A short story by Andy Rausch
Matthew Todd’s family moved into the Broadwell House on the first day of autumn. The Broadwell House was the second oldest house in Bakersville and had been built by a successful businessman named Thomas Broadwell. Matthew and his little sister, Davina, loved their new house. The big brick house was spacious and had three stories, which neither of them had ever seen in a house before. It also had a giant back yard with several trees, one of which supported a tire swing.
“Can the third floor be my room?” Davina asked.
Their parents chuckled. “You want an entire floor to yourself?”
“Yes. I’m seven and I am old enough to have my own floor.”
Daddy had picked up Davina in his arms, grinning. “No Davina, you can’t have a whole floor to yourself. Nobody gets a whole floor to themselves.”
This displeased Davina, but the revelation that the entire third floor would be used as a giant play area cheered her up. That third floor was hands down her favorite thing about the new house.
“What about you, Matthew?” Mommy asked. “What’s your favorite thing about the house?”
“I like the neat dumbwaiter thingies,” he said. The dumbwaiters were small manual elevators that had originally been used to deliver dishes of food up to the upper rooms. Then the servants would use a pulley to deliver the empty dishes back downstairs after dinner. Matthew thought the dumbwaiter system was really cool, which concerned his parents.
“I don’t want you playing around with that,” Daddy said.
“Yes,” Mommy agreed. “It’s dangerous.”
Matthew had tried to protest, but his parents wouldn’t listen. That was it, they said, the dumbwaiters were off limits. Despite this, Matthew still planned to put their tabby cat Jeremiah inside the tiny elevator one day when no one was around. That, he believed, would be a little secret just between he and Jeremiah.
Matthew and Davina were happy with their new house and over the next few months they became very comfortable there. But things changed when Mrs. Marshall, the elderly woman who lived next door, let slip that she believed the house was haunted. Once she realized she’d frightened the children half to death, she apologized. Nevertheless, Matthew and Davina remained afraid.
That night their parents sat them down for a discussion.
“We’ve lived here for two months,” Daddy said. “Tell me, children, have you seen or heard any ghosts during that time?”
Matthew and Davina looked at one another. Then they looked up at their daddy, but said nothing.
“See,” Mommy said. “You haven’t seen or heard anything because there aren’t any ghosts here.”
Davina protested. “But Mrs. Marshall says—”
“Mrs. Marshall is a crazy old busy-body,” Daddy said.
Mommy told him to shush, but Daddy said, “But she is, honey. You know it and I know it. She’s just a crazy old woman telling crazy old woman stories.” Then he looked at Matthew and Davina. “Listen to me, kids, there are no ghosts here. Absolutely none.”
Matthew looked into his Daddy’s eyes. “How do you know?”
“Because there are no such thing as ghosts.”
And that was the end of the discussion. Matthew and Davina were still scared to go to sleep, but eventually the night passed. They were still frightened the next night, but that passed too. Eventually life continued the way it had been before and Matthew and Davina forgot about what Mrs. Marshall had told them.
*
Things went on this way and life was normal again until one night when Matthew awakened to the sound of a girl’s voice. “Hi, Matthew,” the voice said. He sat up in his bed, blinking. He rubbed his eyes and looked around but saw nothing.
“Over here,” the voice said.
Matthew turned towards the dumbwaiter to see that its sliding door was open. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. That’s when he saw the little girl’s face staring at him from inside the dumbwaiter. He gasped. His chest tightened and he wanted to scream, but the little girl said, “Don’t scream, Matthew. I’m your friend.”
He sat up in his bed and stared at her. “Do you promise?”
“Of course,” the little girl said, smiling. Now that his eyes were used to the darkness, he could see her clearly.
“Who are you?” Matthew asked.
“My name is Sarah,” the girl said. “Sarah Broadwell.”
“What are you doing here?”
“This is my house.”
“No, it’s not,” Matthew said. “It’s our house.”
Sarah nodded. “Yes, it’s your house now, but it used to be my house. My daddy had it built special just for us.”
Matthew stared at her, his eyes widening. “Your daddy had the house built?”
“Yes,” Sarah said, nodding.
“But . . . wasn’t that a long time ago?”
“Yes, it was.”
