Ghosts

When he first came back, she would see him drifting from room to room like a ghost, unsure of himself and this world he found himself in. Everything in it was a memory, an old familiar setting rendered otherworldly by years of long absence. He would wander from study to bedroom to nursery to parlor, running his fingers along the backs of chairs, tufted cushions, and smooth wallpaper. Feather light touches, as though to let his fingers linger would burn them. He was a tall man, but illness had rendered him willowy-slim. He walked lightly, as though afraid the world would buck him off.

Everyone was very gentle with him. There were allowances to be made, her mother explained, for he had been alone for so long that he did not know what to do with so many people. The servants greeted him when he came into a room, and visitors pressed his hands and told him how glad they were at his return. He always responded with a smile and a few moments conversation. But she thought he seemed sad.

It angered her. Didn't he see that they were all there to help him, to love him and guide him back into life? Didn't he realize what Mama had done for him? Didn't he realize how much they had missed him? She was too little to understand the fear he had felt, the loneliness of neglect and the irradiating joy of rescue. Too little to understand the time it took to make the transition from solitary neglect to life.

She began to follow him.

At first, he did not notice, for she sidled along some ways behind him when he walked the villa or the garden. But he was an observant man, and before long he realized that his little daughter dogged his footsteps. He began to talk aloud, quietly, just enough for her to hear.

"This chair is smooth as silk, worn soft by the many hands passing over its back." "It was in this room that I first learned I was to be a father." "When I smell roses, I think of life." "I forgot what velvet felt like while I was away, but now when I feel it, I remember dancing with your mother, and fine curtains, and warm October mornings."

Slowly, she began to understand that he was remembering Life. She began to bring him things.

"Look, I found this shell when Abuelita took us to the shore. It is blue like the summer sky and that makes it lucky." "This cigar smells like the woods in autumn." "I took this cravat from your wardrobe after you went away, because it helped me remember what you smell like."

Late one night after she had gone to bed, he came and lifted her up in his arms. Half-asleep, she rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her to the window. He pointed up at the stars.

"Do you see that star? It is called Sirius. It is always there, my rabbit, shining so very bright. And as long as you can see that star in the night sky, as long as you live and no matter what happens, you will know how much I love you."

And she nestled into her father's shoulder and knew that everything would be all right.