Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. >Jessa Meets Her Match by BPClavel Jessa Meets Her Match: Ch. 1, Bates Pond (Chapter 1) Stonefield, Vermont. Mayberry fucking RFD. There was even a malt shop. Not for tourists -" because there had always been a malt shop. The cars were 2025, but Stonefield itself -" straight out of the 1950s. I -(TM)d spent summers there as a kid -" the town never fucking changed -" not a new building or house to be seen. After completing my ten minute tour, I headed back up the hill, making a mental note to look up the population of Mayberry. It had to be about the same as Stonefield. What beautiful weather, blue sky with tiny blazing white clouds way up high. It was just after Memorial Day. Stonefield had celebrated -" such a patriotic place. I -(TM)d seen signs. I didn -(TM)t consider myself woke, but, having spent the last seven years on college campuses, I -(TM)d learned to pretend. I knew I wasn -(TM)t supposed to like Memorial Day. Wasn -(TM)t it all about aggrandizing war? I was young. I was a rebel, but that wasn -(TM)t me. After all, it was a new America. The first black president had come and gone -" while I was in elementary school, no less. But you -(TM)d never know it looking around Stonefield. The entire town was an anachronism. I was part of a new generation, most of whom had their hearts set on fixing America, or ruining it in the attempt. Again, not me. The military? Police departments? I was in favor of both. I knew not to broadcast it. Taking one last look before walking around a bend, I sighed. I -(TM)d agreed to this. I -(TM)d survive. But it was going to be the longest, loneliest summer ever. No one my age was in Stonefield. They -(TM)d all fled south, to bigger cities, to where the action was. God, I hated Vermont. I had started my summer long visit with a walk to town -" just to remind myself how bad this was going to be. Now, I had to again cover the mile to grandma -(TM)s house -" a country mile. Spring was in full bloom. Birds and butterflies. Birds eating butterflies. Everything was green, not at all like Arizona. At the crest of the hill, I turned around and around, breathing in the fresh, fragrant air and taking in the lush scenery. It was beautiful. But I still hated Vermont. Like the town, the house was unchanged -" except for the ravages of time. It needed a coat of paint -" and a new kitchen -" and a couple of bathrooms. The list went on. But that was what we were there for. My last summer as a student -" in the fall I would be tackling my dissertation -" and I would spend it as a laborer -" painting. Mazzie, our scruffy Yorkie, was in the driveway, keeping our SUV company. -You don -(TM)t like it here either, do you, little girl? - I said, kneeling down to pet her. A minute later, I pulled my suitcase out of the car and headed up the front steps. -How was your walk? - my mother called out from the kitchen. She was wanting me to say something nice. Hope springs eternal in that woman -(TM)s breast. Deciding to spare her my mood, I headed straight upstairs. I knew which room was mine. It had always been my room. I stepped inside, tossing my suitcase on the twin bed. Four plain walls and one central light fixture -" a square piece of formed and frosted glass hiding the single light bulb -" barely. Totally fifties. I started unpacking, but part way in, I decided on another walk -" this one all country. I -(TM)d seen Stonefield. Now, I needed to see Bates Pond. If it was as I remembered, then just possibly, I might be able to survive the summer. It was only half a mile, and fortunately, it was exactly as it had been. It had seemed larger, but so had the town. I -(TM)d been a kid. I -(TM)d grown up -" I -(TM)d changed -" Vermont hadn -(TM)t. It was warm and I was instantly regretting that I didn -(TM)t have my swimsuit on under my clothes. I turned slowly, examining the countryside while looking for movement. -What the hell, - I said aloud, kicking off my shoes. -No one -(TM)s within a mile of this place. - I knew that wasn -(TM)t true, but it was true enough. I briefly considered swimming in my bra and panties, but after again studying my surroundings and listening carefully, they joined the rest of my clothes on the grass. Was this why I had agreed to help my parents fix up grandma -(TM)s house? The water wasn -(TM)t quite clear, but it was spectacularly crisp. As I was picturing it, I -(TM)d be there every afternoon. The loneliest summer ever, but with a daily dip in Bates Pond and an occasional trip to the malt shop, I -(TM)d survive. God, I loved Vermont -" almost as much as sarcasm. I swam all around, thinking about all the fun we -(TM)d had there as kids. This was a different kind of fun. Nude in broad daylight -" not something I -(TM)d ever do in Arizona. It certainly got the heart going. But as I climbed the bank, I saw her. She was sitting cross-legged by my clothes. Where had she come from? I hesitated, but after looking around, I concluded that it was just the two of us. Shaking out my long blonde hair, I started toward her. That -(TM)s when I noticed that she was nude, too. Had she considered joining me only to chicken out? -Hey, - I greeted her. She jumped. She hadn -(TM)t noticed me? She was sitting next to my clothes. But as I drew near, I noticed that something wasn -(TM)t right. I was seeing the grass through her. Holy shit! I froze. A split second later, I turned to run -" reacting, not thinking. Only, after a few steps, I stopped. I was naked. I couldn -(TM)t go back naked. My dad, Mason, they were both there. I looked cautiously back. The girl was still there, but standing, an expression of shock on her face. She was backing away. So she -(TM)s scared and I -(TM)m the one looking at a ghost? But that was all the encouragement I needed. I