The two lane stretch of highway ahead seemed endless to Dane as he drove easterly this Indian summer evening. Nothing but sage brush dotted the rolling topography. Distant mountain peaks were gilded with snow from last winter which stubbornly refused to yield to the hot July days. Dane’s eyelids felt heavy with desire to doze. He had been coasting along at 60 miles per hour for over two hundred miles. The posted speed limit was 70 mph but knowing his gas mileage would respond favorably to a less heavy foot, he set the cruise to ten miles slower instead.
Sighing, Dane glanced at the gas gage. Relieved to see the warning light had not yet flickered on, he still wished he had bought a few dollars worth of gas in Carlton, the last town he had driven through over an hour ago. The trouble was Dane didn’t have a few dollars. As of a week before he was out of a job and had not yet filed for unemployment. Asking strangers for money was not his favorite pastime, not even in emergencies. When he had left home he really believed his full tank of gas would take him as far as Elftown, his destination. His brother was suffering his way through an unwanted divorce and Dane, who had always been there for his younger brother wanted to offer support. After all, Dane had experienced the pain of a broken heart a year before when his high school girlfriend had called off their wedding plans at the last moment.
Suddenly Dane’s sleepy eyes captured a point of interest. As he braked slowly to view it, he noticed is was simply another erected cross symbolizing a family’s loved one lost on the highway. Quickly mulling over whether to stop his pickup or not, he decided at any rate he needed to stretch the stiffness out of his bent legs. Feeling the desert breeze caress his whiskery face he immediately felt refreshed as he sauntered towards the stark white cross. As always he felt empathy for the family of whoever was lost and used these frequent symbols as reminders to drive safely.
Standing before this particular cross Dane read the inscriptions carefully. The name was unusual. Sparrow. Thoughtfully Dane pondered . It sounded like a girls name rather than a males. He began reading the other engravings. From 1983 to 2002. Wow, he thought. She was only nineteen. How very sad. Then Dane noticed several scattered coins in the course sand surrounding the cross. He wished he had even one penny to leave along with the others. Kind of a token of his sympathy. Thoughtfully Dane turned toward his pickup, and witnessed one of the most beautiful sunsets he had ever seen. Pale burgundy tones with highlights of orange and crimson.
Don’t leave! Please don’t leave. The feminine voice startled Dane to a stop. He pivoted around to gaze at the wooden cross, hoping to hear the voice again. However only the light breezes responded as they swept the surface of the vast desert. Dane suddenly felt distressed as he strode back to his vehicle. Something was causing him to question leaving. He almost felt guilty about going. This is ridiculous, he decided as he slid behind the wheel of his pickup. I’m imagining things. Checking both ways for any other cars, Dane pulled back onto the highway. He was glad he had stopped though. The fresh air had helped rouse him from the drowsiness he had felt, plus the lonely cross had given him food for thought. Who was this young woman who had suddenly died? How did she die? Was she driving the car when the accident happened.? Did she fall asleep at the wheel of her car?
Out of habit Dane glanced again at the gas gage. He hadn’t driven even a mile when the warning light blinked it’s orange glow. Oh no, he thought. What am I gonna do now. A million miles from nowhere and an empty gas tank. Unexpectedly he remembered the coins which had been tossed alongside the cross off the road behind him. Braking to a stop on the wide shoulder of the highway, Dane sat in his pickup with the engine running. Unable to make a quick decision he turned off the ignition. Theft was not one of his vices, therefore prompting serious contemplation within himself. Lifting the state map to unfold it, Dane began a study of his geographic surroundings. After asserting his whereabouts, he realized the next town was less than sixty miles ahead. He had never pushed his warning light to the limit before but he knew he had to now. Then again he did not know how big the town would be or even if there were any gas stations in the town. Even if there was he had no green bills. Searching his pockets and console he counted up a total of two nickels and three pennies. Oh, that’s just great he smirked inwardly. Exactly thirteen cents. Lucky thirteen! Then, after only a moment his mind leaped back down the road behind him, to the cross a mile away. He did have a penny to leave that girl, Sparrow was her name. In fact he had a whole thirteen cents. Gas shortages and map mileage concerns swiftly left his senses as he made a quick U turn, kicking up gravel in the process. I’ll just leave her twelve cents, he decided. Wherever she is, unlucky thirteen would bring her bad luck. Parking his pickup in the same place as before, Dane emerged and loped purposefully towards the lonely cross with the twelve cents clutched in the palm of his hand.
