Jack and Sally*

The smell of the rain in the afternoon. The grass was beautifully green beneath my feet. I exhaled dramatically as the drops that covered the grass sneaked their way on to my toes. I kept walking to the wooden dock not far ahead, leading its way to the calm surface of the pond that I used to think to be magical. The juxtaposed wooden logs were rotten. But it had been rotten the first time I discovered the place years ago. No one ever renovated the dock, and the dock never let anyone down. Consistencies.

As I sat down on it, I saw myself. Not on the surface of the pond, but just approaching the dock, tiptoeing and giggling from the Peach Schnapps. She was wearing an old, shabby nightgown, but the blush on her cheeks looked radiant with youth and alcohol. Not far ahead of her on the dock, was him. He still wore his hair long and curly, he wore an eye patch and a flamboyant suit. Yes, he was the pirate because he refused to wear green tights.


"Come ooon, it won't fall down!" he taunted her holding a bag with a big trick or treat print on his hand. "Come here, or it'll be titanic for your candies!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming, I'm coming!"

She started to pace faster but he tapped his foot down the dock and the rotten logs made creaking sounds. What happened next was so fast, it was a spinning haze of blurry laughs and playful shoves, then she fell into the water. So did he. So did the bag of candies. But as they surfaced, the laughs were getting louder.

That was the first of the many hallow eves they spent on the dock. After a round of trick or treating, all hopped on sugar and tipsy from the schnapps, they always went to the little dock beneath the weeping willow, half-hoping they would see ghosts from the past dancing to the fellow ghouls' orchestra.

They never did. But I was seeing the ghosts of my past now, Wendy and Hook, playfully trying to drown each other down the pond.

A drop of rain shot circles to the water surface and dissolved the ghosts. I opened my umbrella once again and held it above my head. Another younger me came along. This time she was pulling a governess from the 60s, wore a hat, carried a duffel bag on one hand and--of course--an umbrella on the other. She went to sit down on the dock next to him, opened the duffel bag and started to munch on the assorted candies in it.

"Your costume is so lame," she said between chews. "You look like my dad."

He was wearing a nice suit, a tie and a trench coat.

"What, can't you tell? I'm Paul Varjak, you know, Breakfast at Tiffany's?" he said as if it was that obvious. "I thought you said you were going as Miss Golightly!"

"I said, it was either that OR Miss Poppins," she stopped to take a bite on the taffy and continued. "And I'm going as Miss Poppins. That's not the point, the point is, your costume is still lame."

"Well, Miss Poppins, I suppose if some lame Mister Varjak tried to shove you down the pond, your umbrella would elevate you before such unfortunate thing happened, right?"

"You wouldn't dare..."

"Yeah?"

And the rest was bright colored spots, pulsing for every heartbeat, every second that it skipped, repeated over and over but never got old. Never got old.

The spots faded and I didn't know how long it had been since the rain stopped. I was still holding my umbrella upright. I felt stupid, though no one was there to see me idiotically daydreaming. No one, and at that I felt a pang.

It wasn't always him who wore the lame costume.

His ghost resolved in front of me, smiling sheepishly. He wore gloves with artificial scissors implanted on them, black leather clothes and awfully teased hair. He looked straight at me with guilt in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, but not at me. I looked behind me and there she was--me.

"It was your idea to pull Edward Scissorhands," he continued. "You're the one who thinks Tim Burton is a god."

"I know," she said sulkingly. "I did not think this through. Edward Scissorhands costume IS super cool, hands down. I just failed to think that Kim would be so lame."

"You're not lame..."

"Yeah? No one remembers Kim from Edward Scissorhands. Everybody remembers Edward, but not Kim. Kim doesn't even have a last name!"

"Hey, hey," he takes her on his embrace. "I think you're still amazing. And if it makes you feel better, next time we'll try another Burton's, huh? Nightmare Before Christmas... You'd like that, right?"

"Nightmare Before Christmas!" She exclaimed. "Jack and Sally! Brilliant! That's like, the... The... Uber coolness!"

"Dork!" He teased. "What if we get married as Jack and Sally, huh? You like that, huh, snort snort."

