Jace slammed the cabinet door shut, running away with glee. He darted out of the kitchen and slid under the living room table. He looked back to see the panicked man scrambling about the kitchen, searching every nook and cranny.
Inching his way out from under the table, Jace slinked to the start of the hallway, being sure to avoid the eyeline of any mirrors along the way, as he’d been instructed to time and time again. Jace bit his lip in excitement and reached for the light switch. He flicked the switch up and down over and over, giggling to himself as the man stared at the flickering light bulbs.
Where Jace’s face emitted joyous fun, the man’s exuded terror. His eyes went to the light switch and saw it shifting. Jace knew the man couldn’t see him and thought how funny it must have been to see the switch moving by itself.
“JACE!” a voice called from outside the house. The boy stopped flipping the switch and dashed through the wall.
A large figure, who Jace knew to be Mr. Cyrus, floated at the edge of the driveway. Other ghosts stood outside their respective houses up and down the street. Jace was smaller than the other ghosts. He always felt their sad eyes on him. He’d stick out his tongue playfully if anyone held their gaze long enough.
Jace forgot to check for the moon. Every month at the full moon, Mr. Cyrus would stop by and see how everyone was coming along with their assignments. He was always disappointed with Jace, though the boy cared little.
“Good evening, Jace,” said Mr. Cyrus. “How are you?”
Mr. Cyrus possessed rounded features. His nose, cheeks, and belly were all circularly-shaped. Upon meeting him, Jace had wondered out loud how a ghost could be so fat without ever eating anything. Like most children, he had no sense of why this was inappropriate.
“Hello,” Jace answered. “I’m fine.”
“Still tormenting the poor man?”
Jace looked at the ground and did not speak.
“Need I remind you that this is not your assignment?”
“It’s not torment,” said Jace. “We’re playing hide and seek. He likes it.”
“Does he?”
“Yes,” said Jace. “He leaves the cabinets open for me to slam when I’m ready to hide and looks for me all over. Either he likes hide and seek or he likes being haunted.”
“You must stop this ghastly behavior at once,” Mr. Cyrus replied. “It’s antics like these that give us ghosts a bad reputation. Slamming doors. Turning lights on and off. It’s foolhardy pranks that create the false perceptions of fear and terror of the ghostly world.”
“You’re not the boss of me,” Jace said in typical childishness.
“As I’ve told you before, I am your supernatural supervisor, which means I am. All I want is to see you complete your task.”
“I just want to play,” said Jace. “I don’t care what you want.”
“Quiet,” Mr. Cyrus snapped. Jace directed his eyes back to the ground. Mr. Cyrus softened. “I’m sorry, Jace. I’m not accustomed to guiding such a young ghost. A six-year-old is quite uncommon here.”
Mr. Cyrus took a beat and glanced at the ghosts up and down the street.
“Did you notice that Mrs. Clement is not out tonight?”
Jace looked to the driveway across the street where his neighbor usually waited with him. She had looked ancient to Jace’s young eyes, likely in her nineties. She always greeted him with the softest of smiles. But tonight she was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is she?” Jace asked.
“She has gone on,” said Mr. Cyrus. “She’s fulfilled her destiny in this phase of her existence.”
“Destiny?”
“Her purpose. Her reason for being here. All ghosts have one. Even you, little one. We are here because we still have some service to provide those we leave behind.”
“How did Mrs. Clement do that?”
“She brought comfort to her home.”
“I just want to play, though.”
“Then you will stay here for centuries, playing the same games, never seeing what lies beyond.”
“And what lies beyond?”
“Rest.”
“I don’t want rest,” Jace said.
“It is not about what you want,” Mr. Cyrus said, pointing to the house. “It is about what he needs.”
“But I told you he likes it.”
“Even if that were true, it’s not helping him,” said Mr. Cyrus. “You must put aside what you want and look for a way to help him. Like Mrs. Clement.”
“But how?”
“That is for you to discover,” he answered. “You can start by ceasing with the cabinets and lights. Show yourself to him in a different way.”
Mr. Cyrus’s words lingered in the night air. The other ghosts were trying their hardest not to stare and eavesdrop. Jace was hunched over with his eyes back on the ground.
“Sorry, Mr. Cyrus,” Jace said.
“That’s all right,” he replied. “Now run along back to the house.”
Jace nodded and turned to go.
“See you next month, Mr. Cyrus,” Jace said, looking back over his shoulder.
“I hope not,” he said somberly to himself as he waved.
Jace moved through the wall again to find the man looking sad, seated on the floor. Jace thought he must be upset because they had to pause their game. Forgetting the conversation he’d had moments ago, he ran to the cabinets that had been opened again in his absence.
He was about to slam one of the doors when he heard the man whimpering. He came around to the living room and saw tears streaming down his face. Jace remembered his charge to help him and opted against his usual game.