darted back. Scooping up my clothes, I took off -" running faster than I dared in my bare feet. I went at least a hundred yards before stopping to dress, not bothering with underwear. Bending to put on my shoes, I found that I had only one. Slipping it on, I again looked for her. She was nowhere to be seen. Entering the house, my mom came out of the kitchen. -A swim. What a great idea, - she said, but then her brow wrinkled. -Are you alright? - She reached a hand up to my forehead. My legs buckled and I crumpled. Only then did I notice that I was hyperventilating. -Albert, help, - my mom screamed, dropping down next to me. -It -(TM)s Jessa. - A moment later, my dad was there. -Get her to the couch. I -(TM)ll find a thermometer. - My dad stooped to pick me up. I threw my arms around his neck. He placed me on the couch, but I wasn -(TM)t about to let go. He was forced to remain on his knees. -We should call 911, - my mom announced after determining that my temperature was normal. -I don -(TM)t need 911, - I said, attempting to sit up. Swinging my feet to the floor, I continued, -I -(TM)m leaving. Where are the car keys? - -Honey, what happened? - my dad asked. At least he knew I wasn -(TM)t sick. -Nothing. Just give me the goddamn keys. - He pulled them from his pocket. I grabbed them and stormed out. After slamming the rear hatch, I climbed into the driver -(TM)s seat. But my dad was there, his body blocking me from closing the door. -What happened, Jessa? - His tone was soothing, his hand on my shoulder. -I -(TM)m leaving. I fucking hate Vermont. - -You -(TM)re in no condition to drive. - He was right. I handed him the keys as I leaned toward him, falling back out of the car. I started sobbing. Finally tears. He carried me back inside, this time going upstairs. Moving my suitcase, he placed me on the bed. -Don -(TM)t leave, - I whispered before letting go. -What -(TM)s wrong with her? - Mason, my kid brother, laughed from the doorway. -Get the Fuck outta here, - I screamed. He raised his hands in surrender, retreating back from the doorway. My dad, bless his heart, shut the door in his face. He then returned to my side. He took my hand. -You -(TM)re shaking. - I knew that. Shaking, shook, shaken -" all of the above. Inside and out. -Do you want to talk about it? - I considered telling him about the girl. -Just don -(TM)t leave, - I mumbled. My mom slipped into the room carrying a glass of lemonade and her cell phone. -We really should call 911. - My dad looked into my eyes. -Jessa. Talk to me. If you don -(TM)t tell us what happened, we -(TM)re calling. - -Don -(TM)t call 911. - -What happened? - -I went skinny dipping. - My mom looked at my feet. I was still wearing only the one shoe. My other foot was bleeding. -Oh, my God, - she said. -You -(TM)re not wearing a bra. Were you raped? - That made me angry. I had a short fuse when it came to my mother. -Fuck, no! I wasn -(TM)t raped, but I ran. There was this girl. - -A girl? - my dad asked. -What did she do? - I rolled to face the wall. -Leave me alone. - -But you said not to leave you alone. - -Yeah, stay here, - I said rolling back toward him and grabbing his hand. A minute later, I was sitting up, drinking the lemonade. My mom and dad were talking, acting as if I couldn -(TM)t hear. They were trying to decide what to tell the operator when they called 911. Did they need the police or an aide car? I decided to go downstairs. If I acted normal, maybe they -(TM)d stop talking at me. And if I hung out in the living room or kitchen, they could do whatever and I wouldn -(TM)t be alone. I needed time to think. I -(TM)d seen a ghost. Only ghosts didn -(TM)t exist. A fucking naked ghost! Goddamn it -" who would believe me? Why naked? I -(TM)d seen ghosts in movies and on TV. They were never naked. After dinner, I had my dad move my mattress into their room. Sleeping on the floor would be better than being alone. What if she -(TM)d followed me home? ***** The next morning, I woke up half thinking that I -(TM)d imagined it all. Was my mind playing tricks on me? Was this what it was like to go crazy? I -(TM)d been going over and over what I -(TM)d seen. I didn -(TM)t know what to think. I decided on a shower, almost asking my mom to come in the bathroom with me. But that would be weird. Stepping out of the shower, the girl was there -" again naked. Our eyes met. -What the fuck, - I shouted at her. Wrapping a towel around myself and fleeing back to my room, I slammed the door. She was in our house! I paced back and forth, letting my heart rate settle. A minute later, I -(TM)d dropped the towel and was looking in my drawers, trying to decide what to wear. Glancing up, I saw her near the window. The morning sun was shining through her legs. Our eyes met. -You can see me? - she asked. -Put some goddamn clothes on, - I yelled as I started to dress. -And you can hear me? - When I next glanced up, she was gone. Downstairs, my mom was making an egg and bacon breakfast -" just like Aunt Bee -" everything falling into place. I walked out onto the front porch. It was another beautiful day. I sat on the bottom step and Mazzie came over. Petting her, I noticed her food and water bowls. -Mom, why are you feeding Mazzie outside? - I yelled back into the house. -She won -(TM)t come in, - she replied, stepping through the doorway. I chuckled. I knew why. It was a fucking haunted house. After breakfast, I decided to walk into town. Maybe the library would be open and I could do a little research. If there were frequent ghost sightings in and around Stonefield, the librarian would know. There was information on ghosts, but nothing specific to Stonefield. I was also unable to find anything helpful when searching on the internet for information on naked ghosts. Walking back, I couldn -(TM)t decide what to