Standing proudly in front of the symbolic cross Dane found himself talking softly but aloud while still holding his meager offering. Sparrow, he uttered. I don’t know who you were in life or where you are now but it doesn’t really matter any more I guess. I just want you to have these coins. It’s not much but it’s all I have. Maybe, if enough people stop here to visit you, the coins will add up to worthiness.
Dumbfounded, Dane found he could not open his fingers when he thrust his hand forward to toss the coins. He tried again, still his hand remained stiffened into a fist. Why can’t I give Sparrow these coins, he wondered in despair. Am I simply losing my mind? Trying to refocus, he stood quietly for a moment before trying to throw the coins again. However, before he even had a chance, he became transfixed on an event transpiring before his weary eyes. All of the other coins which had been offered to Sparrow from other visitors were slowly lifting from the desert floor and moving in the direction of Dane’s midsection. Paralyzed to react Dane watched as the quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies made their way into the pocket of his jeans.
Please except them You need them and they won’t help me. There was that soft whispery voice again. Dane did not understand any of what was happening. However by this time he did realize this spiritual event was not a figment of his imagination, also he knew to refuse the coins at this time would be akin to insulting the dead.
Humbly Dane added his twelve cents to his grown funds and stood quietly with his hands folded in front of him. Thank you Sparrow. I wish I’d known you in real life. Whoever you were I know for a fact you were one heck of a woman. I hate to leave you now but I really need to find a place to buy gas and then go see my brother. If you don’t mind I will stop on my way home.
By this time Dane expected the gentle flow of Sparrow’s voice. Please don’t forget. Dane knew he would not forget.
Before getting back in his pickup Dane reached in his pocket for the accumulated coins. Counting them he realized there was more than he thought. Totaled there was six dollars and fifty three cents. Revived and wide awake he resumed his journey, hoping his almost empty gas tank would show mercy enough to get him the sixty miles further east on the deserted highway. He could hardly wait to tell his brother about his phenomenonal experience. Did his brother believe in Ghosts, he wondered!
Only a few miles had spun past Dane when he felt an overwhelming tiredness overcome him. Maybe I’m suffering from some kind of post-trauma syndrome he pondered as he slowed down to look for a side road. He figured he would be fine after a catnap. Although completely dark by now his headlights found their way to a half way decent dirt road on his left. After turning he began searching for a place to pull off the road and nap. Pleased he found the road ended at a huge sandpit, not very far from the highway. Pulling alongside one of the huge mounds he shut down the engine and groped for the flashlight under his seat. Then he moved from the cab to the bed of his truck, thankful he had purchased the beat up camper shell. Spending several minutes crouched within it’s confines, he finally had the sleeping bag unrolled with an army blanket his brother had given him on top. Using an old stained couch pillow to rest his head he switched off the flashlight and waited for sleep. However the next instinct overrode tiredness. Dane found that in addition to being quite fatigued, he was hungry. Extremely so! Glad he always kept snack provisions in his truck he used the flashlight to seek the cardboard box he kept them in. Then he slid his tired body to a sitting position against the cab of the truck, with the old blue sofa pillow behind him. A feast now lay beside him in the opened box. Crackers, jerky, snack sized fruit cans, fig bars and lukewarm bottled water. Ravenously he commenced on satisfying his hunger. As his hunger subsided he slowed down to eat more leisurely. He laughed at himself, thinking he felt like a reclusive hermit, holed up in a cave somewhere. While munching on a fig bar a familiar voice penetrated his amusement at himself.
Can I have one of those? it asked ever so politely. Well, yeah! Dane responded. But how do I give it to you?
In reply Sparrow requested, Just put it on your tail-gate and I can get it. Dane leaned forward to set a few of the fig bars on the opened tailgate. As an after thought he placed a paper towel under them. Observing with amazement he watched the snack bars float upward and beyond the tailgate before they quickly disappeared. He listened intently for chewing sounds but could not detect any.
It’s warmer in here. Dane patted the foot of his makeshift bed, his intentions honorable.
Shyly Sparrow answered Dane. That’s okay! I don’t ever get cold.