Matthew said, “Then you must be pretty old. Older than my parents even. But . . . you don’t look old. You look like a kid . . . like me.”
Sarah’s expression changed and she looked sad. “I’m eleven.”
Matthew wrinkled his face, trying to understand. “You’re only two years older than me. So then how could your daddy have had this house built? It’s old. Real old.”
“Well,” Sarah began, “I was eleven when I had my accident.”
“What accident?”
She told him about the time she tried to climb inside the dumbwaiter and fell down to the bottom floor, breaking her neck.
“You broke your neck? That must have hurt really bad.”
“It was worse than that,” she told him. “I died, Matthew.”
Matthew’s mouth fell open. He stared at her for a moment, trying to understand what she was telling him. “How could you be dead, Sarah? When my grandpa died, they put him inside the ground over at Plainview Cemetery and we never saw him again. Mommy says he’s up in Heaven with the angels.”
Sarah smiled. “My body is buried in the ground at Plainview Cemetery too,” she said. “Right next to my mother and father and my two sisters, Bonnie and Ella.”
Matthew rubbed his eyes again. He wondered if he was really seeing this little girl inside the dumbwaiter who claimed to be dead and buried. When he opened his eyes again, she was still there staring at him.
“Okay,” Matthew said. “If you’re dead and you’re in the ground, then how can you be here with me?”
Sarah looked at him with big sad eyes. They were pretty—Matthew could see that even in the dark—but they were sad.
“I’m a ghost, Matthew.”
He stared at her with his mouth hanging open again.
“Seriously?”
Sarah nodded. “I’m dead serious.” Then she giggled a little. “Dead serious. That’s funny, isn’t it? Because I’m dead.”
Matthew didn’t laugh. Staring at the face of this pretty girl who was being so nice to him, he wasn’t sure whether or not he should be afraid.
“Are you scared of me, Matthew?”
“No. I’m not scared.”
“Good,” Sarah said, smiling. “I died 153 years ago today. On Valentine’s Day.”
Matthew thought about this. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow.”
Sarah giggled again. “It’s after midnight, silly. It’s already tomorrow. It’s Valentine’s Day.”
Matthew nodded. “I guess you’re right.”
She told him she was only able to be seen once a year on the anniversary of her death. And when she came back, she was only able to speak to one person.
“And I’m the only person you can talk to?”
Sarah nodded. “Just you, Matthew.”
After this, she climbed out of the dumbwaiter. When she did, Matthew could see through her transparent body, like it was made of steam.
“Can I sit on the bed beside you?”
Matthew told her she could. He then stayed awake all night talking to her. The two of them giggled and had fun and Matthew kept thinking about how pretty she was. He believed she was prettier than any of the girls who went to his school. But, unfortunately, she was a ghost.
When daylight came, Sarah convinced Matthew to pretend he was sick and stay home from school so they could spend more time together. After all, this was the only day she would be here and he was the only person she could talk to.
*
Matthew convinced his parents he was sick, so he got to stay home. Since both his mom and dad had to go to work, his grandma came to stay with him. She stayed downstairs, however, so he could sleep. But he didn’t sleep. Instead, he sat up, still in his pajamas, talking to his new friend.
As they sat next to one another on the bed, Matthew looked at Sarah and asked, “What’s it like to be a ghost?”
She smiled awkwardly. “That’s a weird question, Matthew.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I’ve never met a real ghost before.”
She told him it was okay. Being a ghost, she said, wasn’t terrible, but she hated not being able to talk to people or be seen but once a year.
“Some of the Valentine’s Days were really hard,” she explained. “There were years when no one lived in this house, so I would come back and there would be no one to talk to. Then there was an old woman who lived here for a while, but she couldn’t hear and she could barely see, so she never even knew I was here.”
Matthew looked down, considering this. Then he said, “I don’t think I’d like being a ghost.”
She looked at him and smiled. “I don’t think I like it all that much either, Matthew.”
Matthew was lying on his bed and Sarah was beside by the window when his grandma came in, bringing him a bowl of hot soup. She looked at him, unable to see Sarah. “I brought you some chicken noodle soup. I remember you didn’t like cream of mushroom when I made that, so I thought maybe you’d like this better.”