do. At least this ghost didn -(TM)t seem threatening. Should I tell my parents -" or leave? But I couldn -(TM)t leave without telling them. I also couldn -(TM)t stay, nor could I do any painting. That afternoon, after doing some prep work -" getting next to nothing accomplished -" I decided on the boldest move of my life. I was going back to Bates Pond -" time to confront my demons. It was warm. I did want to swim, but that wasn -(TM)t why I was going. The girl -" had she drowned? In my mind, she -(TM)d be there and we -(TM)d talk. I was doing my best to convince myself that she didn -(TM)t mean me any harm. Hadn -(TM)t she been just as frightened of me as I of her? Even so, I told my mother exactly where I was going and when to expect me back. She grilled me, and after listening to my non-answers, she tried to talk me out of it. -At least don -(TM)t go skinny dipping, - she said, realizing she was fighting a losing battle. -I won -(TM)t. I promise. I have to find my shoe. - Funny -" she -(TM)s worried about me swimming naked and I -(TM)m worried about -" God knows what. What could a ghost do to a living human being? In the end, she let me go, but I was hardly a kid. -Why don -(TM)t you take Mason along? He needs to get out of the house. - I -(TM)d already considered that -" for like a tenth of a second. I didn -(TM)t need to put his life at risk along with mine. And having him with me would surely keep -~my -(TM) ghost from making an appearance. -Maybe next time, - I told her. Keeping my eyes and ears open, I made my way cautiously to the place where I -(TM)d first seen her. It was easy to find -" my shoe. My heart pounding in my ears, I stood there, turning slowly. -Let -(TM)s talk, - I called out, my voice faltering. I cleared my throat and tried again. After a bit, I took a seat -" just a short distance from where she -(TM)d been. Thinking about how one might encourage a ghost to show herself, I would occasionally say things, trying out this idea and that. I found it comical that I was doing my best to appear nonthreatening. I mean, what could I do to a ghost? She was dead, right? Eventually, it was time to admit defeat. -~My -(TM) ghost showed up when she wanted to. But if that was true, why had she looked so surprised? Switching to plan B, I started stripping. The water was looking awfully inviting. As my panties landed atop the rest of my clothes, I turned. She was there. -Umm -- hello, - I said, placing a forearm across my breasts, a palm over my pussy. She didn -(TM)t show any bashfulness whatsoever when it came to being nude. -Hi, - she said. We were just a couple of body lengths apart -" a normal distance for talking -" except there was no normal given the circumstances. My skin was crawling. I could faintly see the pond through her body. We both just stood there, scrutinizing one another. -What took you so long? - I asked. -I -(TM)ve been here at least a half hour. - -I -(TM)ve been here the whole time. I walked out here with you. - -You did? But you waited until I took off my clothes? That -(TM)s just plain weird. - She pursed her lips but then smiled. -You look oddly familiar, - I remarked. -What -(TM)s your name? Did you drown here? - -We -(TM)re related. I -(TM)m your great aunt. Your grandmother -(TM)s little sister. - I looked at her. We looked alike. -Wow. Now I know why I recognize you. You -(TM)re me. - And she was -" a slender blonde -" my same boobs. -You -(TM)re twenty-five. I -(TM)m twenty-five. You age. I don -(TM)t. - -But why are you naked? - -What do you recall of my story? I -(TM)m sure my sister, Patricia, talked about me. - -I remember hearing about you, - I said nodding. Truth be told, I remembered very little. My grandmother had spoken of a younger sister. I -(TM)d seen photographs. I -(TM)d never been very interested in family stuff. She laughed. She was on to me. -Your grandmother was thirty-five in 1985. That -(TM)s when it happened. I was twenty-five -- forever twenty-five. She and I, ten years apart. - -When what happened? - -My family never found out. I was engaged. My whole life ahead of me -- or so I thought. But raped and murdered. Does that still happen? I assume it does. - -It does. Life sucks, - I nodded, blinking to keep my eyes from growing moist. Murder, not to mention rape -" so sad. I -(TM)d never spoken to a murder victim. Of course, I hadn -(TM)t -" they were dead. -Don -(TM)t let it get to you. It was so long ago. I don -(TM)t think about it. I don -(TM)t want to think about it. I refuse to let it change me. To make me bitter. - She paused. -So does that explain my lack of clothing? - -I guess. - -But it -(TM)s something about the clothes, - she said. -That we are closely related, and maybe because we -(TM)re the same age. But also, the clothes. - -What do you mean? - -Put something back on, - she suggested, gesturing toward my pile. I decided to give it a try, picking up my panties. She disappeared as I slid them up my legs. With them on, I turned looking for her. -Are you there? - I asked, but I was alone, or at least seemed to be. I removed the panties and she reappeared. -Could you hear me? - she asked. -I couldn -(TM)t see you. I couldn -(TM)t hear you. - -Strange, - she remarked. -Dirk doesn -(TM)t have to be naked. - -Dirk? - -My fianc(C). He -(TM)s sixty-five now, just as I would be. He -(TM)s been the only one. And now you. Suddenly, twice as many people can see me. - At that juncture, I decided to turn around and make sure that we were alone. -What are you thinking? - she asked. -Umm -- that I -(TM)m standing in the open. That if someone comes, they -(TM)ll see me. - She looked back in the direction of the houses. -Not something I worry about. I -(TM)ve been naked my whole death. One gets used to it. - I nodded, but I couldn -(TM)t imagine getting used to being