Wow, that’s cool. Dane blurted before realizing how foolish his comment was. Hearing her feminine chuckle from beyond, Dane wondered why he was not sleepy anymore. He was pleasantly surprised to have Sparrow visit his one night camp site and did not want to do anything to discourage her from staying longer. Fumbling over what he could say next, Sparrow spoke first.
Thank you for trying to leave your last few coins earlier but money is of no use to me anymore.
Dane chuckled, his arms resting behind his head. What do you mean? The money people leave you could buy you bunches of those fig bars you ate so fast.
Well, that’s what people don’t understand. Sparrow explained calmly. I’m sure their intentions are good but I would much prefer they leave snacks instead. I can eat those as soon as they leave but coins just sit there until somebody gathers them up.
Extremely interested in the life of Ghost Sparrow Dane spurred her on. What do you do when you go along time between food donations. Starve? The thought of his new friend going hungry bothered Dane.
Sparrow assured him. Oh no, never do I go hungry. I don’t need or require people food to survive in my Ghostly form but I still enjoy it if it happens to be available.
Remembering the way Sparrow gobbled those fig bars down, Dane knew he’d leave plenty at the site of her cross on the way home from his visit to his brother. Then curiosity got the best of him.
I want to ask you something Sparrow, but I don’t want to upset you. Dane hesitated.
Sparrow set Dane’s mind to rest. I don’t suffer anymore from negative feelings. I only experience pleasant and positive emotions like happiness, joy and love.
Gee I envy you. Dane confided, remembering how broken hearted he had felt this past year.
Instinctively Sparrow knew what Dane wanted to ask her. You’re curious about how I died, aren’t you?
Suddenly embarrassed , Dane hastily replied. You don’t have to tell me about your accident if you don’t want to. It’s none of my business anyway.
Completely unprepared for Sparrow’s next response, Dane remained silent, not wanting to push this lovely Ghost of a woman away.
I wasn’t involved in a car accident. I was murdered. Sparrow announced, hoping she would not upset this gentleman too much.
Hopping out of his sleeping bag, Dane unfolded himself outside of his pickup bed, ready to use karate chops on Sparrows killer. You were murdered? By who? And how? He was genuinely interested in Ghost Sparrow’s story.
Never before having the opportunity to confide in a highway traveler before this moment, Sparrow decided she could trust this spirited man with the facts surrounding her death. Taking notice of Dane’s shivering in the cold night breezes of the desert, she agreed to join him in the relative warmth of his pickup cab. There they remained, with Dane staring off into the unrelenting darkness beyond his window as Sparrow’s invisible spirit related the events of the night of her murder.
I was leaving the Mall, she told Dane. and as I walked to my car I noticed I had a flat tire. Right away a man approached me with an offer to change it. Although my senses told me he had flattened my tire on purpose while I was in the mall I knew I could be wrong. That kept me from running when he leaned down to look at the tire. Besides I didn’t want to appear foolish if he was sincerely trying to help me. While he was still stooped down I skipped my only chance to flee. I heard the sound of a pocket knife clicking open and froze hoping it wasn’t true Before I could react any further the man poked the blade toward me and ordered me to get in the car next to mine. I wanted to scream out to a group of people that passed by but I was too scared to even holler or anything. Instead, like a fool I let the man coax me into his car. He kept me hostage for two full days, just driving around aimlessly in this desert. I tried pleading hoping he would show mercy and let me go. I told him about my family, my Mom and Dad, my sister and brothers. I told him how much my family would grieve if anything happened to me and how they must already be worried sick wondering where I was. Just when I thought he might take me back to town he sped up on his gas pedal and didn’t stop until we reached the place where my cross is now The only chance I would have had at that point is for him to have been stopped for speeding but I wasn’t to be that lucky.
Dane’s emotions were in a turmoil. He wished he had been around to help Sparrow when she needed it. Then he thought about the coins he was going to leave at her cross and how he kept one penny aside because he didn’t want to bring her bad luck. Now he felt foolish. Sparrow’s luck had already ran out. What harm would’ve that extra penny brought her? For awhile Dane and Sparrow sat quietly, then Sparrow continued her story. The most horrid part of all. Dane wasn’t sure he wanted any more information but he listened anyway.
When we got to this area he ordered me out of his car. I hoped then that he was letting me go but he got out too. I started to run up the highway but he caught up with me quickly and pushed me down. My only hope then was for another car to come along but when I looked both ways on the road I didn’t see any headlights.
