13 Ghost Stories in 13 Days
Right Now
Derek was perpetually single and eternally miserable. He sat alone, across from his best friends, Peggy and Geoff. They were eating pulled pork nachos and drinking Miller High Life.
“That girl over there just smiled at you,” Peggy said, pointing to a curly-haired brunette in a tight black Van Halen t-shirt, at the end of the bar.
“She’s cute,” Geoff said. “You unironically love 80s music.”
Derek looked up. It was true. He did unironically love 80s music. And she was indeed smiling at him. He looked down at his uneaten nachos.
“I’m not going to date a girl who drinks alone at The Devil’s Tavern,” Derek mumbled.
Peggy exhaled deeply, the way she always did when she felt anyone was acting illogical. Geoff looked toward the floor, the way he always did when Peggy made his friends feel bad.
“You’re not willing to meet a girl at a bar,” Peggy said.
“It’s trashy,” Derek said.
“It’s how Peggy and I met,” Geoff said.
“Sorry,” Derek said.
“Let me finish,” Peggy said, shooting them both a look. “You’re not willing to meet anyone at a bar, but you won’t try online dating. So how exactly do you expect to find someone? Do you think you’re just going to be driving down the street and a lonely girl in distress will flag you down and then you’ll dance under the moonlight and fall in love? That doesn’t happen.”
“And when it does, the girl has usually been dead for 35 years,” Geoff said.
Peggy glared at Geoff to show he wasn’t helping.
“I’m just old fashioned,” Derek insisted.
“Time is a made up construct,” Peggy asked. “What does ‘old fashioned’ even mean?”
Derek shrugged.
“I think it means we should order a round of old fashioneds,” Geoff said, trying to get the attention of the bartender.
Derek leaned back in his chair. Peggy was being Peggy, but, truthfully, he did always envision running into a beautiful girl in a romantic and unrealistic way. A glance across a crowded train car. Reaching for the same obscure LP at an independent record store. Dancing in the moonlight. The kind of cute meet he could tell his grandkids about. Who were Geoff and Peggy to judge, anyway? They didn’t even know each other’s names until their second date. They had nothing in common and were a toxic couple who couldn’t do anything without drinking. He didn’t want that. He wanted something real.
“I just want something real,” Derek said.
“What does that even mean?” Peggy repeated. “Everything is real, Derek. Grow up. You’re not a character in some ’80s movie.”
Derek went silent. He looked up at the girl in the Van Halen t-shirt. She smiled at him. He turned away. When he looked back she was paying her bar tab. He watched her slip on a denim jacket and exit the bar. He was never going to meet a girl at Devil’s Tavern.
“I’m going home,” Derek finally said.
“One more drink,” Geoff said.
Derek shook his head and turned toward the exit.
“He’s going to die alone,” he heard Peggy say to Geoff, loud enough for him to hear.
“Doesn’t mean he won’t meet someone,” Geoff replied.
Derek drove toward the bad side of town, unsure of any destination.
He came around a blind curve and swerved at the last second to avoid a shadowy figure in the street. He cursed out loud. He looked in the rearview mirror. It was the girl from the bar with the Van Halen t-shirt and the denim jacket. She was standing in front of a smoky car, frantically waving her arms. He flicked on his hazards and backed toward her.
“Oh thank God,” she said. “This is a bad part of town.”
“What seems to be the problem?” he said.
“The problem is my car’s a piece of junk,” she said.
He looked at the car. It was a beat-up 1984 Buick. He was surprised it still ran.
“Do you want me to call a tow truck?”
“They never show up,” she said. “A ride home would be nice.”
“Of course,” Derek said.
He drove in silence for a few miles, as she talked and directed him. Her name was Traci, she lived in Shady Falls, and her car was always overheating.
“Haven’t I seen you at Devil’s Tavern?” Derek asked.
“Every night since forever,” she said.
He looked down at her Van Halen t-shirt. She was prettier than he noticed at the bar.
“So, I have to ask,” he said. “The clothes. The hair. The car. Were you at like an ’80s party tonight? Or is it ironic?”