naked. -Maybe if I was invisible, but even then -- - I paused, but she didn -(TM)t reply. -Want to go for a swim? - I asked, thinking that we could talk in the water and I wouldn -(TM)t feel so exposed. -I -(TM)m not a very good swimmer. - -You don -(TM)t have to worry about drowning, right? - -I guess not, - she said, turning and looking toward the pond. A short time later, we were both waist deep. I bent my knees to hide my breasts in the water; she didn -(TM)t. I -(TM)d wondered if it would look like there was a hole in the surface of the pond where she was -" to others -" to me she just looked another woman, albeit not completely opaque. -Catherine, - she said. -Thanks. I was racking my brain. - -It -(TM)s fine. After forty years, I don -(TM)t have any expectations. The police have given up. - -They didn -(TM)t catch your killer? - -They actually arrested Dirk. There was a trial. Idiots! As if the man who loved me, the man who asked me to marry him, would kill me. - -Was he convicted? - -No. There was no body. Pretty hard to convict someone of murder when the jury wasn -(TM)t convinced the victim was dead. A few of them thought I -(TM)d simply left town. I listened in on their deliberations -- so I could report back to Dirk. - -Where is he now? Does he live here? - -In Stonefield? Hardly. a lot of people think he -(TM)s a murderer. An even greater number think he -(TM)s crazy. He used to talk about ghosts. He learned his lesson, quickly in fact, but the damage was done. - -So, I shouldn -(TM)t mention you? - -Best not. - -So where is he? - -An institution in Montpelier. - -Is he confined there? - -Essentially. The course of his life was altered by what happened -- just as mine was. I don -(TM)t know how to help him. Closure. But that -(TM)s been elusive for both of us. - -So, if not Dirk, then who? - -I wish I knew. I could have given that information to Dirk. He could have told the police. - -So, a stranger? - -Probably, but it was dark. I didn -(TM)t get a very good look. - -Did he call you by name? - -Not that I recall. - Sometime later, I walked home -" alone -" or what seemed like alone. I -(TM)d dressed. As much as I wanted to keep talking to Catherine, I couldn -(TM)t very well go around undressed. I especially couldn -(TM)t show up at home butt naked. My family was there. They had started working on the house. That evening, I asked my mom where grandma -(TM)s photo albums were. She showed me, and I pulled out the ones that predated Catherine -(TM)s death in 1985. I wanted to ask my mother questions, but I decided to hold off. She was acting suspicious enough as it was. Catherine was her aunt and had gone missing when she was young. I knew she had memories. I was hungry for information, but first things first. I spread the photo albums out on the dining room table, hoping that my mother would join me and start volunteering up information. She didn -(TM)t. I imagined Catherine looking over my shoulder. That was funny to think about -" a nude woman in the room with me. At long last, I could stand it no more. I took two of the albums upstairs. After getting my dad to help carry the mattress back, I pushed my bed in front of the door to keep Mason out. I then stripped everything off. As I -(TM)d hoped, Catherine reappeared. -I couldn -(TM)t wait for you to take off your clothes, - she said. -Careful -- you sound like a lesbian, - I quipped in a hushed voice. -And -- shhhh. Thin walls. - -Oh, they won -(TM)t hear me. They might hear you. - I nodded. I assumed that was true. I sat down cross-legged on the bed, my back against the door, an open album on my lap. -You have no hair down there, - she remarked, indicating the juncture of my legs, even though at that moment it was hidden by the album. -It -(TM)s called a pussy, - I whispered so as not to be overheard. -I know that. It -(TM)s not a word I use. - -Why not? - -I consider myself a lady. - -Ladies have pussies. And these days, most women shave -- some or all. I like it this way. Bare as a baby -(TM)s butt. It looks nice. It feels nice. - I shifted the photo album to the side and tilted my pelvis enough to make my slit visible. -Now look who -(TM)s the lesbian? - she said, averting her gaze. Was she blushing? Could ghosts even do that? -Is that what my bush would look like if I never shaved? - I asked, nodding my chin toward her crotch. -Let -(TM)s look at pictures, - she said, taking a seat on the bed, close but not too close. We looked through the albums, Catherine reminding me who the people that I didn -(TM)t recognize were. I let her do the talking. It was better that way. But if Mason were to hear me, he -(TM)d likely guess I was on my phone. Toward bedtime, I got dressed and went downstairs. I needed to keep up appearances. My parents had all kinds of questions. They still wanted an explanation for my behavior the day before, but they were glad I felt comfortable enough to sleep in my room. I dodged most of their questions by staring at my phone. They were used to that. Mason did it too. At bedtime, I again stripped off. Even though I wasn -(TM)t very comfortable being nude, I was probably less comfortable with the idea of being constantly watched by an unseen ghost woman. At least naked, I could watch back. -Which was your room? - I asked when she reappeared. -This one. - -Was this your bed? - -It -(TM)s the same bed, but that -(TM)s a different mattress. - I suspected as much. She -(TM)d been dead forty years. The mattress was old, but not that old. I started to consider sleeping arrangements. It was a small bed. Had she already slept with me? -Don -(TM)t worry, - she said as if reading my thoughts. -I don -(TM)t really sleep. Maybe I -(TM)ll go visit Dirk. I haven -(TM)t been there in a long time. I can -(TM)t wait to share all that -(TM)s happened. - -You -(TM)re