Feeling like he was watching a scary movie at a drive-in theatre, Dane sat rigidly behind the steering wheel, wishing with all his might the ending would be like always. The victim’s rescuer would appear and the bad guy would be killed. All of these emotions were dashed though, with Sparrows next true segment.
It was dark but the light of the full moon shone enough for me to see the flicker of the knife blade while he stabbed me over and over again. I guess I was in shock because I didn’t feel any pain except for the few seconds before I blacked out.
Did you feel fear, knowing you were dying? Dane could not help but ask.
Of course! Sparrow admitted. Beyond my wildest dreams.
Again Dane’s curiosity prompted him. What was your very last thought?
Memorizing his license plate in case I lived. Sparrow sounded despondent.
Looking over to the empty seat beside him, Dane wished reverently that Sparrow could materialize herself. Still, though he could not presently see her, he felt he had known her all of his life.
Did you memorize the guy’s license? Dane inquired, hoping she had.
Only the numbers. Sparrow told him. 334 was all I managed to get. The letters were covered with my blood.
Dane shivered at the image of Sparrows freshly shed blood on the jerks license plate. He pulled his unzipped jacket together to ward out the cold. Sparrow’s voice was like a faint melody, yet it materialized as being so detached.
Well, what do you expect? Dane reprimanded himself silently. Of course her voice seems detached. The poor gal’s been murdered.
With not much else to tell Dane, Sparrow announced her departure. Guess I better go back now I hope you make it to a gas station before you run out of gas.
Dane protested. Go back? Where? Do you sleep?
I rest peacefully at the sight of my symbolic grave. Sparrow informed Dane. My funeral was in my home town but my family always comes out here to visit me so I just stay here most of the time.
Inquisitive as always, Dane detained Sparrow with more questions. Don’t you get scared out here after what that monster did to you?
Sparrow’s voice seemed even softer as she replied patiently. I have no fears anymore, besides what else can he do to me when he comes by? He’s already murdered me. There is nothing left to do.
Shocked beyond words Dane uttered profoundly, with a slight tone of jealousy. What do you mean, when he comes by? He visits you too? You talk to him?
No Silly! Sparrow enlightened Dane. I would never speak to him. He doesn’t even know I’m there. He just gets a thrill recalling the night he killed me. A lot of murderers revisit their crime scenes. Besides, as I told you earlier, I am fortunately unable to experience negative emotions, such as fear or heartbreak.
Oh, yeah! I forgot. Dane slapped his forehead. You lucky girl, you!
Sparrow made another attempt to depart. You really need to get some sleep. You might have a bad day tomorrow if you run out of gas. I would really enjoy visiting with you again though, when you come back from your brother’s.
Dane knew she was right. He also knew he would come back and visit Sparrow again on his way home. Okay! he said resignedly. And thank you for the coins. I’ll repay you in fig bars.
Sparrow giggled ever so delicately as she disappeared with a whirly swish Dane swore he could almost see. Thinking of Sparrow as a Genie in a bottle, he fell asleep quickly.
Upon awaking the next morning, Dane felt a renewed zeal for life. For awhile he simply lay in his hard bed awake, gathering his senses of where he was, why he was there, where he was going and bang! All the saddened he realized he was in love for the second time in his life. With a Ghostly gal named Sparrow. Abruptly, he wasn’t sure whether to be happy anymore or sad. In fact, he even questioned the reality of what had taken place the previous evening. It all seemed so vague to him this bright and sunny morning. Nevertheless he decided to get back on the road. His only real worry at the present was his gas shortage. When he slid behind the wheel, the coins in the console glittering like silver in the sunlight reassured him that Sparrow had been real, at least as real as any ghost can be. As he approached the highway, he noticed a real estate sign posted at the edge of the turn off to the sandpit.
The sandpit is for sale? Dane questioned allowed. What a trip. I wonder how it would feel to own your own sandpit. Turning left onto the pavement, Dane became conscious of only his almost empty gas tank. Trying to remember what his state map had shown him the day before, he finally resolved to simply keep going east on the highway, all the while hoping gas fumes could carry his old pickup along if he ran out of the liquid kind.
