Chapter 2

Ashley gets an unexpected visit

“The last time I saw you, you were telling me about your ferret,” says Jordan. Her office is in the back of a small free clinic and every time I’m here there’s always the sound of running water but never once have I seen a fountain of some sort. It sounds like it’s coming from the halls but I swear it’s something they must be playing through speakers for whatever reason. I guess to be calming, since this is therapy after all. There’s a doll house behind Jordan's chair and a lot of other toys in bins off to the side. Whenever I don’t feel like talking we just play cards for an hour so that’s always nice. 

“Yeah,” I sigh, “I decided to put him down.” 

“Are you at peace with your decision?” 

“I’m not sure yet. I felt really bad the entire time but he was so sick I didn’t know what else to do.” 

“Decisions like that are hard, but you did what you thought was best.” 

“Yeah, I think so. I really like his vet, Dr. Mary. She gave us a free clay thing with his paw print so my mom and I baked it in the oven when we got home.” 

“That’s very nice. Do you like having that?” 

“Yeah, it’s nice. We’re gonna put it with his urn when I get his ashes back. There’s some of his fur on the clay so I thought he’d come back that night but he hasn’t yet so maybe I need his ashes. Sometimes it’s really hard to tell what it takes to bring them back. I just hope he’s not going to be trapped at the vet since that’s where he died.” Every time I mention ghosts, she grabs her laptop and starts typing away. I’d give anything to see what she’s writing, but I know whatever technical words she uses, they all translate to crazy.

She’s silent; choosing her words carefully. She does this a lot. Especially when I first started going to her. I was much quieter before and only spoke when she asked questions. Now I’m an open book but her job would probably be a lot easier if I wasn’t. Hi, I’m a boy named Ashley who talks to ghosts. I’ve had a lot of really bad s**t happen to me but I promise I’m not making up the ghosts as a way to cope. 

“Do you want to see him again?” Jordan asks.

I don’t answer right away. This is something I’m still not sure about. It’s just too impossible to know and it’s not like I can ask him. Not just because he’s not here, but also because he’s a ferret and can’t answer me anyway. It’s just like making the decision to put him to sleep. Just because I thought that’s what was best for him doesn’t mean that’s true. If he hates me and never wants to see me again I can’t blame him. And if I do see him again, I’ll love him forever. Even when I die we’ll be ghosts together. “I’m not sure,” is how I answer. “I miss him and I wish he never got sick, but I also want him to find peace, whether that means he comes back or not.” 

“Wishing peace for our loved ones can go a long way and it’s important to believe that they have found that peace, even if they’re a ferret.” 

“Yeah, I just really hope I did the right thing.”

“You can make peace for yourself too, and the other decisions you’ve had to make. It’s not about the past or even the future, but where you are right now.” 

“Can we not talk about that right now?” 

“Of course. We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.” She pulls out the cards and after a few rounds the hour wraps up and we schedule another appointment for next week after school. Since it’s just a free clinic I have to take what I can get but I prefer the sessions during class, like this one. 

Jordan walks me down the hall to the checkout counter and I still don’t see a fountain. I don’t even see speakers and I look for them every time. I check out and get a note to go back to school, but that’s not going to happen. I crumble the note into a ball before tossing it into the nearest trash bin. 

I don’t see the point in going this late in the day. I only have a couple of classes left and it’s not like I have any living friends, so I hop on my bike and head back home. My mom is working so as long as she’s too busy to answer her phone, she’ll never know.

It’s a cold day as I ride back home and the clouds are so dark it could start raining any minute but I make it back just in time. We live down the hall in room 117 and Carrie seeps her way through the walls and appears in front of me, her body frail and hollow. She doesn’t have much time to chat. I’m still not exactly sure how ghosts function and why some can stay longer than others. They’re all so different so the little testing that I’ve done doesn’t seem to bring any answers. 

“There’s a man in there with your mother,” Carrie tells me. 

