Rain for Me

The rain is falling, in the pale morning air. It's cold, it doesn't feel like summer, but it's supposed to be. I wish I'd thought to bring an umbrella, I swipe the water from my eyes and squint through the downpour. There's a tree ahead, I walk faster, but it's too thin to be of any protection, it makes the droplets bigger, they land heavy on my head. It's not really a long walk to work, but I know I'll be sodden by the time I get there. So I decide to enjoy the rain, and tilt my head back. There's no wind, the rain falls down straight as an arrow, to my face.
squinting again I see the small reserve ahead, there's water pooled under the swing set, and the slide has turned into a swift river with a fall at the bottom. The trees droop under the weight of the water in their leaves.
I realise I've stopped and an instant later I know why. Someone is standing on the grass, stock still. His head is bent and water drips from his dark hair. My first impulse is to hurry on before he sees me. I mean, who stands alone in the rain? I brush the water from my eyes again. And he looks up. Closing the distance between us and locking me in place. I can't leave. He looks tired, like he's been standing there all night.
“Are you alright?” I try to raise my voice enough so he can hear, but it comes out a pathetic whisper, drowned by the drum of the rain. I clear my throat and try again. He blinks at me. And falls to his knees.
I run forwards, what is wrong with him?
“Do you need help?” I reach out, my heart pounding.
“Don't touch me!” he says harshly, and I stumble back, suddenly scared, and feeling stupid for approaching him. Stupid, stupid girl.
Then he takes a deep breath and lets it out.
“I'm sorry, I don't need anything I'm fine, but thanks.” His voice is normal now, he obviously doesn't want to scare me more than he has already. I stand still, breathing slowly to calm myself.
“Okay.” My voice is barely audible, I turn to go.
“You're leaving?” I stop, hesitating.
“No.”
“I really didn't mean to scare you.” He stands slowly, his hand are shaking. He's not fine, I think, staring at him But he doesn't want my help, why?
“Yeah I know, everything is kind of spooky at this time of day, it's not your fault.”
“I'm Garrett, and I don't usually stand alone in the park at night, although it not really night anymore.” He glances at the sky. I give a small smile, polite. I don't know what else to do. Why did you fall? I stop my tough before I say it out loud.
“I should go,” I say, glancing at my watch. “I don't want to be late.”
“You're walking alone? He pauses, frowning. “I can walk with you.” And he starts off the way I was headed before, I hesitate, then catch up with him.
“Thanks, but you don't have to.”
“It's Okay.”
We walk in silence for the rest of the way, with the rain pouring down on our bare heads. Every now and then I swipe the water from my face.
At the café door we stop, I could to tell him to come in to dry off, he obviously needs help.
“See ya” he says and walks away.
“Bye.” I don't have the courage to say anything else, or lift my voice higher.

“Nothing is an accident” he's walking beside me again, every day for the past week he has met me at the reserve and walked me to work, some days he would sit at a table outside the café, watching the cars and people go by, but he never stayed for long, he'd wave to me through the glass and then leave. I still haven't asked why he fell that first morning, I don't think he wants to tell me anyway.
“You really believe that?” I look up at him.
“I have to” and something in his voice stops me from saying anything.

At home, my mother and I are eating dinner, there's music playing softly in the background, under the table my feet fidget nervously as I plan how to tell her, back out and then start planning again.
“Mum” I stop, I could still back out, I don't feel like eating anymore, if only I could tell my friends, but we haven't been here long, so I don't have any that are close enough to talk to.
My mother lifts her big eyes, so much like mine, yet so different in colour, and looks at me questioningly.
“Yes?” she put her fork down, somehow she can always tell when there was something on my mind, she's waiting.
“I met someone” I say it in a rush, my face heating up.
“Really?” she's now waiting for me to tell her more. I take a deep breath.
“He's nice, he walks me to work every morning, he says I shouldn't walk alone. He used to live out on a farm, but his mom moved here, and he decided to come with her.”
“What's his name?” she's eating again, I relax slightly now that she's stopped looking at me.
“Garrett.” her eyes flick up to my face then back to her plate.
“And you like him?” It's not really a question, it's too obvious that I do. I smile, remembering when I'd realized it yesterday. I began to walk faster when I got closer to the reserve, impatient to see him. But he wasn't there, I stood, confused, on the footpath, he'd been there every morning since the first time, I felt hurt. My eyes started to sting, and blinking hard, I walked on, trying to pretend it didn't matter. He hadn't promised to come, he'd just been there. I knew I shouldn't be upset, but I was. And then I heard him calling my name behind me, I turned, I was so happy to see him that my face broke into a huge grin. My mother takes my smiling as the answer to her non-question, and smiles too.