Forty miles later his pickup began sputtering and choking its way to the vintage gas tank in front of some family owned combination gas station, cafe and four room motel. Dane gathered up his piggy bank funds and walked inside, desperately trusting the gas pump was not just an antique display. When the elderly man at the cash register offered to show Dane how to use the pump, he exhaled a loud sigh of relief. A short while later he was back on the road, relieved to have four gallons of gas in his parched tank. He knew they would easily glide his pickup the last few dozen miles to his brother’s place in Elftown.
Dane planned on staying in Elftown with his brother for a week or so, but after a few days he began to feel restless. After all, he and Paul had talked late into the nights, once going up the road to a tavern at the edge of town to imbibe themselves appropriately as young men do on such occasions as broken hearts warrant. As Paul ranted on and on thrashing out his anger toward his now x wife and how much he missed his little boy, Dane’s mind kept fluttering off to the west and Sparrow. Several times he came close to telling his story to Paul, but somehow the timing was not right. Once he had even blurted out the question, Paul, do you believe in ghosts?, just to have Paul come back with, What do ghosts have to do with anything?, before jumping back to the main topic of his divorce. Perhaps it was for the best, Dane discerned. His own true story was probably too complicated for Paul at this time of his life. Besides, Dane would feel a bit guilty talking about Sparrow and how excited he was to have met her when his brother’s heart was still aching over his x wife.
Regardless, Dane felt it was time to head back across the state. His brother, who ran his own medium-sized landscaping business had generously lent Dane enough to get him back home and tie him over until his first unemployment check was due. Besides he had a few job applications he wanted to pursue. Therefore, the fourth morning in Elftown, Dane shook his brother’s hand while wishing him the best, filled his gas tank and began his journey home. Catching a glimpse of a grocery store he remembered Sparrow’s fig bars. Thinking they would go stale or be consumes by ants and birds, he reluctantly bought only two packages. Heading up front to the register he passed some marked down plastic food containers. Impulsively he seized one of them figuring it would prevent any little critters from snatching Sparrows treats. On the way to his vehicle a few minutes later he be became concerned whether Sparrow would be able to retrieve them from the storage box. As he finally wormed his way through the small town he suddenly felt exhilarated in the knowledge he would get to visit his Ghostly girlfriend again soon. He would be able to ask Sparrow herself about the plastic food container, whether to put the fig bars in it or not. In fact, Dane was excited enough to push the speed limit in anticipation. He decided he would again spend the night in that sandpit as before.
Some thirty eight miles later Dane arrived at the white cross, Sparrow’s symbol of her previous life. Once out of his pickup, walking the dozen feet or so he found himself wishing that Sparrow was not a Ghost, that she had not ever died. He cursed the beast who had taken her life. Nineteen was too doggone young to have die. Such a horrible death to boot. As he stood there reflecting on the things Sparrow had told him five nights before, he wondered if she was aware of his presence.. Should I say something? Dane asked himself softly.
Sparrow, are you here? Dane spoke a bit louder than he had planned. Waiting for her to answer but not receiving a reply, Dane leaned closer to the cross. It’s me Sparrow, Dane. Remember? Still, no soft feminine voice materialized. Maybe she’s not here, Dane debated. Maybe she’s at her real grave in the cemetery. Dane had not even asked her where she had lived in real life. Making up his mind to wait for her, Dane took a seat on the desert floor. An hour passed by with Dane calling out to Sparrow every few minutes. He began to feel kind of foolish, sitting there cross-legged , holding two packages of fig bars. A few minutes later he began to feel the pains of hunger. He opened one of the sacks of fig bars, knowing somehow that Sparrow would’ve offer him some anyway.
As the sun fell slowly to the west, Dane began to doubt what he had been sure of earlier in the day. After all, Sparrow had seemed anxious to visit with him again when she had drifted off several nights ago. Why wasn’t she here now? Why wasn’t she responding to his greetings.
The sound of gravel crunching under tires behind him caught Dane’s attention. It was a highway patrol guy. Oh crap, he thought as he unfolded his lean body to a standing position. How am I going to explain sitting in front of this cross like I’m worshipping a Buddha with fig bars in my hands.
Good afternoon young man. The officer greeted Dane as he stepped out of his patrol car. His hand was casually positioned to withdraw his revolver from his holster if necessary. However when he observed only cookies of some kind clutched in Danes hands he seemed to relax somewhat.
Hello Officer. Dane replied in his friendliest voice. Suddenly concerned this cop would think he was Sparrow’s killer, he felt the need to fabricate a reason for his presence. I was getting a little drowsy so I decided to stop here for awhile and have a snack. It wasn’t a complete lie Dane consoled himself. I did do that five nights ago.
