Page 58 of Earthly Ties

“That’s different.” I frown. Angel always pretends everything is perfect. Even when Mom went missing, his posts were too cheerful and optimistic that she’d be all right.

His selfie is followed by a video of him, visibly distraught, posted a few hours ago. “Today is probably the hardest day I’ve ever experienced.” His voice is hoarse, and he talks like he’s utterly defeated. “It’s sinking in realizing I’m all alone now. My dad died when I was a baby. My mom’s been missing for years and was declared presumed dead last year. And now my sister’s missing persons case has gone cold.” Angel shakes his head, covering a sob with his hand. “That’s my whole family. And I’m the only one left. Birthdays are supposed to be a celebration, but who do I have to celebrate with? What do I have to celebrate?”

This is followed by another video—this time with fewer tears, but Angel’s face is still haggard. “Thank you to everyone for reaching out. It’s nice to know I’m not alone in the world. I have you guys, my fans. My life is so blessed, and I have to remember that. I’m going to spend my birthday praying for Lucy and my parents. My mom always told me what a blessing I was to her when times were hard, and y’all are what keep me going, like I did for her. I hope your blessings keep you going, too. You’re someone’s blessing—my blessing—so remember that when everything seems bleak!”

Esther and I sit in silence after his video ends. Eventually, Esther whistles low. “Your brother is going through it.”

I swallow heavily, stunned by my brother’s vulnerability. “I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“Want me to reach out to him?” She goes back to Angel’s main page, where he’s just posted the picture that Esther found in my belongings. The one with Dad holding me, holding infant Angel. Another emotional caption of him counting his blessings, and how we’re watching over him. Comments are already in the hundreds. Some are bots, but a surprising amount are hearts and genuine messages of support.

I sigh. “Part of me wants to say it’s bullshit. He treated me like shit his entire life. But he learned that from Mom, and I don’t want him to end up a ghost like me or our parents. So yeah, can you reach out to him?”

With a nod, Esther sniffles. “What would you like me to say?”

“Honestly, you’re better at this shit than I am. What do you usually say to your family? ‘Hope you’re well, thinking of you,’ that kind of stuff?”

Esther furrows her brow. “That could be a little disingenuous if I tell him that. Apples and oranges, you know? They’re the ones who cut me off, whereas he’s the one who’s been cut off.” She holds up a finger before I can protest. “I know, it’s not your fault that you’re…you know, dead, but I would feel abandoned in his shoes.” She groans in annoyance. “I hate that I’m empathizing with someone who called me a chubby six.”

“So what would you want to hear? In his shoes?”

Her foot bounces as she thinks for a moment, before Esther gives up with a wince. “Could I turn that back on you? You know his shoes better than I do.” She glances in my direction. She’s staring too far to my left, so I move over where I can pretend she’s looking me in the eye.

Her nervous energy is more understandable, now that I have to turn my concern for Angel into words; after several moments of consideration, I’m ready to give up without trying. But this may be my only chance to tell Angel what I’ve always wanted to hear. The one time he’s broken enough to listen to someone other than Mom. The only moment where I’m empathetic enough to comfort the brother who made my life hell. “I’d tell him that I’m sorry his family isn’t there for him anymore, and he should find more people to care about and who care about him. That I would want him to be happy and loved. That our parents would want him to be happy and to enjoy everything life has to offer. That it’s not too late for him. That he doesn’t have to be alone.”

Message sent, Esther looks up from her phone with tears in her eyes. “You’re not alone, Luce.”

“Neither are you.” I ground myself and squeeze her shoulder. “But it is too late for me. I should have tried harder when I was alive.” I scoff softly. “Maybe I wouldn’t have ended up in this situation if I had someone to split the damn box of wine with!”

“I would have loved to split the box of wine with you. Even if you drank bitter-ass red wine.” Esther smiles weakly, looking up at me. “And is it too late for you? For us? I mean, you’re here! I can talk to you!” Her eyes trace down my body and back up to my face. “I can see you, just a little, but enough! Maybe you’re not as dead as you think you are. We have a chance, an opportunity—”

“An opportunity for what? To haunt you? To what end?” I keep talking before she can answer my hypothetical question. Her relentless hope isn’t helping her, not with this. “I can’t be what you need, Esther. You deserve to have a normal life, meet someone brave enough to actually answer your questions or kiss you when you’re awake. Someone…alive. Who can love you the way you deserve.”

“We have a chance to love each other now!” Esther frowns, blue eyes still digging into mine.

As much as I want to escape the silent demands she’s making of me, the questions she doesn’t need to voice, I can’t bear to look away. I shake my head. “We missed that chance when I died.”

The moment hangs heavy between us. As much as I want to disappear, I can’t bring myself to lose focus. Not when her blue eyes are staring into mine like this. Not when I know it’ll break her heart for me to vanish from sight. Faint as I may be, my visibility is a lifeline for her, and I will not withdraw that, as vulnerable and exposed as I feel.

A buzzing sound breaks the tension, and I disappear the moment her eyes flick away to the phone in her hand. Angel replied to her message. I’m relieved for the excuse to hide from her harrowing gaze.

“He wants to see me again. To ask some questions about you. What do you think?” With a gasp, Esther looks up, eyes widening in distress when she can’t see me anymore.

“I’m here, Esther,” I reassure her softly.

I always will be, as long as she needs me.

Poor Choices

“Well, that was an awful birthday present.” With a loud creak and a ringing clang, Lucy shut the wrong gate behind her. She frowned in disgust over her shoulder. “That was just my past. Why would anyone want to go there?”

The cloud zipped through the purple grass to Lucy, spinning in circles as it zoomed around her legs like an overly excited puppy. Still woozy from the wine, Lucy waited until the cloud calmed down enough to finally let her clamber on. Dream or not, she was still very drunk—trying to jump onto the cloud like she had earlier would have been unpleasant. Flying through the glitter grass on it wasn’t any better. Flat on her back as the glittery fields and floating starlight, aurora bubbles and rosy clouds spun around her, Lucy sighed in relief when it finally parked in its usual spot by the pleasant gates.

“Strange I haven’t woken up yet.” Normally Lucy never slept this long, especially when she’d had this much to drink. “Perhaps the past is slower than the present. Honestly, every second with Mom is an eternity I won’t get back, and every one of those memories I just stepped into was awful. Even worse than the first time.” Lucy sat up on her elbows. “I wonder if there are gates that show my future, too? Or would the normal gates technically be future gates? Am I in like, some ideal version of the present? Is the dreamscape the most present the present can be? And the nice gate is my future?

“I’m asking questions like Esther now.” With a laugh, Lucy flopped back onto the cloud blanket. “I’m so fucking dramatic. Why am I talking so much? What was in that wine? Cloud, can you talk? Or make any sound? You’re obviously sentient, but how sentient? Does it bother you that we have dream-sex on you every night? Or since this is my dream anyway, maybe you’re just cool with that? Maybe you’re not sentient. Maybe you don’t get excited to see us. Maybe I’m just anthropomorphizing you. Dog-opomorphizing you? Or would it still be anthropomorphizing since dogs are also commonly anthropomorphized?” Lucy laughed again. “Now I really sound like Esther.”

In response, the cloud settled deeper into its spot by their canny gates.