It's Saturday, and unlike last week, I don't have work. But Garrett doesn't know that, I walk through the cool air, it's calm but the air still wraps around me as I walk, biting my face and hands. The world feels ghostly and insubstantial, my ear starts ringing and I shake my head as I turn the corner. And there he is, waiting for me, he's smiling slightly and lifting his eyebrows.
“You look different.” He says.
“I don't have work today.”
“And you came anyway?” He grins to show he's joking. “You look nice”
“Thank you” my face is heating up, I duck my head letting my hair hide it, he knows what I'm doing, he chuckles and turns down the path.
“Come on.”
We walk again, it seems like that's all we ever do together, but I don't care, plus it's too early to do anything else. We go down to the river trail, the sound of the rushing water surrounds us. We're silent and it's nice, usually we talk non-stop about everything. smiling, and without thinking, I reach out for his hand.
But there's nothing there.

As my hand passes through his I feel myself go cold inside, I lift my eyes to his, begging him to tell me I'm seeing things, that it isn't true, for him to take me in his arms and make me forget what I saw. He doesn't, he just looks at me sadly, one hand lifts to sweep his hair from his eyes, and for a crazy moment I want to do it for him, then the realization slams home, I can't touch him. I can never touch him.
“What are you? a ghost?” my voice is full of tears.
He opens him mouth to speak. And in that moment I walk away, then run, and keep running until I know I will never hear his answer, even if he shouts at the top of his lungs. I don't want to hear him say it.
He's dead, he's been dead all this time, how could I have not seen it? that's why he didn't want me touching him, he knew I couldn't. I've always been better at perceiving ghosts and spirits than other people, my mother said I have a gift for it. It doesn't feel like a gift, it never did. But I didn't think I was this good at it, to think he was alive, I even told my mom about him. I curse my own stupidity. And run, I never want to stop, but when I get to the reserve all my strength leaves me, my legs give out and I fall to the cold ground. A cry shatters the early morning, and then I watch as my tears join the dewdrops clinging to the grass. How could I fall for a ghost?
Someone must have called my mother, she helps me to my feet and wipes the tears from my eyes, then she takes me home.
“Garrett?” she asks, when we get there, I don't think I can tell her the truth, so I take a deep breath,
“He wasn't who I thought he was” then I start crying again, because he was, he just wasn't what I thought.
“Did he hurt you?” she looks scared and angry as she grips my shoulders.
“No mum, he didn't hurt me.” He didn't hurt me on purpose anyway. She relaxes.
“Come on, I'll make some tea, it'll be okay.” But I can't see how, he's dead. She makes me tea, and then turns to me,
“I'm sorry to leave you now, but I have to go see my friend from work, her son's in hospital and she really needs my support.” I need your support! I almost shout, but instead I say I'll be fine. And when she's out the door I curl up and don't move till she comes home.
I don't sleep that night, and when I do the next there are nightmares about him dying, which are more exhausting than not sleeping at all. My world has been turned upside-down, I feel like I'm drowning, nothing seems to matter anymore. and all because of the moment I found that I couldn't hold his hand.

The days stretch long and hard, at work I get told off for looking depressed, the rest of the time I stay home in my room trying to forget that I ever met him. But nothing works, I start running on my way back from work, and then for as long as I can every day, It make the pain fade slightly, but only while I'm running. It comes back as hard as ever when I stop.
I regret that I'd run from him, I miss him, on the mornings when I pass the reserve I feel a pang of disappointment every time he isn't there, simultaneously I'm terrified that he will be.
I'm walking towards the house after work when I finally decide to talk to my mother about it, I know I need time to think, but she won't be home for a while yet. I unlock the house and get ready for a shower, planning what to say. I have to be calm and collected, to appear as sane as possible. It's all very well for her to believe in ghosts, but to it's going to be hard for her to believe my story. I try to imagine how she will react, what she will say, but I can't. Tears start to fall, mingling with the warm water.