The Officer smiled pleasantly before commenting. Well, I’m glad you didn’t drive yourself into a grave like this person probably did. He motioned to the cross nearby. Vaguely Dane wondered why he didn’t know a girl had been murdered here. There couldn’t be that many policeman in this remote area he reasoned.
Following a brief chat about safe driving and the weather, the Officer departed, accelerating west toward the mirage on the heat drenched highway.
Relieved he was gone, Dane went to his truck for a bottle of water before returning to Sparrows symbolic grave. He called out a few more times before deciding disappointedly to leave her treats in the plastic container and head on home. The sun was almost half way over the distant mountain range and Dane did not really want to drive all the way home in the dark. Just as he was entering his truck to leave, Sparrow’s chime sounding voice echoed around him.
Wait!, the chime-like voice echoed. It’s me, Sparrow. Don’t you want to visit anymore?
Danes heart fluttered with delight. Sparrow was at her symbolic grave after all. Why had she waited so long to answer him? Dane contemplated as he rushed back to the sagebrush bordering the highway. Asking her this a few moments later, Sparrow informed him.
I can only come out to visit after the sun has partially disappeared behind the mountains to the west. She spoke pleasantly.
Scratching his head as a gesture of puzzlement, Dane decided not question why. He was too happy to finally be able to visit with her again. Seated cross legged again, he told her about his visit to Elftown and his brother Paul’s painful dilemma. A vehicle on the pavement behind Dane whizzed by. Annoyed at the intrusion, he vaguely recalled several cars had gone by and wondered why the remote highway had suddenly become so populated.
Sympathizing, Sparrow paused without speaking for a moment, then made a suggestion. If you were going to camp at the sandpit again, we could meet there.
Wondering how Sparrow had guessed what he was thinking, Dane agreed and hopped into his pickup for the short ride to camp. Sparrow was already there when he arrived, ready to chatter with him in earnest.
Did you know this place is for sale?, she asked Dane. Remembering the For Sale sign, Dane laughed. Yeah! Can you imagine? Why would anybody want to buy a sandpit, let alone own one in the first place?
Sparrow chimed in, Well, it’s not just a sandpit. There is a real nice little cabin, back down the road behind here. And a total of forty acres to go with it.
Including the sandpit? Dane asked as if that was the important part. I wonder how much they want for it all.
Sparrow roused Dane’s interest further when she announced smugly, I know how much they want for it all, and if you have a flashlight I can show you the cabin.
This was beginning to sound like fun beyond description to Dane, however he was also curious to how Sparrow knew all this. Figuring he could ask her, he offered her a ride to the cabin.
Sparrow laughed a melody before telling him, I don’t need a ride Silly. I can fly like most Ghosts do.
I’ll beat you there! Dane teased her before realizing he did know for sure where it was.
Knowing she could be there in an instant, Sparrow didn’t tell him as she didn’t want to hurt his pride. Instead, she announced playfully, Just stay on the dirt road and follow my twirl.
Not sure how her twirl would visualize itself, Dane found his way to the dusty road in back of the sandpit and idled in his pickup for a few seconds. Before his very eyes, a wee misty blue tornado shaped image appeared in the glare of his headlights. Not wanting to offend Sparrow with his headlights, he switched to the parking lights instead. Sparrow’s blue neon glow floated gently within a few feet of the desert road as she guided him around a bend to the left which led to the edge of a canyon. Dane glanced upward for an instant at the silhouetted edge of the towering canyon against the starry sky. With the assistance of Sparrows bluish glow and the yellow glare of his truck lights, Dane observed the wooden structure within the shelter of numerous juniper and aspen trees. Emerging from his pickup he stopped to listen, hoping Sparrow’s wind chime voice would penetrate the silence. However first, the sound of a nearby stream greeted his ears. Wow, this place is beautiful. Dane said breathlessly.
You should see it in the daytime. Sparrow offered enthusiastically. It’s so lovely that I come here once in a while and perch on boulders by the stream to meditate. Sometimes I wish I was still a human form, so that I could buy this place myself.
Struck again by the sadness of Sparrows demise, Dane tried in jest to console her. Awe, you wouldn’t have wanted to live out here by yourself anyway, would’ve you?
