Yesterday was Father's Day. I realized this around noon and kicked myself for not picking out six sentences from one of my back-burner WIPs that fits a Father's Day theme. So for a belated Father's Day, I present a short story I titled "The Haunted Wedding". It's in it's second draft so I appreciate any comments on how I can make this better, especially because I may submit it to a writing contest if its good enough. I hope you enjoy it!
The Haunted
Wedding
I once saw
the ghost of a bride’s late husband at her second wedding. He was in parking lot of the church. I saw him sitting on the edge of a truck bed
smoking a cigarette. Just like old
times.
**********
The Rahker family
had moved in across the street when I was just three years old. My family wouldn’t have paid them much
attention, but they had a daughter my age, and one of their three boys was my
brother’s age. Needless to say, our
family’s friendship was inevitable.
Since my
father wasn’t too involved with us kids and my new friend’s father was, Martin became a bit of a surrogate
dad. He’s the one that taught me how to roller-blade. After hours of showing Lauren
and I how to push our blades against the ground and letting us try on our own,
we were finally taking off.
“There you
go! You got it,” he said in between
puffs of his Marlboro.
**********
My parents
would always tell us how dangerous smoking was and about the damage it does to
a person’s body. Even this chain smoker told us kids to never start, because now
he couldn’t quit. You could even hear
the damage done to Martin’s lungs every time he coughed; the crinkling wheeze
followed by the rasping hacks. It was
only a matter of time until it consumed him.
**********
Martin did
end up quitting, but only because he needed to start cancer treatment. The radiation and chemo took quite a toll on
his body, and the cancer did its fair share as well. It was strange seeing this man that was once
so strong start wasting away. First his
hair went then his muscles, and finally his spirit.
After the
end came I didn’t know how to act around Lauren anymore. She didn’t have a dad anymore and I had never
experienced a tremendous loss. I didn’t
understand her mourning process and it put a huge strain on our friendship. As
a result, out friendship went the same way as her father –slowly, but surely.
*********
Many years
later, after a little reconnecting with our old friends, my family was invited
to the widow’s wedding. Everyone was
excited to see her finally get remarried.
Even her grown children were happy to see her smile once again.
**********
I saw the ghost as I was walking to
the door of the church. Martin was
there. That face was unmistakable -right
down to the signature smoke hanging from his lips. I didn’t believe in apparitions, but there he
was in front of me, as solid as can be.
After a few
minutes of being enveloped by this surreal scene, I realized that I wasn’t
looking at a solid phantom, but rather at Martin’s oldest son.
I hadn’t seen him since he was a
teenager, but he had inherited nearly every trait of his father- his jaw line,
his cheekbones, his receding hairline, and his taste for tobacco.
*********
I still claim I saw a ghost, but I
still don’t believe in phantom spirits. A ghost is the imprint of a person’s
soul left on the earth after death, and that is exactly what I saw at the
wedding.