That’s strange. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, at least not that I know of, and she’s not even supposed to be home right now. I press my ear to the door and sure enough, there’s a man in there. I can hear both of their voices. “Ashley is old enough to make his own decisions so you’re gonna have to ask him, not me,” my mom says and my stomach drops. Oh s**t. What did I do this time? 

“I will. I just need some time,” says the man and it’s not a voice I recognize.

“Well so far you’ve had sixteen years and I think that’s plenty of--” she gets cut off by the phone ringing. “Hold on. Hello?... Yes, this is she...are you sure?” I hear footsteps coming my way and before I can make my escape the door swings open and my mom is standing in front of me with her phone pressed against her ear. “Thank you for letting me know, goodbye,” she says before hanging up. She puts her hand to her hip. “You know they call when you ditch, right?”

I look past her to see the man and it’s enough to distract her from a lecture. All the color leaves from her face, and same with his. “Who’s that?” I ask. 

My mom rubs up and down her bad arm. “Ashley, this is Franky Diaz. He’s...your father.” 

He takes a step forward and waves awkwardly. Looking at the guy I very clearly take after my mother. Though, anyone can see my babyface and think that without needing to see him to compare. But still, it’s weird. Like he could not be more of my exact opposite if he tried. His hair is short and a natural black without even a hint of gray while mine is to my shoulders dyed blue. He’s tall like Carrie and built like a sports player and I am five foot five respectively. Not to mention both his shirt and pants look perfectly straightened like this is the first time they’ve ever been worn. Or I guess an easier way to put it is he has money and we don’t. 

“This...this isn’t how I wanted this to happen,” Franky says and his voice has a hint of a Spanish accent. 

“Yeah, I bet,” I reply. “Most dads like to meet their kids when they’re born.” The tension in here is thick as slime and neither of my parents have anything to say for what seems like forever until finally my mom excuses herself.

“I have to get back to work, so why don’t you two have a nice chat?” she says and rubs her hand down my arm before grabbing her purse and making her way out of the apartment. 

There’s just the two of us standing here and I don’t know how to feel or what to say, but I guess he does. Or at least he tries. “Ashley it’s so good to finally see you in person. I’ve seen pictures, through the years. You look so much like your mother.” 

“Um, thanks…” 

He takes a step forward. “Look, I don’t know how to say this so I’ll just come out with it. I am so sorry for not being there. I can’t even come up with an excuse because there is no excuse. As a father I should have done everything in my power to get to you, no matter what it took or what I had to do. I feel awful and I can’t even begin to understand how you feel. I completely understand if you hate me--”

“Okay.”

“Please, let me finish. I just...want to make up for all the wrong I have done in my life--to enter His house justified--and being selfish and not being there for you and your mother will always be the biggest regret of my life. But, I want to be here now. I know this is a lot to ask, but I would like to get to know you. Not just as my son, but as the man you’re becoming.” 

“Okay,” I say again. I don’t really know how to feel or how to act, and I don’t know if that’s from shock or from antidepressants. 

“I have an apartment that’s not far from here. The Oakland Lofts, if you’ve heard of it. I’d like to have you over. When you’re ready. We can start slow, of course. But I’d like to have you every other weekend and, you know, be a family.” 

“Okay,” I say again, and that simple word I’ve been repeating could not have made Franky happier. The color flushes back to his face and there’s a spring in his step as he comes closer to me. He reaches his arms out for a hug and I really wish he wouldn’t but I let him do it anyway. I’m a stick compared to him and his forearms feel like they’re going to snap me in half as he squeezes then pounds on my back like a gorilla. 

“Siento mucho no haber estado ahí para ti,” he whispers into my ear as I stand there tense and uncomfortable wanting nothing more than to disappear. Finally he lets go then stands there and smiles. 

And that’s how I agreed to spend every other weekend at the Oakland Lofts.

Author's Note

Polite constructive criticism is welcome!