going to tell him -- about me? - -You don -(TM)t want me to? - -Well -- - -Don -(TM)t worry. He won -(TM)t tell anyone. - I lay down and we talked a while longer, but eventually I fell asleep. ***** It came as a surprise to be naked when I woke up. I generally wore panties and a nightshirt to bed. Looking around the room, I saw Catherine. She was studying one of the photo albums. It was open on the floor right where I -(TM)d left it. She couldn -(TM)t turn the page, but she could look. -Sorry, - I said, getting up. I pulled on a nightshirt and went down the hall to pee. A minute later, I was back, quickly shucking the shirt to be able to see her. -Good morning, - she said. -Dirk sends his greetings. - -Oh, he does? - -We should go visit him. - I nodded, trying to imagine what that might be like. -Don -(TM)t worry. You won -(TM)t have to be naked. Only if you want to be able to see me while we -(TM)re there. - I considered her words. It was bound to be an interesting summer -" not at all the lonely one I had anticipated. -But I -(TM)m not sure how to get you in. I expect they have rules. I go where I want, when I want. No one ever says anything. - -I can probably research that, but not today. - -Yeah. Don -(TM)t you have to paint? - -Hmm -- - I did have to paint -" at some point. -Can I call you Cathy? Or -- what do you prefer? - -Patricia went by Patty. But I didn -(TM)t let people call me Cathy. - -No problem. - -Patty called me, -~Cathers. -(TM) She was the only one. She and I -- we were so close. - -Could I call you Cathers? - -I think I -(TM)d like that. - -It -(TM)s not a nickname I -(TM)ve heard. - -My sister made it up. Just Catherine shortened. Nothing special. - -It sounds special. - -I guess it is. She made me feel special. - She paused. -Jessa. Is that short for Jessica? - -No. Just Jessa. I always tell people, -~Jessica, but without the ick. -(TM) That gets a chuckle. Helps them remember. It -(TM)s an uncommon name. - She smiled. I had so many questions. It made me seething mad that this woman had been violated, that her life had been cut short. Rape and murder had always been utterly abhorrent, but this was personal. She was my kin, my age -" she looked like me. My nature made me want to fix this. Only, there was no fixing murder. -What are you thinking about? - she asked. -How much I hate whoever did this to you. It -(TM)s so sad, and I like you. - -I like you, too. I -(TM)ve only had Dirk. I can -(TM)t begin to tell you what it -(TM)s like to have someone new to talk to. - I attempted a smile. -You said your body was never found. That must mean you don -(TM)t know where it is. Because you could have told Dirk, and he could have -- - - --told the authorities. He could have led them to my body. - -Exactly. - -And then he would have been convicted. We talked about it. It would have meant closure for my family -" the body -" but he would have paid the price. The a-ghost-told-me defense is surely a weak one. - -So, if you don -(TM)t mind -- you do know where your body is? - -I know where it was. An old junkyard. In the trunk of a car. I -(TM)m not sure I could find it, it -(TM)s been so long. - -How were you killed? - There was a knock on the door. -Just a minute, - I replied, grabbing the nightshirt and pulling it on over my head. Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to pick my cell phone up from the top of the dresser. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door. It was my mother. -Hi, mom. - She was trying to see past me. I was standing to block her view of the room even though she wouldn -(TM)t be able to see Catherine. -Who were you talking to? Who was killed? - she asked. -Oh, that was just Tyler, - I said, turning my cell phone over in my hand. -He was bragging about some new video game. - She nodded, but looked unsure. -Breakfast, - she said, turning to knock on Mason -(TM)s door. -I -(TM)ll be down in a minute, - I said, closing my door and removing the shirt. -That was close, - Catherine said. I nodded. I knew better than to reply with my mom in the hallway. After breakfast, I went up for a shower. Before getting in, I talked to Catherine, using the noise of the water to mask my voice. I invited her along on an afternoon drive. Visiting my grandmother was one of the first things I wanted to do, and as I -(TM)d hoped, she liked the idea of going to see her sister. I thought Catherine would be curious about why I wanted to wait until afternoon, but if she was, she didn -(TM)t mention it. I had a surprise in mind; although, I had very little ability to surprise her. Even if I couldn -(TM)t see her, she could see me. After my shower, I pulled a couple of photos from one of the albums and headed into town for a haircut. It was going to be a show of support similar to how friends of cancer patients will sometimes shave their heads. I expected that Catherine was tagging along, but I wasn -(TM)t going to strip just to find out. And I wasn -(TM)t going to give Catherine the opportunity to talk me out. Fortunately, she hadn -(TM)t gone in for the big hair that the eighties was known for. She -(TM)d worn a style that was much more timeless. But even though I would do the hairstyle, I wasn -(TM)t going to grow out my bush. There were limits. I found a salon and showed the stylist what I had in mind. Back home, my mom was quite surprised. -Jessa, your hair! I didn -(TM)t know curtain bangs were back in style. - -Actually, they are, - I lied. But it didn -(TM)t matter. It was a cute hairstyle. Overall, I -(TM)d lost about ten inches in length. My bangs tapered down, passing just over my shoulders. My hair still extended down my back, but now only three or four inches. It would be a comfortable, easy-to-maintain style for summer. Now, Catherine and I were really twinners, not that anyone other