"Yeah, like you would ever have the guts to face my dad to propose to me AND to propose the idea of Jack and Sally."

"Wanna bet? You know you suck at betting. Mark the place, mark the time, here, during the full blue moon."

"By this lake? Full blue moon? What a tale. Next thing I know, you'll have your dad ordained to marry us off."

"Yeah, I suppose I can ask my dad to do that," his eyes beamed as if it was the most brilliant idea of the century.

She poked him.

"Seriously, we'll do all that, then," he paused for a second before singing a verse from his favorite band which she frequently mocked but secretly liked. "We can live like Jack and Sally if we want, where you can always find me..."

The sharpness of the cold wind sliced through the ghosts and cut the song short. It was like in a movie, when you know something bad would come just by the sound of the wind.

I did not want to see the last pair of ghosts. I was Scrooge, dreading over the ghost of christmas to come. But they came anyway, wearing leather jackets. He wore skinny jeans and she wore slutty dress, rips and tears here and there. Some people had mistaken them for Sandy and Danny from Grease, and some others thought they were a pair of real cokeheads.

"I told you, going as Sid and Nancy would be too... Confusing," she said, fully aware that it might ignite some argument. But this time it was different, she knew. An argument which she knew wouldn't end with playful shoves and the usual gleeful skinny dipping session. The argument that would make or break.

"Uh huh," he grunted. "It was as if this town is too behind to ever hear about Sid and Nancy, right?"

"What was that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

They both fell silent for one excruciatingly painful minute, then,

"I just don't see why you have the need to move out of this town," he was bad at hiding or even holding his anger. "Are you too good for this goddamned place?"

"I never said that!" She practically screamed. "I want to see the world, I want to live every possible inch that this world has to offer! You've always known that and I thought you wanted it too!"

He was quiet. She continued.

"Come on, I thought this is what we've always wanted. Go on adventures after adventures, just you and me!"

"And what about school? I just got accepted!"

"Annul it, just come with me. We'll find other schools. Art schools in big cities."

"I can't. I'm not a rich brat who can just spend big money on something and ditch it easily!"

As the words came out, he hated himself as he saw his monstrous reflection on her glassy eyes.

"That was really uncalled for," she stifled a sob.

And next there was a whirlwind. No longer filled with blurry laughs and bright spots. It was made out of fears, and hate, and bitter feelings. And everything moved on fast forward. The next fights, the tired old words got thrown around, the lifeless eyes that did not recognize each other any longer... The horrible thought of making a way for a "someone else" to distance themselves. It was as if her departure was not enough distance. The apologies, the pretend happiness out of necessity. The unanswered calls, the unopened letters. The distance.

-----

And there I was, lying on my side, poking my umbrella to the water surface, as if blaming the pond for the pinching inside. The dirt on the dock ruined my already patched up dress. The stitches on my legs started to mesh. My carrot-colored hair was even more flat from the drizzle.

"Umbrella and messy stitches. Let me guess, Frankenstein and Mary Poppins hybrid?"

I sat up and there he was. The realization of all the ghosts I'd seen. Wearing a round, adorable skull mask, and a sharp pin suit. I stared at him, overwhelmed. He took off his mask and said,

"Wait, don't go mental on me. Are you dressing up as... Road kills stitched into one monster?" he teased with a mischievous smirk. "Or are you a hobo?"

"You came," I said, unable to form more decent words together.

"Always the man of my words and I meant it when I said," he paused for effect and he slowly sang, "We can live like Jack and Sally if we want,"

He made a stupid dance move and continued, "Where you can always find me. We'll have halloween on christmas, and in the night we'll wish this never ends."

He took my hand, "We'll wish this never ends."

I couldn't say anything. But I didn't need to. He dragged me away and said, "Come on! My dad got ordained online just for this. Hurry!"

Then he suddenly stopped. "Speaking of the devil," he muttered.

His father was standing in front of me. He looked worried and he held out his hand for me to hold. And when I did, he held my hand like it was the wings of a butterfly. Like it was so delicate, he couldn't even convey the warmth from his hand to mine.

Just before he led the way, he said, "We better start now before it rains again, the gravediggers are getting antsy."


And the ghost dissolved.