Matthew nodded and spoke in a croaky fake sick voice. “Thank you, Grandma. I appreciate that.”
She positioned the tray on his lap and set up the mug of hot cocoa on his nightstand. Then she kissed him on his forehead, embarrassing him a little. Sensing this, his grandma said, “I’m sorry about that, Matthew. I just want you to get better soon, okay?”
Matthew smiled at her politely and she turned and went to the door. When she reached it, she stopped and looked back at him. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” He told her no and promised that he would call for her if he needed anything. Then she went back downstairs to let him sleep.
Once she was gone, Sarah floated over to his side and looked down at the soup. “That looks good,” she said. “I sure wish I could eat.”
He looked at her. “You don’t eat?”
She shook her head.
“Never?”
“No, Matthew,” she said. “Ghosts don’t need food.”
She sat down on the side of the bed and watched him eat. Then she said, “I miss my family.” Hearing the sadness in her voice, he looked up at her. “Where are they?”
“They’re dead, silly.”
“I know, but aren’t they ghosts like you?”
Sarah tilted her head, looking at him strangely. “I don’t know where they are, but I don’t see them. I’ve never seen anyone since…”
There was a long silence, so Matthew asked, “Since when?”
She looked at him with sad eyes. “Since I died.”
Then she leaned forward and cupped her hands around her face.
Matthew leaned forward.
“Don’t be sad,” he said. “Are you… crying?”
She looked up at him. “No, Matthew. I can’t cry either. I can’t do much of anything.”
He felt bad for her. Staring into her sad eyes, he thought again about how pretty she was. Thinking about this, the words blurted out of his mouth. “Gee, you’re beautiful, Sarah.”
Her expression brightened and her eyes got bigger. “Really? You think I’m beautiful?”
Matthew nodded. “I do. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever known. I mean, I’ve seen some pretty women on television, but I think you’re even prettier than they are.”
She stared into his eyes, and Matthew could feel himself falling in love with a ghost.
“It made me jealous when your grandmother kissed you,” she said. “No one’s kissed me in a long, long time.”
Matthew stared at her, wondering if she wanted him to kiss her.
As they continued staring into each other’s eyes in silence, Sarah cracked a smile. “Would you do something for me, Matthew?”
Staring at her, feeling lost in her beauty, the words came out of his mouth before he even realized he was saying them. “I would do anything for you, Sarah.”
She leaned in towards him. “Would you…”
“What?”
“Would you kiss me?”
Matthew didn’t say anything. All his life he’d been afraid of girls, but he wasn’t afraid now. He leaned forward as if he’d kissed hundreds of girls. Both of them puckered their lips. As their faces grew near one another, Sarah closed her eyes. But Matthew kept his open.
Then, at the moment their lips should have touched… they didn’t. Instead Matthew’s face passed through hers. Again, it was like Sarah was made of steam.
Realizing what had happened, both of them leaned back with wide-open eyes.
“What happened?” Matthew asked.
Sarah stared at him, startled, and then she doubled over from sadness.
“It’s because I’m a ghost,” she said. “I guess we can’t touch.”
Matthew stared at her, trying to understand. “So you’ve never tried to kiss or touch anybody before? Not since… since you died?”
She looked at him with a sad, dreamy expression. “No, I never did.”
Seeing that Sarah was sad, Matthew wanted to cheer her up. He thought about it for a moment and then said, “Sarah?”
She looked up and they made eye contact again.
“Yes?”
“Would you be my Valentine?”
Her eyes got big and she looked like she would have cried if she could have. She smiled and then giggled happily. “I’ve never been anyone’s Valentine before!”
Matthew stared at her. “So you will?”
She reached her arms out like she was going to hug him and then stopped herself, remembering that she couldn’t. “Yes, Matthew,” she said. “Of course I’ll be your Valentine!”
The two of them laughed and smiled and had a good time for the rest of the day and evening, stopping only when Matthew’s mom entered the room to bring him supper or tell him to take a bath. As Matthew and Sarah talked, they fell in love with one other.
As midnight grew near, Sarah said, “Matthew?”
He looked at her, really staring into her eyes. “Yes, Sarah?”
“I’ve never been in love before.”