than she and I (and possibly Dirk) might ever see us together. After lunch, I told my mother of my intentions to drive over and visit grandma. The last time I -(TM)d seen her, she -(TM)d been living in the Stonefield house. She -(TM)d grown up there, and then she -(TM)d moved back in late in life -" after inheriting the place. She was now a resident in an assisted living facility across the state line in New Hampshire. -Great idea, - my mom said. -Take Mason. - -Next time, - I said. -But you like your brother, and it -(TM)s been so long since mom last saw either of you. - -Next time, - I said, giving her my patented ice-cold stare. -Okay, next time, - she agreed. I -(TM)d been a monster in high school. She knew not to cross me. A short time later, I merged onto I-89. I imagined that Catherine was in the passenger seat, but I hadn -(TM)t seen her since my shower that morning. Deciding to touch bases with her, I pulled into the first rest area, parking at the very end, as far from other cars as possible. Still behind the wheel, I disrobed. It seemed pretty safe, but I was wishing the windows were tinted. -Why did you change your hairstyle? - she asked as the last item, my bra, came off. I shrugged. -It looks good on you. I thought I -(TM)d give it a try. - -But how will we tell ourselves apart? - I knew she had to be joking. -Easy. I can -(TM)t see through myself. - -You can see through me? - I nodded, surprised that she didn -(TM)t know. -I want to try something, - I said, slipping my foot back into one of my shoes. Catherine disappeared. -Dang, - I said, popping it back off. -What was that all about? - -Wishful thinking. It -(TM)s not why I got the haircut, but I thought that with the two of us looking more alike, I might be able to keep my shoes on. - Checking the perimeter around the vehicle in the mirrors, I pushed the button to lower the seat. -Well, here goes nothing, - I said, starting the car and putting it into reverse. -You -(TM)re going to drive naked? - -What -(TM)s the worst that can happen? - But even though Catherine didn -(TM)t answer, my mind was busy generating disagreeable scenarios -" from getting pulled over to being involved in an accident. Merging onto the freeway, I set the cruise control for the speed limit. A short time later, cars were passing us. I hoped no one would look over. My nipples were below the level of the sill, but not by much. I tried to imagine that I looked normal, like I was wearing something strapless, maybe a tube top. -So, Cathers, tell me about my grandmother, - I said, hoping for something to take my mind off the fact that I was naked. This was certainly something that I -(TM)d never imagined doing. My nipples were painfully erect. Glancing down, I saw just how far they were sticking out from my chest -" embarrassingly far. Why did they have to do that? Fortunately, Catherine didn -(TM)t seem to notice just how pointy they were. nShe acted just as comfortable with my nudity as her own. She seemed to enjoy having someone to talk to. I was listening to her, but I was also paying attention to the road. Looking in the mirror, I saw a semi change lanes to pass. -Shit, - I mumbled, sliding just a little lower, the feeling of the seat against my bare skin reminding me that I was butt naked -" as if I needed reminding. Fortunately, it was leather and not vinyl, so I wasn -(TM)t sticking to it. -What -(TM)s wrong? - -A semi, - I replied, leaning forward to look in my side mirror. She laughed. -Thanks a lot. - -You -(TM)re welcome. I haven -(TM)t felt so alive in years. - Something about her words made me happy, but it was bittersweet -" a reminder that no matter how -~alive -(TM) she felt, she was in fact dead. Nothing would change that. -Our exit, - I said, putting on my turn signal. I stopped along the shoulder, well back from the intersection. Over half an hour naked, but now it was time to get dressed. Before doing so, we discussed the upcoming visit. Sadly, Catherine wouldn -(TM)t be able to talk to her sister. I could relay messages, but that would turn it into a s(C)ance -" and require that I be nude -" not something I was going to do. A few minutes later, I pulled into a spot in the parking lot. Signing in at the front desk, under -~number of visitors, -(TM) I wrote -~2. -(TM) The person behind the counter didn -(TM)t notice. As it was my first time there, the receptionist found someone to show me to Grandma Patty -(TM)s room. She was delighted to see me. I plopped down on an overstuffed chair, my legs curled under, and started filling her in on all that I had been up to that year. She was sad to learn that Tyler and I had broken up. She didn -(TM)t mince words. She was ready for me to get married and -~make some babies. -(TM) -Grandma, tell me about Cathers, - I said to change the subject. -Cathers, - she said pensively, turning and looking out the window. I could see the clock in her head winding back, way back. -Your sister. My mom said you called her Cathers. - -I -(TM)m surprised she remembers. - -What happened? - -You -(TM)re going to make me cry, - she said, although there were already tears in her eyes. I grabbed a box of tissues and moved over onto the couch next to her. A moment later we were hugging and both going through tissues. -I loved Cathers, - she said, her voice failing her. I pulled one of the photos from my pocket, handing it to her. It was of the two of them together -" outside, in front of some trees. She cradled it lovingly. -This was near Mount Washington. Have you ever been there? - -You took me. We went up The Cog. - She smiled, giving me yet another hug. -So glad you remember. Why do you have this? - -From one of your albums. I took it to get my hair cut. - I stood up, taking a step back. -Oh, my God, Jessa. I didn -(TM)t notice. You look just like