I hear her first, I must have fallen asleep on the couch, the TV plays silently in front of me, flashes of colour, people smiling. I turn away and my neck cricks, ow. Then I sit up fast, I have to tell her now.
“Mom, how was work?” my voice sounds just as tired as she looks. She sighs and takes off her shoes,
“Stressful, my brain feels old” she flashes me a brief smile, plopping down on the couch beside me.
“What about you, how was your day?” now was my chance, I fumble for a second.
“I need to tell you something, it's about Garrett.”

When I finish telling her, she sits there silently for a long time, then, frowning slightly, she asks the one thing I know I can answer.
“Are you sure? I mean you could have made a mistake.”
“I'm sure,”
“Then I have one more question for you,” she takes a deep breath. “What does he look like?”
I describe him to her, in as much detail as possible, and as I do I miss him more. But when I'm done she says something that changes everything.
“He's not dead honey.”
“What?”
“Do you remember my workmate, how her son is in hospital?” I nod, hope rising so fast I feel scared. “Well, his name is Garrett and he fits your description. He's in a coma.”
“We have to go see him!” I want to run to him.
“I already have, I went with his mother for support.” I twist my hands together, and frowning, I ask how it happened.
“Car crash, look, we'll talk about it with his mother tomorrow, I'm sure she wont mind us visiting him.”
“Mom, thank you so much.” She smiles when I hug her.
“Come, lets have dinner.”
But I can't eat, and when I go to bed I can't sleep either. I'm lying on my back, staring at the dark ceiling when I decide to go and find him, to talk to him. It's late, past midnight, I dress silently, then pad down the hall. Holding my shoes in one hand, I carefully open the door with the other. Once outside I slip on my sneakers and start running.
I wait in the reserve till my hand go numb with cold, the dew soaks though my shoes, making my toes itch, but I don't leave, I wait.
“Garrett.” I whisper, a cloud of steam rises from my mouth as I say it. I wonder what he will say, I imagine he will be angry with me. Or maybe he doesn't even care.
“I'm here” the words drift across the grass, I spin around to face him, and feel guilty, he looks even more tired and sick than last time I saw him.
“I don't know why or how you see me, but no one else can, not even my own mother.” he walks towards me. “you didn't even know you were different,” he lifts one hand, then drops it again. “I am so sorry I scared you away.”
“Garrett, I don't think you're really-” I stop and take a deep breath, “dead”
“What?” his eyes are wide, “No, I died in a car crash, you saw what happened when you tried to touch me,”
“I think you're in a coma, I'm not certain, but if it's not you I don't know what I'll do.” A car crash. “You have to come with me to the hospital tomorrow.”
“How could I not know this?” He runs his hand over his face, and then looks at me from between is fingers. “I'm alive,” He whispers, suddenly smiling. I don't want to think about what will happen if it's not him, I smile back. “I'd better go back, goodnight Garrett”
“Goodnight” he reaches for me, and again he drops his hand back to his side. I'm about to leave but instead I turn back to him.
“Garrett, I'm sorry I ran from you.”
“It's okay, don't worry about it, and I'll be there tomorrow.” I know he watches me as I walk away. It has to be him, it has to be.

I'm sitting in the waiting room, I already know that Garrett's somewhere in the building, in a coma. Because he's standing in front of me, telling me about his mother, who's sitting beside me, waiting. I pretend he isn't here, so I don't look crazy, but my mum knows, she smiles.
When we walk quietly into the room I start crying, which sets his mother off. He's lying on the bed, there are shadows under his closed eyes, he looks sick. I realized then just how insubstantial the Garrett I know is. I look back at him, But he is gone.
I know where he is though, turning back to the bed, I see his eyelids flutter. And I can't help it, I go to him and take his hand in mine, he's alive, waking up. I wipe the tears from my eyes, and smile. It feels like summer.