She stared straight ahead.
“I guess maybe I was doing it ironically,” she said. “But I sincerely love Van Halen.”
He fiddled with his iPhone and pulled up his Van Halen playlist. The opening chords of “You Really Got Me” filled the car. She played air guitar and he played air drums. They sang along together. It felt natural.
“You’re awesome,” she said.
They listened to “Everybody Wants Some” next. Then “Panama.” They both knew every word.
He turned the car toward the highway. She stuck out a hand.
“Let’s go down by the river and keep listening to music,” she said. “I haven’t had this much fun in a really long time.”
He parked the car and turned the volume up on his cell phone. She took off her denim jacket and threw it in his back seat during “Hot for Teacher.” Then they took each other’s hands and slow danced to “Dance the Night Away.” She rested her head on his shoulders and gripped his back softly.
“This was so fun,” she said.
They looked into each other’s eyes. “Right Now” started playing from the speaker and he started to do air piano. He waited for her to join in with air guitar or air drums, but she did neither. She looked at him oddly.
“Not a Sammy Hagar fan?” he asked.
“He’s great,” she said. “I’ve just never heard this song before.”
He fast forwarded the playlist. “Running with the Devil” came on. She rolled back her head and sang to the moon. It went on like that for hours, he skipped the rare song she didn’t know. He drove her home when his phone ran out of battery. She pointed him to a low slung rancher on the far side of town, kissed him softly goodnight, and ran off toward the backyard.
He didn’t notice until much later that she’d left her denim jacket behind.
He told his friends the story the next morning over an emergency brunch. Geoff and Peggy were both three mimosas deep. Derek was too excited to drink.
“See,” Peggy said. “I told you you could meet someone at a bar.”
“No,” Derek said. “I met her the real way.”
Peggy made a smirk that showed she knew she was right. Geoff stared at the bottom of his allegedly bottomless mimosa.
“I don’t want to be ‘That Guy,’” he said. “But she’s pretty clearly a ghost who died in the 1980s. That’s why she doesn’t know ‘Right Now.’ It came out in ’92. If you go back to return that denim jacket, an old lady’s going to answer the door and tell you her daughter died 35 years ago this very night.”
Peggy signed deeply and gave her boyfriend a look that said, “You are an idiot and I regret ever letting you take me home from Devil’s Tavern.”
Derek threw up his hands.
“She thinks they weren’t as good with Sammy Hagar,” he said. “Why does it have to be a ghost? Why can’t this be love?”
“That’s the spirit,” Peggy said.
“He’s just quoting Van Halen,” Geoff said. “Girl’s dead. Thirty-five years ago this very night. Ask what she remembers about O.J. Simpson. She’ll say his football career. I guarantee it.”
Peggy signalled for another carafe of orange juice.
“Grow up, Geoff,” she said. “You’re so obsessed with O.J. Simpson.”
“It was a big deal,” Geoff said.
Derek stood up.
“I’ll prove it,” he said.
Geoff stared at Peggy, unhappily.
Derek walked up to the low-slung ranch house. The denim jacket was draped over his shoulder. He knocked hard on the front door. After what felt like eternity, an old woman answered the door.
“Good morning ma’am,” Derek said, in his most respectful voice. “Is Traci home?”
The woman looked hard at him.
“No one by that name lives here,” she said.
Derek gripped the denim jacket, worried that Geoff was right.
“I dropped her off last night?” he said.
The woman slammed the door and repeated. “I’ve lived here for 30 years. No one by that name has lived here. Ever.”
He stood alone in front of the door, dumbfounded. Was Geoff’s theory really possible?
Suddenly, Traci came jogging out from the side of the house. She was still wearing the same clothes from the night before.
“Derek?” she said. “What are you … Oh my God, my jacket! You’re the best!”
He looked from the denim jacket, to Traci, to the front door, to his Honda.
“I live in the apartment downstairs,” she said. “My mom rents the place from Mrs. Caruthers, who doesn’t exactly love me. Sorry I didn’t tell you. I was embarrassed, I guess.”
Derek handed over the denim jacket uneasily.
