The Haunting of William T. Jacobs by David Henson

In the days after the accident, William was haunted by fragments of that morning: the screech of tires, the screams and sirens, Robby’s crumpled bike on the pavement.

Grief came like waves of nausea, triggered by the school bus passing, the sight of the nine-year-old’s video games, the chocolate milk stain on the carpet, the half-empty box of pancake mix ….

Even the smallest conversations between William and his wife, Eileen, veered to their dead son. Sometimes William wasn’t even aware of who was saying what. It’s sunny today. That day, too. Do you need anything from the market? Bring back my boy. Guilt often bled into grief. I thought the cul-de-sac was safe. Sometimes there were knives. You should’ve been watching him.

Curtains moving in the draft from an air duct tricked William’s eyes into seeing their son. Robby’s toothbrush seemed wet one evening, prompting Eileen to tell William their son had just used it.

The couple both took bereavement leave from their jobs. She was in HR at a large corporation, a position that often demanded long hours and frequent travel, and he was a schoolteacher.

One night, William was awakened by Eileen’s voice. “Listen,” she said.

William sat up. “I don’t … what?”

“It’s those video game noises.”

William lay back down and told his wife she was dreaming. He heard her sigh.

Eileen woke up William again the next night. As he was about to assure his wife she was dreaming again, he heard faint explosions, beeps and other sound effects. He crept to the bedroom door. Silence. “We’ve got to pull ourselves together,” he said. “Force ourselves to eat better, get more sleep.”

“I know what I heard.”

William didn’t tell her he heard it, too — momentarily and, he thought, only in his mind. He slid between the sheets and lay awake the rest of the night, his heart racing, the pulse of blood in his ears sounding like tiny explosions.

The next morning, the couple was coming downstairs, heading out to visit their son’s grave. Halfway to the bottom, Eileen froze, and William nearly stepped through her. “Listen,” she said.

William paused and leaned forward. “Somebody’s here.…Wait, I’ll—” Before he could move, Eileen was at the bottom of the stairs.

“William, come quick. It’s Robby.”

William rushed toward his wife, who was staring at the spot in front of the TV where Robby used to sit hours, cross-legged, playing his video games. Sunlight slanting through the window illuminated house dust. As William watched, the dust motes swirled, and he thought he saw something that could be his son’s image. It was wispy and blurred at the edges, but the more William stared the more he saw Robby’s red hair, freckles, even the ears his son hadn’t yet grown into. William’s legs went rubbery.

Eileen moved toward the boy. “Careful,” William said. “Don’t startle … it’s not real …him… it might vanish.”

Eileen crept to the television. Whispering her son’s name, she reached for the boy, but her arms passed through the image. William collapsed on the sofa.

#

Eileen sat sipping coffee as William placed two plates of bacon and eggs on the table.

“I’m not hungry,” Eileen said.

“Try to eat a little. You’ve lost so much weight. You—”

“I don’t think I could keep it down.”

“Maybe we’re just overwhelmed… imagining things.”

“The same things?” Eileen cocked her head. “Tell me you don’t hear those sound effects from Robby playing a video game right now.”

William closed his eyes. “I do hear something. I guess it could be …”

“See what I mean?”

William followed Eileen into the living room.“He’s holding that game controller. Why can’t we touch him?” she said, rubbing her temples. “I suppose there’s a lot we don’t know about ghosts.”

And delusions, William thought. Still, as he looked toward the TV, he couldn’t stop himself from seeing his son.

The next morning, William was awoken by Eileen. “Robby was in our room a bit ago wanting breakfast,” she said. “Did you hear?”

William sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I … I think so. Pancakes?”

Eileen smiled.

William went downstairs and made three helpings. There was no sign of Robby’s ghost, so he put a plate by the TV.

“Maybe he’s feeling shy today,” Eileen said. “Let’s go back upstairs and take a nap.” 

… When William woke up, he was alone in bed. He went downstairs and saw Eileen standing at the kitchen sink. She was humming softly, her voice blending with the trickle of water. 

William’s heart ached for his wife as he watched her slosh a soapy cloth on a plate. Then he squinted, leaned closer, saw Robby and felt a chill. “It’s not possible. I—”

“What more proof do you need?” Eileen said.

William realized he couldn’t go on questioning his sanity. An idea struck him.

Friends knew what had happened to Robby. If they saw him, William and Eileen’s grief would become a public sensation. Strangers, however, wouldn’t know the difference. If they saw Robby, they’d think he was a normal little boy. It was time for a walk in the park.

Eileen said that she didn’t like the idea of a test, but she agreed to it. William went up to the bedroom to get his keys. When he came back downstairs, he couldn’t see Robby.

Eileen smiled. “He ran to the car already. I told him we were going to watch doggies play.”

William and Eileen drove to a park across town. William was seeing his son clearly now. Would anyone else? They walked through the grounds with Robby between them. William squinted from the bright, blue sky and felt a warm breeze. There was a pond with ducks. It was so nice, he almost forgot why they were there.

He looked at his wife, who seemed to be enjoying their stroll. Then she glanced between them. He saw her smile vanish and her eyes widen. “William … is Robby … he is. He’s fading!”

William looked down. He didn’t notice at first, but as he stared, the boy seemed to become blurry. Just then, a frisbee sailed between William and his wife. Did it pass through Robby or over his head? William couldn’t be sure— until a scream rang out a second later.

“Hear that?” Eileen said. “Let’s get out of here before there’s a scene.”

The couple did an about-face and headed back toward their car. But Robby seemed engrossed with a group of children laughing and shrieking.

Eileen knelt in front of Robby, and, her voice trembling, said it was time to go home. He turned and followed them. By the time they got to the car, William could almost see through the child. “We’ve got to get him home.”