Two days went by without any of Jace’s games. He resigned himself to observe. Each day the man made sure to leave the cabinet doors open. His eyes searched every corner of his home. He turned violently at the subtlest sound. Jace nearly caved many times to the man’s bait, but restrained himself.
On the third day the man seemed to abandon his search. With a heavy head he walked through the kitchen, closing the cabinet doors. Defeated, he sat at the kitchen table.
“Please,” he whispered through tears. “Don’t go. Haunt me. Exhaust me with fear. Just don’t leave me.”
The boy ghost felt the man’s sadness. He longed to bring him some joy, but he knew his usual games would not achieve that end. He had ignored the terror on the man’s face when he played previously. He had no notion of how to trade the fear for comfort.
Then Jace had a thought and moved toward the man. He opened the cabinet door closest to where the man sat at the table. The man noticed immediately and stared in shock at the open cabinet. Jace walked to the next one and opened it as well. Then the next and the next until he crossed the whole kitchen. The man stood and followed the trail of open doors. When he reached the end, he looked around the house, waiting for more. On cue, the hallway light began to flicker. The man walked to the start of the hallway. As soon as he reached it, the next light at the end of the hallway flickered.
The man hesitated.
The familiar fear had gripped his face. Jace could see that the man did not want to go any further. He knew it was because of the room at the end of the hallway. When Jace had finished playing and wanted a break he’d come into this room. The man never followed him in there. Jace slowly opened the door, providing another nudge of instruction.
Jace entered the room, not bothering to see if the man followed his prompting. It had a small bed in the corner. Toys were strewn about everywhere. Cars, blocks, and little soldiers littered the floor. The ceiling was covered with glow-in-the-dark stars. Across from the door, a full-length mirror was mounted to the wall. Jace crossed the room and sat in front of the mirror.
The boy ghost kept his eyes locked on the reflection of the empty doorway, waiting for the man to find his courage. Jace heard a small step, and then silence. After a moment, another step. It was a slow, excruciating wait. It felt like another round of hide and seek when the seeker is inches from the hiding spot, only this time the thrill of maybe being caught was replaced with the terror of actually being seen.
Another footstep resounded just outside the doorframe. Jace heard a long exhale, and then the man appeared. He barely looked around the room before a jaw-dropping shock struck his face.
“Jace?”
The boy waved into the mirror. A smile burst forth from the man’s lips and fresh tears flowed from his eyes. He rushed across the room and knelt down next to Jace in front of the mirror. He extended his hand towards where the boy sat but it passed through a void of air. When the man looked next to him, all he saw was an empty space, but when he looked in the reflection he could see the boy just as he used to.
“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I’m so sorry. I…I…couldn’t protect you…or your mom.”
“It’s okay, Daddy,” Jace said. “Don’t cry.”
But the man could not hear him. Only Jace could hear the man. The man seemed to understand this.
“Has it been you all this time? Running around the house?”
Jace smiled and nodded.
“Hide and seek again?”
Jace nodded again. They both chuckled together.
“You were always so good at hiding,” his father said. “Even when I found your hiding spot you were so quick I barely had enough time to reach out and catch you before you ran off to another spot.”
The tears ran anew from his eyes. Jace didn’t know how to feel about his father’s fragile state. He’d always been a source of strength and safety for the boy. Jace looked around the room, scrambling for an idea to make his dad feel better.
He spotted something and scurried across the room. His dad watched him through the mirror as he rummaged through a pile of toys. Jace found what he was looking for and returned to his father’s side.
Jace extended a toy toward his father. The man looked away from the mirror and down to the floating object in front of him. It was a small, wooden bear. He had bought it for Jace on a family trip when the boy was only three years old. When Jace woke up scared of bad dreams, his father had set up the bear next to his bed and told him that it would protect him.
The father and son locked eyes in the mirror. As the man took hold of the bear, Jace felt an unusual warmth surround him. Based on the look on his father’s face, he felt it too. The two sat in solemn silence together as his father thumbed the toy bear.
“Thank you,” his father said.
Jace smiled back at him. He then felt some unknown force pulling at him to stand. His father looked up at him in the mirror.
“Do you have to leave now?”
Jace nodded once more.
“How about one more game of hide and seek?”
Jace’s expression exuded ecstasy. He was about to dart for the door before his dad called out for him to wait. He obeyed and turned back to the mirror.
“I just want you to know that no matter what, I’ll always come find you. I promise.”
Jace smiled at his father.
“Now go find a spot while I count.”
Jace obeyed and sped through the house. He settled into his favorite hiding spot and listened as his dad’s voice trailed away, counting to ten as Jace eased into a gentle rest.
Tyler Chimento is a writer with a love for literary and speculative fiction. His stories often center on the introspective and emotional journeys of his characters. Tyler is also a voracious reader, drawing inspiration from inspiring stories regardless of their genre. Originally from Austin, Texas, he lives in Northwest Arkansas with his wife and their three children.
Featured image by Isabella Fischer on Unsplash.