The tinkle of her voice replied. I know it is hard to believe or understand, Sparrow continued. but yes! I would have. My love for the wilderness is a trait I was born with, a characteristic that was in my blood, so to speak.
Walking beside Sparrow’s illuminant twirl to the front of the cabin, Dane switched on his flashlight to peek in the windows.
I’ll go inside and unlock the door for you. She whispered before disappearing through the clapboard wall behind the tiny porch. Within a split second, the creaky wooden door swung open, revealing again Sparrow’s familiar hazy glow. Dane thanked her as he entered the cabin. With the beam of his flashlight directing him, he explored the confines of this cozy little place somebody had once called home. A huge braided rug covered most of the hardwood floor of the front room. Approaching a door shaped opening near an antique cast iron woodstove in the back corner, Dane noticed there was a small kitchen about the size of a walk in closet. He turned, the flashlight beam revealing two closed doors on the far left wall.
Those are both bedrooms. Sparrow said shyly.
Okay! Dane said casually, not wanting to embarrass his new friend by going into either of them. Where’s the bathroom?
Sparrow’s casting glow quickly exited the still opened door of the cabin and then moved to the right. Right there. Her voice echoed within the crisp darkness of the canyon walls. Using the yellow beam of his flashlight, Dane spotted an outhouse a hundred feet up a pathway into the canyon.
Oh, okay! Dane thanked Sparrow, wondering how much the owner wanted for this cabin and acreage. Disappointedly he returned to a state of reality, recognizing the fact that it did not matter, that the price was irrelevant. Dane hardly had enough money to last him until he landed another job. He didn’t need to thinking of buying this cabin and it’s adjoining sandpit. Sure would be nice though he sighed wishfully.
Sparrows next utterance renewed his fantasy of ownership. The owner is trying to get what he can for the place of course, but he admitted he is anxious to rid himself of it and will sell it real cheap.
How does she know all this, Dane pondered aloud, forgetting that the bluish neon twirl could hear him.
Sparrow then revealed the answer. Because, one early morning before I returned to my Symbol, I saw an SUV drive back here. It had a real estate emblem on the side of it. I was curious so I drifted along behind them.
Dane rested his head on his fist as he listened to Sparrow in amazement. Then I perched on this tree trunk to listen while they walked the property and talked. The realtor guy told the owner he might have a hard time selling the property because it’s so far out, and that unless some hunting party group wanted to join each other in a time share type thing, it might go unsold for a long, long time.
he was beginning to shiver from the nippy cold. Sparrow noticed and suggested they get in the cab of his truck and turn the heater on. A few minutes later, Dane wheeled his pickup backward to the end of the drive, the south towards the sandpit. How ‘bout I just give you a ride?, he offered Sparrow. No need for you to freeze out there.
The jingle of Sparrows laugh filled the cab of Dane’s truck. Silly, I’ve told you I don’t get cold.
Do you ever get hot? Dane enquired before blushing at his own question.
Sparrow’s neon glow seemed to turn brighter as she giggled softly. You are a real flirt, you know!
Yeah, Dane agreed., but it’s always by accident.
Spurring him on, Sparrow permitted. Well, then have more accidents because I personally think it’s adorable when you do that.
Dane shifted his gears into park at the sandpit, keeping the engine running for heat. Adjusting his long legs to turn sideways in his seat, he sat quietly while he studied Sparrow’s twirl. Serenely, she remained quiet also. Both of them seemed to be savoring the moment.
Can I kiss you? Dane asked hesitantly.
You can try. Sparrow consented, her blue glimmer seemingly leaning towards Dane.
Closing his eyes, Dane leaned over the intruding console with puckered lips. He was startled to discover the texture and sensation of a very real kiss. At that very moment he was consciously in love with Spirit Sparrow.
His mind twirled right along with Sparrows radiant twirl. What the heck did I get myself into? Why didn’t my mother warn me about Ghostly girls?
Dane!, the delicate voice whispered. Dane, I think I am in love with you.
Me too! Dane countered with overwhelming desire and emotion.. I mean, I am for sure in love with you Sparrow.
Enough to marry me? Sparrow asked shyly.
Without even a query to how he could marry a ghost, Dane pressed on. But I don’t even have a job Sparrow. I wouldn’t be able to support you.
