
I dropped my hands. “What do you want from me? This has to be a bad dream. Soon I will wake up in my cozy bed.” I pinched my arm but it didn’t wake me.
“It’s not a dream, Brazil. And I must say that is the strangest name I have ever heard.”
I stood and circled behind the chair as if it could provide some kind of protection. My gaze flitted to the door. I contemplated making a dash for it, but my legs felt as wobbly as pudding.
Lizzie had already bored of the whole thing and had returned to her sentry station at the back door. Wheels crunched the gravel on the driveway, and my heart jumped to my throat. “Don’t move,” I told the wavy vision of dark curls and penetrating eyes in front of me. “I want my mom to see you.” I flew out of the back door and nearly ran into the front end of the car as Mom parked it.
She jumped out of the driver’s seat. “Brazil! What are you doing? I could have hit you.”
My voice cracked painfully out of my throat as I motioned wildly to the back door. “He’s there, in the kitchen.” I grabbed her arm and began to pull her along. “The ghost is in our kitchen.”
The twins raced past us and through the back door. We stepped into an
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