“Me neither,” Matthew said. “But then I’m only nine.”
Sarah laughed. “Well, Matthew, I’m 153!”
They both laughed at this.
“Matthew,” she said again.
“Yes, Sarah?”
“I do love you, you know.”
He looked at her pretty eyes and said, “I love you, too, Sarah.”
When they both knew their time was almost up, Sarah asked, “Will you meet me again next year on Valentine’s Day?”
He smiled a big smile. “You know I will, Sarah.”
“And you’ll think about me every day until we see each other again?”
“Of course I will.”
They talked for a few more minutes. Then, when Matthew was talking about his teacher, Mrs. Milton, he looked up and saw that Sarah was gone.
*
Matthew thought about his ghostly friend every day for the first few months, but he eventually began to question whether or not she had been real. Maybe he really had been sick and had had a fever, which had caused him to believe he’d seen her. The more he thought about it, the more he believed this. After all, ghosts weren’t real. His daddy had told him so, and his daddy was very smart.
One day, Matthew remembered Sarah while he was at school, so after class he asked his teacher, Mrs. Milton, if she believed in ghosts. Mrs. Milton blinked and stared at him, considering this. “No, Matthew,” she said. “I don’t believe in ghosts. How about you? Do you believe in them?”
“No,” Matthew said. And he meant it. Time had passed and had fooled him into believing Sarah had been a dream and nothing more.
By the time Valentine’s Day came around again the next year, he’d completely forgotten her. So when she spoke to him, saying his name and waking him up in the middle of the night, he was startled. He sat up, blinking his eyes and rubbing them. He looked over at Sarah, sitting on his bean bag.
She was smiling and she looked just as beautiful as she had before. “Did you miss me, Matthew?” she asked.
He stared at her, unable to speak. This worried her and she frowned. “Are you okay?”
“I… I…” he started. “I didn’t think you’d be back.”
She tilted her head, smiling at him. “I told you I would, Matthew. I told you I’d be back on Valentine’s Day.”
He stared at her. She was completely unchanged. She was wearing the same dress and her hair looked exactly the same. The light was pouring in from the streetlamp outside, falling on her, and he could see again that she was transparent; he could see right through her.
It hit him now that Sarah was real and that she really was a ghost.
“I forgot,” he said.
Sarah looked at him with big sad eyes. “You forgot about me?”
“Well…” he began, “I didn’t see you for a long time and I kind of forgot you were real. I thought maybe you were just a dream.”
She smiled weakly. “I’m not a dream, Matthew.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I was wrong.”
She looked into his eyes. “Do you still love me?”
His brain was unsure what to say, but his heart knew. “Yes, Sarah. I still love you. You’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.”
She smiled a big smile, but her eyes were still sad. “Do you really think so?”
“Of course I do.”
“I thought about you all year.”
“Where were you?” he asked. “Where do you go when you leave here?”
She made a confused expression, biting her lip and trying to figure it out. Then she looked at him. “I don’t know, Matthew.”
He blinked. “You don’t know where you go?”
“No, I don’t,” she said. “I know it sounds strange, but it’s… it’s a different kind of place. I don’t know where I am, and there’s no one else there. It’s just me.”
“No one’s there? Not ever?”
She nodded. “Never.”
Matthew felt sorry for her. “That sounds lonely, Sarah.”
Her eyes were big and sad. She nodded. “It’s terribly lonely.”
“I’m sorry I forgot you, Sarah. But… no one here believes in ghosts. My daddy says ghosts don’t exist.”
She frowned. “But you know they do.”
He nodded. “You’re right, but… somehow I forgot.”
Matthew swung his legs around and dangled them over the side of the bed so he was facing her.
“You’re wearing different pajamas this year,” she said.
He looked down at them, forgetting what he was wearing. Seeing that they were Batman pajamas, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “My grandma got them for me for Christmas.”
“There was another man on the ones you had on last year,” Sarah said. “Who was that?”
He smiled at her. “Black Panther. Don’t you know him?”
Sarah smiled. “I died 154 years ago, Matthew. I don’t think Black Panther existed then.”
Matthew considered this. “Maybe he didn’t. I don’t know.”
