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larissa-the-scribe · 2 months

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Terrarium Lights, Pt. 3.7

Previously on Terrarium Lights: so they know who the ghost is. What now? (Next part >>here)

Gail considered heading back to the lighthouse the next day, but, despite her seeming abundance of free time, she did, in fact, have duties to attend to.

She waffled about it over breakfast before deciding that Jonathon knew where to find her. Presumably, he wouldn’t have trouble coming here, since he had been here before and overall seemed in a decent state to travel.

It still all felt like a bit much, a dream where inexplicably you know all the answers but don't know why, and you’re stuck moving in accordance with it all until you wake up and go “what on earth?” She felt that she was moving like she should in this dream, as much as she knew how, but it was all rather disorienting. Maybe a day of cleaning and gardening and being in her own home would help her feel more grounded.

"I suppose other worlds are a little grander, beyond my thoughts," she said to the Lord as she prepared to sweep the house from top to bottom. "I don't quite know as I understand all that was told me yesterday, but, then again, I don't see as that I fully have to."

Half-way through sweeping the second floor, she leaned on her broom and chuckled to herself. "I suppose it is odd that I'd be right fine with the concept of a ghost, showing up in my own garden at that, but then balk at the idea of somewhere I didn't know of. Why, most of this world is a place I don't know, and I can't say that I properly know my own tiny little corner of it. You made all of the knowns and unknowns, and You know, and I'd say that's what matters in the end."

That satisfied her, mostly.

By the end of the day, she felt much better. More awake, and more content with the answers belonging to a dream. Sometimes you just had to accept things as they were. Perhaps she might know more some day, but that day hadn’t come yet. She’d just have to wait for it and keep her eyes open.

For now, she was helping a ghost that God had sent her, one who needed to get back into his body after he'd been lost in another world. Simple enough, in a way.

She didn't know how much she was truly helping, but Samuel—Jonathon, now—did seem to appreciate being able to talk to someone. At the very least, she was involved in the goings on, if only for emotional support.

At the end of the day, she was more tired than she anticipated being. Scrapping her plans of baking that evening, she contented herself with a simple egg sandwich, and once again headed to bed early.

***

She was awoken by insistent, though faint, knocking at her bedroom door.

It took her brain several seconds to realize, through a haze of sleep, what she was hearing, and that it wasn't any of her children—seeing as they had all grown up and moved out—and her husband wasn't there.

Gail sat bolt upright and reached for the double-barreled plasmagun Michael kept loaded and primed for her.

"Hello?" She asked, sleepiness blunting the tough edge she'd been going for.

"Um, hi," said Jonathon's voice from the other side. "I'm sorry if I startled you. Are you… um… awake?"

Gail shook her head to clear some of the cobwebs from them. Wrapping a shawl about her, she tumbled her way to the door. "Well, I am now," she mumbled, tugging the door open.

As her senses caught up with her and she could better see the windows in the stairwell, she could tell that it wouldn't be long before dawn broke.

"Ah… I… I may be a bit early," Jonathon said apologetically, gesturing in a vague manner with his hands. "It’s occurring to me now that I… don't really remember what sleep schedules are."

"Well, I usually sleep longer than dawn," she said, "but I suppose I'm awake now. How can I help you?"

"Oh, um. Well. I didn't want to go into your bedroom, so I wasn't really sure if you were awake. I… can come back later?"

Gail could feel aches in her bone, and a gust of cold threatening her from beyond her blanket. "I believe we may have to set some boundaries in the future," she said with a sigh. "But, as I said, I am awake now. I would have been in an hour or so, anyway. So, what's been eating at you?"

Jonathon looked down at the floorboards, shoulders pulled up to his ears. "Well… I found Samuel."

There was a haggard look in his eyes. Gail guessed that he may have been out searching for the past two nights. Ghosts—or Jonathons, at least— apparently didn’t need sleep, but whatever he’d been doing had taken a toll on him. She drummed her fingers against the edge of the doorframe. "Go sit down in the dining area, and I'll be dressed and down there in a tad."

Perhaps Gail should have been thinking more about the situation, but she was still foggy from sleep. Automatically, she dressed herself and washed her face and arranged her hair, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders to ward off the early morning chill.

She found Jonathon sitting on the table, his legs dangling and swaying ever so slightly as he stared into nothingness, shoulders hunched over.

It occurred to her that his eyes had been staying consistently colored lately. Hopefully that was a good thing.

Gail came down and half-sat, half-leaned on the table beside him.

"It's… um… it wasn’t a very nice sight." He said quietly.

"I see." Gail pulled her shawl closer.

"He's about half-way between here and the lighthouse," he said, “if you go along the coast. I found him this morning."

"How do you know it was him?" Gail asked.

"He was still there."

"Ah."

His shoulders hunched further into themselves. "I… I didn't know what to do. I ran away before he saw me. But… I think I heard him calling after me. And then I found myself here again. So I went to see if you were awake, and then…." He trailed off.

Gail chuckled. "And then, here we are."

"Sorry. I didn't know what else to do."

"It's fine," Gail patted his knee as best she could. "My children have often woken me far earlier with far less reason."

He gave a half-smile response that was more attempt than success.

"So, now that you've found him, what would you like to do?"

"I don't know." Jonathon buried his face in his hands. "I don't know if I can face him. I don't remember hardly anything, and I left him for several weeks, and I don't even know what our relationship ended up being like. What if I did something bad, and now he hates me, and I have no idea? If… if he's still here, is it because of that? Is he… is he dead, because of me?"

"You have only had positive things to say and remember about him," Gail pointed out. "Besides, consistently you’ve grasped ideas and feelings behind your memories, even if you don’t know the actual memories themselves. Hypothetically, that would indicate you would have far more negative feelings associated with your friend if something had gone wrong. So if you don't have any solid reason to assume something horrible happened, I'd say your fears are just working against you right now."

“That’s true,” he admitted glumly. “But also, there’s just… I don’t know. Even that aside, even knowing where he is… that should be a good thing. But it’s… not? It still is, but it doesn’t make me feel better. Which is a selfish way of looking at it, but… I don’t know. I can’t face him. I can’t go talk to him."

#wakey wakey eggs and an existential child #gail goffrey #the ghost #terrarium lights #inklingschallenge #inklings challenge #inklings challenge 2023 #team: lewis #genre: portal fantasy #theme: burial #theme: visiting the sick #story: finished #salt and light #scribe writes #scribe does inklings #first draft

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