There Is A Ghost Outside

Author:

A. R. Tivadar is a hobby writer from Romania and a graduate of the University of Oradea. She has been published in underscore_magazine, the Aurum Journal, Motus Audax Press, Firework Stories, miniMAG, The Expressionist, Pink Heart Mag, Cathartic Lit Magazine, Academy of the Heart and Mind & Alien Buddha Press.

Mirela looked out the window and saw him. There was a man standing in the field outside her new home, tall and unmoving. The overgrown wheat reached his waist. He stood with his back towards the window, so all she could see was the back of his head and his big, puffy shirt.
“Mom!” She called out.

 “What?” Her mom replied from the kitchen.
“There’s a man outside!”
Mirela’s mom walked up to the window and gazed outside.
“Where?” She asked.
“There!” Mirela said.
“Honey, there’s nobody there.”
Mirela furrowed her eyebrows. Her mom returned to her chores. She stared at the strange man for a while, then went to play. She played being a shopkeeper to her toys, selling them other of her toys. When she wanted to sell a lace dress she did not have, she grabbed a doily from the coffee table. With things she didn’t have substitutes for, she took scraps of paper and drew them to the best of her abilities.
Her dad came back home in the evening and kissed her mom. He kissed Mirela too, and while they went to the kitchen, she looked out the window again. The man was still there, having not moved an inch. Her dad couldn’t see him either.
“Honey, there’s nobody outside.” Her mom repeated. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m not scared.” Mirela said. “He’s just standing there.”
“You sound like grandma.” Her dad laughed. “She used to tell me she could see ghosts and spirits. Maybe you’re seeing a ghost too.”
“I know!” Mirela said. “I saw her too!”
“Grandma?”
“Yeah! At her funeral!”
“Oh, well, of course you saw her there!”
“No! She was standing next to her coffin. She waved at me too!”
“Can we please change the subject?” Her mom asked.
The next day, the ghost was still outside. Mirela’s parents bought the farm a few days ago. It had not been used for decades, both it and the house needing serious refreshing. Did they use to be his?
Mirela put on her puffy jacket and boots. “I’m playing outside!” She announced and walked out.
She walked down the cobblestone path of the yard where animals used to be. An old wire gate separated the yard from the field. There used to be flowers and veggies by the fence, tomatoes, pumpkins, peonies and dog roses, which her parents were planning to bring back. A dilapidated out-house marked where the garden ended and the wheat field began
There was a dirt path that led into the wheat field, slowly disappearing as the wheat grew taller. Nobody owned the farm in years, but the plants continued to grow, helped or not. Mirela blindly made her way through, the wheat reaching above her head, grasshoppers and bugs flying around her and in her face.
She stopped abruptly when she came face to face with a pair of old, brown pants. She looked up and recognised the man’s back. Mirela couldn’t stop herself and reached out a hand. It went through the man’s leg as if he was made of smoke. He had no reaction.
She walked around him to see his face. He was young, maybe a teenager. His face looked scared, his eyes darting around the horizon while the rest of his body stayed still. His dirty hands clutched his stomach, messing up his chemise.
“Excuse me.” Mirela began, not sure what else to say.
The ghost looked down at her, first his blurred eyes, then his entire face.
“Are you ok?” She asked.
“No…” He said.
“What’s wrong?”
“The sheep… I lost them…”
“You had sheep?”
“Only a few… they were all we had… I lost them… Father will kill me…”
“I haven’t seen any sheep anywhere.”
“You haven’t…?”
“No, my dad said people around here don’t keep sheep anymore. I’ve seen a lot of pigs, though! And cows! My parents want to buy a cow too, and chicken.”
“What will I do…?”
“Hey, are you listening?” She frowned.
“Can you help me find my sheep…? Please…” He said pleadingly.
“I can try.” She shrugged.
Mirela walked back home, shaking the dirt and thistles off her jacket. Where could she find sheep?
Later that day she went on a walk with her parents around the village that was her new home. They stopped a lot to talk with their new neighbours. They met the priest, the doctor, and her future teacher. Her parents said that when she would turn 8, she would start attending school too.
Some people’s animals were also outside, enjoying the evening. It was getting cold and days were shorter, but the grass was still green and lush. Mirela saw flocks of chicken, ducks and geese, with puffed up feathers and chubby bellies. She saw an old lady guiding her cow back after grazing. It was white and chocolate brown, with a golden bell. She saw cats walking along fences, and guard dogs sticking their noses under gates. No sheep, though.
The next day they visited a neighbour’s house, who lived right across the street. They ate cabbage rolls and honey cakes. As the lady was serving them, a dog sneaked inside the kitchen and tried to get a taste.
“Ragdoll! Get out!” The lady scolded.
It was a shepherd dog, very big and very hairy. Its fur was white and coily, and its nose was a black button. It looked indistinguishable from a sheep, except for the wagging tail.
“Oh, he’s lovely!” Mirela’s mom said.
“Yes, but he won’t listen to anyone!” The lady said.
“Can I play with Ragdoll?” Mirela asked.
“Of course! Knock yourself out.”
Mirela went into the lady’s yard and played with the dog, who was very happy to get attention. After running after each-other for a bit, Mirela sneakily checked if her mom was paying her any mind. Then she opened the front gate. Ragdoll chased after her, wanting to continue playing, and she led him to the ghost outside her home.
The ghost stood where he always was, staring in silent panic. He snapped out of it when Mirela arrived, struggling to catch her breath. Ragdoll arrived behind her, and became very stiff upon sensing the ghost.
“I found a sheep!” Mirela said.
The boy stared at Ragdoll for a moment. “That’s a dog.” He bluntly observed.
“But… he could be a sheep!”
The boy burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Mirela frowned.
“Nothing! Nothing!” He said. He looked transparent, as if he was fading away. He looked a little more relaxed too. “Thank you for trying to help me… You are very nice…”
“Thank you too.” Mirela said.
“I think I’ll go now… Father must be worried… I stayed too long…”
“Will you take Ragdoll with you?” She asked. Ragdoll looked scandalised by that suggestion.
“No, no, it’s fine… Goodbye, Miss…” He faded away.
“Oh, okay. Goodbye!” Mirela pouted.
The ghost was gone. Mirela ran back to her neighbour and returned Ragdoll as if nothing happened. When she and her mom walked home, they passed by the field again.
“Honey, is the ghost still there?” Her mom asked as she looked on at it.
“No, he left.” Mirela said.
“That’s good.” She said.
“He laughed at me.” Mirela grumpily said.