They sat and talked for a few minutes, catching up, and then Sarah stared at him with a very serious expression. Matthew knew she was going to say something important.
“Matthew?”
“Yes?”
“Will you be my Valentine again this year?”
Matthew smiled. “Of course I will.” He stared at her, thinking about how beautiful she was. Then he thought about how none of the girls at his school seemed to like him very much. “I wish you were still alive.”
She looked at him for a long moment with a sad look on her face. “I wish that too, Matthew. But I didn’t have a choice.”
Matthew nodded. Then he looked into her eyes again. “Do you think I’ll be a ghost, too?” he asked. “Not now, but when I die.”
Sarah thought about this for a moment. “I don’t really know. I don’t know if everyone who dies becomes a ghost.” She paused before adding, “I don’t even know if my own mother and father and sisters are ghosts. I never see anyone. It’s just me, and I’m so lonely, Matthew.” She got up from the bean bag and came towards him, stopping right in front of him. She stared into his eyes. “That’s why I thought about you all year. You’re all I thought about.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” she said. “I just kept thinking about how much I wanted to see you. How much I wanted to…”
“What?” he asked.
She looked down sadly. “Kiss your lips. But I can’t. It’s impossible.”
This made Matthew sad too. Then he thought. “Maybe there’s one thing we can do.”
She looked at him. “What’s that?”
“When men and women are in love in books and movies, they hug each other.”
“But we can’t hug,” Sarah said sadly. “Don’t you remember?”
“I was thinking. What if we wrap our arms around ourselves and hug ourselves with our eyes closed. Then when we do, we can tell each other that we love each other. Maybe if we do that, for just that minute, it will feel like we are hugging each other.”
She stared at him, saying nothing.
“Let’s try it,” Matthew said.
“Okay.”
Matthew closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around himself. With his eyes still closed, Matthew asked, “Are your eyes closed?”
“Yes,” Sarah lied, not telling him that she was unable to close her eyes because when she did she could see through them. But she lied because she wanted to make him happy. “My eyes are closed, Matthew.”
“I love you, Sarah Broadwell,” Matthew said, his eyes closed.
Sarah smiled as she watched him. “And I love you, Matthew Todd.”
Matthew held himself for a long moment before opening his eyes. After he opened them he said, “That was nice.”
“Yes,” Sarah said. “That was nice.”
The two of them talked and giggled until daylight. When his mom opened the door to wake him, she found him sitting on the bed, already awake. He pretended to be sick again, but she didn’t believe him this time. She felt his forehead and said he didn’t have a fever. So, Matthew had to go to school. But when he was at school, he thought about Sarah all day. During lunch break, he drew a picture of her on notebook paper.
When Matthew came home, he made a beeline upstairs and showed her Sarah drawing. She looked at it and smiled. “Is this me?”
“Yeah,” Matthew said. “I drew it today at lunch.”
She looked at him. “Nobody’s ever drawn a picture of me before!”
“I’ll draw you every year you come back.”
Matthew and Sarah spent the entire evening talking. As they did, Matthew just kept thinking about how pretty she was. When he stared into her eyes, he felt a happiness in his heart that he’d never felt before.
Matthew stayed awake and talked to Sarah until midnight arrived and she disappeared again. After she was gone, Matthew lay his head on his pillow and cried himself to sleep. And even then, he dreamt of her.
*
Six years passed, and Matthew was now sixteen. But Sarah was still eleven. She would never grow any older. She was 160 years old, but she would always look and think like an eleven year old. Because Matthew was older now, their relationship had started to feel strange. Even though they couldn’t kiss one another or even hold hands, Matthew didn’t like the idea of an eleven year old being in love with him, and he was no longer in love with her.
The last time Sarah had shown up on Valentine’s Day, everything had been awkward. They were no longer alike. The things that interested eleven year olds and the things that interested sixteen year olds were very different, and that was obvious when they talked. Matthew now saw the world the way a sixteen year old saw it, and Sarah would forever see things as an eleven year old would.
It had been uncomfortable, and Matthew had spent the past year considering what he should do about it. He had loved Sarah once. Even though she was a ghost, he would always consider her his first girlfriend. But now she felt more like a little sister. Mostly he just felt sorry for her; sorry she was dead; sorry she was a ghost; sorry he had grown too old to still be her boyfriend.