her. She was so beautiful. - -What happened to her? - I asked. I wanted to hear it straight. -I -(TM)ll tell you what didn -(TM)t happen. It wasn -(TM)t Dirk. If anyone loved her more than me, it was Dirk. He was devastated, but such a good man. Don -(TM)t let anyone tell you otherwise. - -Was she murdered? - -For a long time, I kept my hopes alive. We were going to find her. I thought she -(TM)d been kidnapped or had simply run away -- although that seemed unlikely. Eventually, everyone else concluded that she was dead. We were all searching for a way to go on with our own lives. Not a day goes by that I don -(TM)t think about her. I miss her so. - -I wish you would have talked about her more. - She studied me, a puzzled expression on her face. -What was there to say? There was no reason to burden a young girl with my heartache. - -Well, I -(TM)m older. I want to be burdened. I need to know. - She squeezed my hands. -I -(TM)ve always wanted for her to be alive. Now I know that she is. I know it in my heart. - -She -(TM)s alive? - -Because that -(TM)s what I want to believe. She -(TM)d be -- hmm -- sixty-five. She could be happy. That -(TM)s my dream for her. That she has a husband, kids, even grandkids. That -(TM)s what I want -- for her. She was such a beautiful person. - -Grandma, can I use your restroom. - She pointed. As soon as I -(TM)d locked the door, I ripped off my clothes. Catherine -(TM)s eyes were as red as mine. I wanted to hug her, but truth be told, I was still a bit freaked out by the ghost thing. -Thank you, - she said. -For? - -For this. I visited her countless times. I -(TM)ve watched her clean house, read books. I couldn -(TM)t see into her thoughts. Today I heard my sister say she loves me. Those words -- worth the world to me. I can -(TM)t thank you enough. - -I -(TM)d walk out there naked if I thought she -(TM)d be able to see you. That the two of you would be able to talk. - Catherine started laughing through her tears. When I exited the bathroom, Grandma Patty had a photo album open on her lap. There were photos of the two of them. She then started showing me photos of Mason and me, when we were little. I could tell that they were special in her eyes, but that wasn -(TM)t where my mind was. After several more inquiries about Cathers, she produced a folder with news clippings. Not wanting to read them there, I asked if I could borrow them. I felt the need to know everything. I drove home lost in thought. I knew that Catherine was with me, but I wasn -(TM)t in the frame of mind for driving naked -" too stressful. As impossible as it seemed, I started trying to figure out how to go back to my prior life -" a life in which ghosts were fictional. But, as hard as I tried to think about other things, my plans for my dissertation, for example, my thoughts always cycled back to my grandmother and her sister. Was Grandma Patty happier not knowing -" imagining that Catherine was out there somewhere? Would learning the truth open up old wounds that had all but healed? Raped and murdered. Closure maybe, but horrific news. Could I do that to her? If it were me, would I want such news, or would ignorance be my preference? Suddenly, I wanted the boring, lonely summer I had anticipated. If I kept my clothes on, I could have it. Out of sight, out of mind. At home, my mother had all kinds of questions. -How does grandma like her new apartment? Does she cook her own meals or eat in the cafeteria? Does she have friends? Play bingo? Work puzzles? - It was awkward. None of that had come up. -She -(TM)s fine, - I told her. Eventually my mother decided that I was in one of my moods and left me alone. Late that evening, I snuck out with a bottle of wine, a glass, and a blanket. A full bottle was a lot for someone who tipped the scale at 110, but it had a screw cap. I didn -(TM)t have to finish it. At least that was what I was telling myself. At Bates Pond, I spread out the blanket. I was sure Catherine was there. I imagined that she wanted me to strip, but I wasn -(TM)t going to. I needed to be alone. I was at a crossroads. Keep my clothes on and paint walls or continue taking them off and fall further down the rabbit hole. What would Alice do? I didn -(TM)t know, but I knew exactly what Sherriff Taylor would do. Why, oh why had I watched so many seasons of The Andy Griffith Show? But Grandma Patty was to blame. She -(TM)d gotten me hooked on the reruns. Breaking Bad, Parks and Recreation, How I Met Your Mother, and Big Bang Theory -" that -(TM)s what I should have been watching. But I watched those, too. But the real question -" could I return to my pre-Cathers life? Did I want to? It was quite a decision. Somehow, I finished the bottle, the tough choices still hanging in the balance. At that point, even though skinny dipping hadn -(TM)t been something I -(TM)d been considering, I started pulling at my clothes. Going back to a ghost-free existence would mean no skinny dipping -" never again. But stretched out on my back on the blanket, I kicked off my panties. They arced up and away, disappearing into the darkness. After struggling to my feet, I started toward the shore. I was weaving a bit, but enjoying the feel of the cool grass between my toes. Suddenly Catherine was there. She was in front of me, pushing on my chest, both of her arms straight. I started laughing. I couldn -(TM)t even feel her. She was trying so hard, and I was shoving her across the grass. -Don -(TM)t. Not in the water. You -(TM)ve had too much. - -Boo! - I shouted, wondering if it might scare her. -Please, Jessa. It -(TM)s not safe. - -Lighten up, ghost woman, - I laughed while continuing to stumble toward the pond. -Please. Come back tomorrow. - -Are you fucking kidding me? Just because you -(TM)re not a good swimmer? - -It -(TM)s that you -(TM)re drunk. - She