Sparrow’s laugh was a bit more boisterous than usual as she informed Dane. You don’t need a job to support me Silly. I’m finely taken care of where I am, as a ghost. You can live off the tokens those first-rate travelers leave for me.
Where would I live Sparrow? Dane asked despairingly. There’s no way I could ever save enough to buy this place, even if I had a job.
I will take up a collection. Sparrow eagerly offered. None of my ghostly family needs the coins people leave at their Symbolic graves up and down the highway, so they just give them to their ancestor children to play with as tokens.
Don’t they worry about the kids choking on those coins? Dane asked. Sparrows chuckle reminded him there was no negative happenings in her ghostly world.
Dane wanted to keep Sparrow there with him all night, but she declined sweetly as she yawned an especially enthusiastic jingle. Announcing she needed to get some rest before guiding her way through all the nearby ghost villages to gather up the necessary tokens, her lovely twirl swished itself rapidly through Dane’s windshield leaving a foggy mist on the glass.
Gosh! Dane expressed disappointedly. She didn’t even kiss me goodbye. Within five minutes, Dane was snuggled down low in his sleeping bag, pondering over his unique situation before slipping into dreamland.
The following morning, Dane left soon after awakening. He knew Sparrow would be too busy to visit him, even she had been able that hour of the morning. All the way home he mulled over and debated with himself to what he could do to contribute to his and Sparrow’s future and how he could possibly buy those forty acres near Sparrow’s symbolic cross. The prospect of the whole idea brought joy to his heart, yet Dane’s realistic side told him it would not be possible.
As soon as Dane arrived at his studio apartment in town he checked his phone messages.
Hey Dane! , his brother’s husky voice called out. As soon is get home, give me a call, okay? Bye.
After listening to a couple more short messages, Dane decided to take a shower and fix something to eat before calling Paul. While lathering his curly blond hair, he wondered why Paul was calling. They had just visited a few days before. Maybe he and his wife were getting back together, Dane speculated as he dried himself with a huge burgundy towel.
Taking his leisurely time calling Paul, Dane scanned his refrigerator for anything edible. The package of bologna was edged with a green tinge so he threw that out. Settling on scrambled eggs and toast, he began preparing them. The phone rang again. It was Paul.
Hey Brother! Paul sounded bright and chipper. Jenny wants us to get back together. Happy for his brother, Dane replied, Great, congratulations Paul. I know this is what you have hoped for, a reconciliation. Perhaps now would be a good time to reveal his own secret love, Dane pondered briefly. However, Paul’s next words stopped him.
Heck no! Paul exclaimed. No way am I going to take her back now, not under these circumstances.
As was his usual habit when he was confused, Dane ran his fingers through his hair. Why Paul, did you meet somebody else?
Yeah! Paul teased Dane further. Her name is spelled M-O-N-E-Y. By this time Dane was one hundred percent perplexed. Dropping a shelled egg on his bare foot, he felt the cold slime slither wickedly to the spaces between his toes.
Okay Paul, he spoke sharply to his brother in annoyance. Knock off the crap and tell me what’s going on.
Ignoring Dane’s tone of voice, Paul announced gleefully.
The day you left Elftown, I went back to the tavern to juggle few drinks and bought me five lottery tickets out of pure boredom. One of ‘em made me rich.
Suddenly Dane wasn’t hungry, but he was overjoyed and ecstatic for his brother. It was about time his luck turned for the better. Oh my gosh! He proclaimed. How rich?
Rich enough to not have to work anymore. Paul laughed jovially.
Well, what about your landscape business? Dane inquired. What are you going to do with it?
Paul then revealed an idea to his brother Dane. Dane could move to Elftown, run the landscape business for Paul and receive a decent salary. Dane flopped onto his battered sofa, his mind whirling in a dozen different directions. Sparrow, the cabin in the desert, moving to Elftown and Paul’s winning the lottery all tried to fall into a category of his brain labeled organization and focus.
Well Brother, Paul’s voice boomed out. Whatta ya say?
I’ll be there in a few days, Dane answered enthusiastically before setting the receiver down . And thanks for the job. He almost grabbed the phone again to call Sparrow with the good news. Then he began to laugh hysterically; for thinking he could do so, for knowing he was now employed again, for realizing he might be able to buy that desert paradise near Sparrow’s cross and for the joy of simply being in love with Sparrow,his Ghostly Girl. He even laughed at the gooey raw egg all over his foot and the kitchen floor.
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