“What do you remember about O.J. Simpson?” he asked.
“Great football player,” Traci said, then she laughed and mimed a stabbing motion. “Listen I had a great time. Do you want to meet me at Devil’s Tavern tonight?”
“I’d like that.”
Derek sat with Peggy and Geoff, waiting for Traci to arrive.
“I still think she’s been dead for 35 years,” Geoff said, sucking on the dregs of a pumpkin ale.
“Geoffrey,” Peggy said. “Enough.”
Derek ignored them. He was too excited for their negativity.
Traci walked in and smiled deeply at him. She’d ironed out her curly hair and put on jeans and a turtleneck. She looked modern, yet timeless.
“I think I was probably leaning too much into the Van Halen thing last night,” she said to Peggy and Geoff. “Maybe it was ironic. This is how I normally wear my hair.”
Geoff looked at Peggy.
They drank together and had a good time. Peggy looked pleased that Derek had finally put himself out there. Geoff looked uneasy. Derek had never looked happier. They sang songs and swapped stories and made fun of the other patrons in the bar.
At the end of the night, Traci came awkwardly up to Derek and asked him to meet her in the lady’s room. This wasn’t something he’d normally do, but Traci was the kind of girl you leave your comfort zone for.
She shut the door behind him.
“I know you live with your mom but we could just gone to my place — ”
She put a finger on his lips and then directed him to a faded black and white picture on the wall of the bathroom. It was of a group of greasers in leather jackets and ladies with big hair in poodle skirts. At the bottom it said, Devil’s Tavern ‘Remember the ’50s Sock Hop’: 1985.”
“We don’t have pictures in the men’s room,” Derek said.
Traci pointed to the picture.
“Look harder.”
Her finger rested on the corner. A girl in a poodle skirt stood holding a can of New Coke. It looked just like Peggy.
Derek looked on perplexed.
“Where’d your friend Geoff meet Peggy?” she asked.
“Here,” Derek said. “At a 1950s sock hop and flip cup tournament. A few years ago. What does this mean?”
Traci looked carefully at the photo.
“It means she’s a ghost,” Traci said.
“From the ‘50s?” Derek asked.
“The ‘80s,” Traci said. “She died at an ironic 1950s party. I think.”
“What should we do?”
“Who cares?” Traci said. “As long as your friend’s happy.”
“He is,” Derek said. But he wasn’t so sure.
They got back to their table. Peggy was standing at the jukebox, playing a Michael Jackson song. Traci went over to talk to her.
Derek took a seat across from Geoff.
“Hey,” Derek said. “I never asked. What does Peggy think about O.J. Simpson? What does she think about Michael Jackson?”
Geoff looked to Traci, then to the lady’s room, then to his girlfriend, and let out a deep breath.
“Traci’s great and definitely not dead,” Geoff said. “Sorry for doubting you. I just didn’t want you to make the same mistake I did.”
The only rule of 13 Ghost Stories in 13 Days is that the story must be posted the same night I started writing it.
2020:
Day 13 A Very Kaboom Halloween
Day 12 Save the Cat
Day 11 Vampire Weekend
Day 10 What We Drink at Brunch Besides Mimosas
Day 9 Lightbulb Moments
Day 8 Gift of the Magi 2
Day 7 The Hook
Day 6 Die School Musical
Day 5 The Viscount’s Supporter
Day 4 Eternal Necromancer
Day 3 Right Now
Day 2 Good Bones
Day 1 The Girl with the Green Mask
2016:
Day 1 The Ghost’s Girlfriend
Day 2 The Girl with the Puka Shell Necklace
Day 3 The Time I Went to the Old Church Later Than I Should Have
Day 4 Ride Scare
Day 5 Miranda, Who Appears as a Portent of Death
Day 6 A Halloween Carol
Day 7 El Mariachi de los Muertos
Day 8 Death on Demand
Day 9 The Ballad of the Cursed Mudville Maroons
Day 10 Officer Mac’s Last Day
Day 11 Chad vs. The Genie
Day 12 Luigi’s Coins
Day 13 Somewhere Beyond the C