Eileen opened a rear door for Robby.

William squealed out of the parking lot, raced through a yellow light and accelerated over a speed hump, rising in his seat. “Is he still fading?”

“Faster.”

When William pulled into the garage, the boy hopped out and ran into the house. A few minutes later, he was sitting in front of the television, playing a video game, his image back to normal.

“Now what do you have to say, William?”

“I can’t explain it, but, somehow, it … he … is real.” 

#

William and Eileen both were overdue to return to their jobs but were afraid to leave Robby home alone. What if he wandered off and got lost … or faded away? They considered locking him in his room, but that seemed cruel. Besides, even though they hadn’t seen him walk through walls, they assumed he could.

There was only one solution. One of them had to stop working. Eileen’s HR position was low-level, and her salary wasn’t that much more than her husband’s, but she had more opportunity for advancement.

“I have to quit teaching,” William said. “Maybe I can get a night job. Then—”

“A night job? With my crazy hours and travel schedule?”

“We’re barely keeping our heads above water as it is. We’ll never make it if I don’t bring in money somehow.” He started to turn the news on, but didn’t want to interrupt Robby’s game. His gaze shifted from the remote in his hand to his phone on the coffee table. An idea sparked in his mind.

He got a job pitching extended car warranties from home.

#

William’s remote sales job lasted only a couple months. He barely made enough to cover the cost of his phone and internet service. When his old laptop conked out, he bought a rebuilt one but sometimes spent hours trying to get it to upload data to the company he was working for. When his internet provider increased its prices, he began putting in more hours but still couldn’t break even. He and his wife agreed they should cancel their internet and his mobile service. Eileen needed to keep her phone for work.

William began spending his days doing housework, cooking … and juggling the finances. Sometimes he tried to explain the basics of managing a household budget to Robby, but the boy seemed uninterested.

William fell further and further behind in paying bills. One day, Eileen told him her boss was retiring. The day his replacement was to be announced, William baked a cake. He tried unsuccessfully to get Robby to write Congratulations! in icing. “That’s OK,” he told his son. “We’ll fib to Mom and tell her you did it.” He tried to tousle the child’s hair but, as always, his fingers flicked through the boy’s head.

That evening, Eileen came home, slammed the door behind her and began swearing. William put a finger to his lips and nodded toward the TV. Then he went into the kitchen and threw the cake in the trash. Robby kept playing his video game.

#

William’s financial situation continued to unravel. One day, he was studying unpaid bills he’d spread out like a game of solitaire on the kitchen table. “Are we going to make it?” he said to himself.

Eileen’s hand hovered above one of the invoices. “We have to pay the water company first.” Her hand waved over the other columns like a magician trying to make them disappear. “These we stall, negotiate …”

“The bank’s sent a final notice,” William said.  “They’re threatening to repossess our home.”

Eileen slumped into the chair across from her husband and lay her head on the table. “We could get a smaller place, an apartment even, but …”

“But would Robby come with us? This is the only home he ever knew. I’m afraid his … energy … whatever it is, wouldn’t last in a strange place.”

Eileen agreed they couldn’t risk leaving their house.

William negotiated better terms with the bank and cut expenses to the bone. He started going to the food pantry when Eileen was home. Despite his efforts, he fell behind paying the utility company. After several warnings, it shut off the gas and electricity. When winter hit, William piled blankets on the bed.

#

“She’s such a …” Eileen said one morning, shaking her head, phone in hand.

“You’re mother? What now?”

“When I started shivering, she asked what was wrong, I told her I was having a bad moment missing Robby. She said it was time I pulled myself together. She’s always been so … cold.” She sighed.

William saw the fog of his wife’s breath spew from her mouth. “Did you tell her about—”

“I haven’t told her anything.” Eileen began trembling so hard, she could hardly speak.“W- William, wh-what are we going to do?”

“We need to gut it out until … until … spring. You’ll get your annual increase, and we’ll think of … a thing … something.” William began trembling. “I’ll warm up the bedroom.”

“Be right there. I’m going to give Robby a cookie.” As William looked at his wife, she shook so hard, she seemed to blur.

William went into their room, in which there were candles of all shapes and sizes.

A couple minutes later, Eileen joined him. None of the candles were lit. William was clicking a lighter. “Out of frosting … fluid,” he said.

“We’re so fortunate the cold doesn’t bother Robby.”

William stared at his wife. She seemed to be fading. “Eileen, what’s happening to you?”

“I’m freezing, that’s what.”

William could almost see through his wife now. Image fragments stabbed his memory. A funeral. Not Robby’s. Everyone telling William how sorry they were for his loss. He looked at Eileen. “You’re dead.”

“Oh, William, no. It’s the cold getting to you. Us.”

Eileen continued to fade until William could see the dresser right behind her. He collapsed onto the bed and pulled a dozen blankets over his head.

Sometime during the night, William’s chattering teeth woke him. His first thought was of his wife. “I miss you so much, Eileen.”

“I’m with you, William. Until the end.”

Tiny explosions pulsed in William’s ears. Time to sleep, he told himself. Time to join my family.

#

It was one of those brilliant, cold February days when the police responded to a call for a welfare check.

The two officers, a man and a woman, found William and Eileen under a mountain of blankets and contacted the coroner. They remained at the house until he arrived.

As the officers prepared to leave, one paused by the television. “Somebody didn’t eat their cookie … Listen — hear that?” He stepped into the kitchen and quickly returned. “Water trickling so the pipes wouldn’t freeze, I guess. What would possess them to stay in this frigid house?”

The woman shrugged. “I was here earlier this year. A car hit and killed their son.”

As the officers left, sunlight streaming through the window illuminated dust motes. They swirled and settled to the floor.

David Henson

Image by Betânia Betânia from Pixabay A pile of cookies.