This year Matthew decided he would be gone when Sarah came. He would be gone the entire day. He would stay at his friend Mikey’s house. This meant he had to think of a good explanation so his parents would allow him to do it, but that was what his plan.
Tomorrow was the night before Valentine’s Day. She would show up at midnight just like she did every year, and this time he would be gone. Sarah would be lonely and have no one to talk to.
This made Matthew feel sad. Really, really sad. But he was too old to be Sarah’s boyfriend now and he would only continue to grow older. How could that possibly work? Eventually he would be a grownup, and there was no way he could be an eleven-year-old’s boyfriend. Besides, Matthew had a living girlfriend of his own now.
So that was it, Matthew thought. He would be gone for the next two nights, and he would find an excuse to be gone every Valentine’s Day from now on. He felt bad for Sarah, but this was the way things had to be.
*
Many years passed and Matthew grew up. He was now a thirty-one-year-old adult with a wife, Kate, and two children of his own. His son, David, was ten, and his daughter, Cassie, was nine. After Matthew’s parents had moved to Florida, Matthew had purchased the old house for his own family to live in.
As a grown man, Matthew had completely forgotten about Sarah. As he’d grown older, he’d started to believe once again that she had never really existed. He believed he had simply made her up, like she was a dream. And then, eventually, he’d forgotten about her completely.
Then one day when Matthew’s son David had been nine, he’d come and sat next to him on the couch and looked up at him with a very serious look in his eyes. “Daddy?” he’d said. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask me anything, champ,” Matthew said.
“Are ghosts real?”
This caused Matthew to remember that he had once believed in ghosts. And it caused him to remember that he had once believed that there was a little girl named Sarah who would visit him in this very house when he was a little boy. Matthew looked into his son’s eyes and said, “No, David. Ghosts aren’t real.” David had made a confused face and had then nodded, accepting this answer, and had gone off somewhere else in the house to play.
Matthew didn’t think anything about this. But then one morning after his wife had taken Cassie to school, David had stayed in bed and coughed what sounded like fake coughs. Matthew sat on the side of the boy’s bed.
“What’s the matter, champ?”
“I’m sick, Daddy,” David said. “Real sick.”
Matthew looked at him, thinking he didn’t look sick at all. He touched David’s forehead with his palm. His head felt cool.
“You don’t have a fever.”
“I need to stay home,” David said, sounding desperate. “Please, Daddy.”
“But you’ll miss your school Valentine’s Day party.”
“I don’t want to go,” David said. “I’m really sick.”
Matthew sat on the bed staring at his son. As he did, he thought of something crazy. He turned and looked at the dumbwaiter and remembered seeing Sarah inside it all those years before. Then he turned and looked at David again. Maybe, he thought, Sarah was still coming here every year on Valentine’s Day. And if she was, maybe she was visiting David now, just as she had once visited him.
This thought made Matthew happy.
“If I let you stay home, what are you going to do today?”
“I’m going to stay in bed,” David said. “Get some sleep and maybe read some comics.”
Matthew didn’t know if Sarah had ever been real, and he didn’t know if she was visiting David, but he decided to let his son stay home. Matthew remembered feeling bad for Sarah when he’d stopped seeing her, and the idea of Sarah and David being friends pleased him. If she really was coming back, she wouldn’t be lonely anymore. And Sarah had always been a good friend to Matthew, and he wanted his son to have that same kind of friendship.
Matthew touched his son’s head, letting his fingers slip through his hair. “Okay, champ, you can stay home today.”
David’s face lit up. “Thank you, Daddy!” Then he coughed another fake cough.
Matthew left the room and went downstairs for a while, thinking about Sarah and wondering if she was real and if she had indeed come back. About an hour later, Matthew snuck back upstairs and stood outside David’s closed door, listening. When he did, he heard David giggling. Then he heard his son say, “Of course I’ll be your Valentine, Sarah.”
Matthew stood in the hallway smiling and feeling happy for David and Sarah. Maybe, he thought, David would be a better friend to Sarah than he had been.
From Fever Dreams and Drunken Scribbles, Next Chapter Publishing, 2022.
authorandyrausch 