Ghostfinders 02 - Ghost of a Smile

she could still do everyday things, as though she were an ordinary girl. For JC’s sake, as well as her own.
    “Anything?” she said brightly, when she was sure she could present the right image.
    “Nothing useful,” said JC. “No trace of any upset or disturbance here. No signs of interrupted activity. Just like all the other rooms. It’s as though . . . everyone got up and left. Except, they couldn’t. Because all the doors were locked and bolted shut from the outside. So someone must have come and let them all out, and given them good reason to leave . . . Even though they must have been strictly instructed not to. Which implies they knew who the person who let them out was . . . someone in a position of authority.”
    “Like the Marie Celeste ,” said Kim, to show she was keeping up. “The old ship found floating out at sea with everyone missing and nothing to show where they had gone.”
    “Yes,” said JC, smiling. “Something like that.” He looked over at Kim, and stopped smiling. “Kim, you’re sinking again.”
    Her concentration had lapsed while they were talking, and she’d almost disappeared under the bed. She swore briefly and jumped up. She dropped to the floor and concentrated until her feet were as close to the carpet as she could manage without sinking through, then she walked carefully forward to stand before JC. She looked at him, almost defiantly.
    “It’s not easy, you know, being dead. In fact, it’s really hard work. All those little things you take for granted, I have to fight for. I don’t sleep, eat, or rest. I can’t stand still, or sit, or lie down. Mostly, I just hover. There are strange aetheric winds that blow me this way and that, and odd impulses I don’t understand . . . You don’t know what it’s like! I do try to be normal for you . . .”
    “I know,” said JC. “I know.” He smiled at her, careful not to appear upset in any way. There wasn’t anything useful he could say, so he settled for trying to lighten the moment. “Aren’t I worth it?”
    “You’re the only thing that makes this bearable, JC,” said Kim, with painful earnestness. “If I didn’t have you, I think . . . I’d just let go.”
    JC stood as close before her as he could, taking off his sunglasses so he could hold her eyes with his. She was the only one who could meet his unnatural gaze these days. “You know I’d never keep you here against your will. You do know that, right? If you ever feel it would be . . . easier for you to move on . . .”
    “No,” Kim said immediately. “We found each other. After spending our lives alone, and thinking it would always be that way . . . Out of a whole world full of people, we found each other. How remarkable is that? I wish it could have happened while I was still alive. That I didn’t have to die to find love.”
    “Me, too,” said JC. He put his arms around her, very carefully, not quite touching her. It was difficult because he couldn’t feel her, but he did his best. She put her arms around his waist, without quite touching him, and leaned her head almost on his shoulder, so their faces could be side by side. Hardly any space separated them, but it might as well have been forever. Their mouths were close, but they couldn’t even feel each other breathe. Because only JC was breathing. It was tense, and it was awkward, but it was the best they could do, so they stood that way for a while.
    “Are you sure you can’t feel anything?” said Kim.
    “Not even a ghostly chill,” said JC.
    “Sooner or later,” said Kim, “you’re going to want someone who can touch you. A lover who can hold and comfort you.”
    “I want you,” said JC. “You’re all I ever wanted, even when I didn’t know you existed. I love you, Kim.”
    “And I love you,” said Kim. “Oh JC, it’s a cruel world, sometimes.”
    “Hey,” said JC. “If it was a cruel world, we never would have found each other.”
    “Yes,” said Kim. “There is that.”
    “Isn’t there any upside to being a ghost?” said JC. “I mean, there are things you can do that I can’t.”
    “Well,” said Kim, “sometimes, when you’re sleeping, and it’s a long time till morning . . . I go flying over London. I let go of gravity and fall upwards, into the night sky, and I go soaring over the rooftops. See the bright lights turn below me like a slow Catherine wheel, see the traffic roaring back and forth like so many toys. And sometimes I fly up among the stars