Between Seasons by Aida Brassington Read Free Book Online

few more. And Patrick probably knew guys who ended up being drafted, guys who died. And what about his friends? Andy. Ginny. He was strangely apprehensive but still interested in watching the news; he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know exactly what had been going on since he died. He knew the world hadn’t ended… or at least he thought he did.
    There had been something in that book about religion that mentioned limbo being a place of each person’s making, and he’d given it enough thought over the years. It was entirely possible this house was just limbo. He didn’t think a little premarital sex before he died rated eternity trapped in the house, but there was no guarantee the world hadn’t stopped. Maybe World War III had erupted and wiped out the east coast. Or, Hell , maybe the Russians had finally dropped nukes on the country.
    Sara was at the front door greeting some old guy in a blue uniform when Patrick caught up to her.
    “Yeah, the meter is around back, I think.”
    The man smiled and headed to the left of the porch.
    “Okay,” she muttered with a faint smile. “Electricity it is. That means hot water. Nice.”
    “Oh, man.” Patrick rubbed at his hair, careful not to disturb the perfect feathering – not that it mattered, since his hair always snapped back . “I miss showers.”
    One of the benefits of being a ghost was not ever sweating or getting dirty, but the feel of steamy water on his back on a cold day was something he couldn’t ever forget. Of course, he also thought about Sara in the shower now, wondering what she looked like naked. He immediately tried to force the image out of his head –in the interest of being a good roommate , it seem like the smart thing to avoid pervy thoughts about her . Still, it was nice to know some thing s hadn’t changed. He still felt like at typical nineteen year old, and the stirring in his pants proved it .
    She padded into the kitchen, grinning when the refrigerator hummed to life moments later.
    “Maybe I’ll be able to make dinner tonight. You loved my bread salad, so I won’t be making that.”
    Patrick eyed the way her cheekbones poked at her pale skin. “Whatever you make, I think you need to put some meat on your bones. You’re skinny. But hey, no pancakes, okay?” He hated the smell of pancakes. If he never smelled them again, it would be too soon.
    “I don’t weigh enough,” she seemed to agree, running a palm over her ribs. “I couldn’t eat, you know? I woke up, and you were just gone. Everything was.” She hummed a song Patrick didn’t recognize while pawing through another box on the kitchen floor, pulling out a black wire with obvious triumph.
    Grappling with the cord, she plugged one end into the socket and connected it to her tiny telephone. “I’ll call Mom and Dad later to let them know I’m here. Jules probably told them, but Mom still worries. She wanted to ruin you for everything that happened … Jules just wanted to ruin me.”
    Patrick didn’t know what to make of Sara. He didn’t understand anything she was saying, but it was nice just to have someone around he could pretend was talking to him. He liked her company. She was weird, sure, but she seemed nice.
    The doorbell rang again, and Sara dropped the telephone on the counter before rushing back out to the door. Patrick glanced out the window above the sink, watching the breeze blow the laundry on the line in the neighbor’s backyard. The sun shined brightly, glinting of f the metal poles at either end .
    “… nice of you.” Sara walked back into the kitchen holding a plate of something, a short woman padding after her. Her skin was exactly the color of the caramel candies Patrick’s dad had been so crazy about.
    “Well, believe me – I know what it’s like to be the new girl in the neighborhood. My husband and I just moved in next door a few years ago.”
    Next door? Didn’t the Dodds live next door? He supposed he hadn’t seen Mr. or Mrs. Dodd