was still trying to block me from reaching the pond. -It -(TM)s swimming, not driving. I -(TM)ll be fine. - -Not a good decision. You -(TM)ll drown. As in -- dead. - It was comical, She was getting so worked up. -So what? - -Take that back. You don -(TM)t want to die. - -But then we -(TM)d be together. If there -(TM)s one thing I -(TM)ve learned this summer, it -(TM)s that there -(TM)s an afterlife. Something to look forward to. - -Don -(TM)t joke about that. I want what you have. Don -(TM)t even think about throwing it away. - -You can -(TM)t stop me. - Tears in her eyes, she started to panic. -No, no, no. I can -(TM)t let you. - I was beginning to feel bad, but I laughed anyway. -Fucking powerless. That -(TM)s what you are, - I said, reaching the water -(TM)s edge. She collapsed, all but disappearing down into the reeds. -Please, Jessa. - Her body was quivering. She rolled such that she was facing the ground -" her legs curled up under her -" as if she couldn -(TM)t bear to watch. She continued to sob, but quietly. Suddenly, I was regretting my words. Did I really need to put her through this? Stepping out of the water, I tripped. Crawling over next to her, I said, -I -(TM)d be fine, but if it means that much to you -- - She looked up at me, worry evident in her big eyes. She nodded solemnly. A few minutes later, I was barfing in the bushes. Good friend that she was, Catherine was there trying to comfort me. Again, there wasn -(TM)t anything she could do. -Let -(TM)s go, - she said. -Follow me. I -(TM)ll get you home. - But feeling a bit better, I went back to my blanket. After wiping my face on it, I stretched out spread eagle, exposing my bald beaver to the heavens. So many stars. The milky way. Never like this in Arizona -" at least not where we lived. ***** There was a knock on the door. -Jessa. Breakfast. - I lifted the covers and looked. I was naked. Glancing around the room, I saw Catherine. She was atop the dresser, sitting in the lotus position, her hands on her knees, palms up. -You -(TM)re welcome, - she said, coming out of her trance. -But how? - -It wasn -(TM)t easy. You -(TM)re an obstinate drunk. And don -(TM)t scare me like that again. - I rolled over to go back to sleep, wondering if she -(TM)d saved my life. I -(TM)d been pretty damn wasted. ***** -Why are your feet so dirty? - my mom asked, once I was up and about. I looked down. At least I -(TM)d brushed the vomit out of my hair. -It -(TM)s summer. Who needs shoes, - I snapped. I walked away, feeling a bit sorry about my tone of voice. But being treated like a teenager brought out the teenager in me -" a vicious cycle. A while later, I slipped out and made my way back to the pond. Everything was there, but finding my panties took some doing. It reminded me of a crime scene or the site of an orgy, a woman -(TM)s clothes, scattered about. Seeing my panties in the bushes brought something else to mind. If I -(TM)d gone home naked, had Mason seen me? I was horrified to think that he might have. My parents would have been in bed, but my brother was a night owl. I had intended to just pick it all up and head back, but instead, I decided on a swim. That would at least get my feet clean. -So, how did you get me home last night? - I asked as we waded into the cool water. -You got yourself home. - -I -(TM)m not mad. I -(TM)m just asking. - -You sound mad. - -I -(TM)m really not mad. Maybe a little upset, but at myself. - -You should be. Without me, no telling where you would have woken up. It certainly wouldn -(TM)t have been your bed. - -Almost always a whole bottle, but two people. You weren -(TM)t holding up your end of the bargain, Cathers. - -I -(TM)d love to drink with you, Jessa. In another life, you and I would have so much fun. - I smiled. -You know it, ghost girl! - I -(TM)d always been amazed by how much clarity getting wasted could inject into one -(TM)s life. And then it hit me. I -(TM)d touched a ghost! I -(TM)d actually touched a ghost! I considered reaching over and touching her again. Instead, I dove forward into the water, putting my head under to rinse out the smell of barf. ***** I spent a few hours painting. My mom couldn -(TM)t believe I was actually painting. In reality, I was just stalling for time, still struggling with the monumental decision before me. But that afternoon, I pulled out Grandma Patty -(TM)s file and dove in. The articles were so sad. -Local woman, 25, missing. Search parties being organized. - -Stonefield man detained, being questioned on disappearance of fianc(C)e. - -Dirk Landers charged with murder. Trial date pending. - The articles weren -(TM)t extremely detailed. Much of what they contained, I already knew. I did pick up a few tidbits of information and started making notes. One thing that Catherine hadn -(TM)t mentioned was that she -(TM)d gone to bed that fateful night, presumably in my same bed. That was kind of freaky to think about. But then she hadn -(TM)t been there in the morning. She -(TM)d gone missing overnight -" no signs of a struggle. That had led to speculation that she had known her abductor -" if there had been an abductor -" or had simply run away. However, she -(TM)d taken little or nothing with her -" not her toothbrush, not her purse. No wonder Dirk had been a suspect. I was definitely going to have to hear the story directly from Catherine. I was racking my brain trying to think of a better place for the two of us to talk. Outside was too risky, but so was the bedroom. I thought about the basement, but it was dank. And it was surely no more soundproof than the bedroom. In the back of my mind, I knew I had made my decision. I couldn -(TM)t walk away from this. There was a murderer on the loose. Maybe he was old. Maybe he was dead. But I was coming for him. Cathers and I, we were coming for him