The Ghosts of Children Crossing

_{This is a STEEM-exclusive, original short story for Halloween 2017 written by @jedau No tricks, just treats. Enjoy!}

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A whoosh of a speeding car drove him awake. But, to his surprise, he was already standing. Tomas never finished high school, but he was sure he needed to be lying down to be asleep.

The draft that followed the car swept up dust that made him cough, knocking him out of his stupor. Now, he was sure that he was wide awake. He felt the sharp rocks and the cold granite beneath his feet. His slippers were so worn that he didn't feel like he was wearing anything at all. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he was anchored to where he stood.

The harsh sun glared high above him, as the cloudless sky didn't provide any aid. Tomas felt beads of sweat trickle down his back, but he didn't feel all that warm. In fact, he felt a bit cold.

He trembled as another car made its approach. It wasn't that it was hurtling towards him, it's just that, well… he wasn't entirely sure. He found himself ensconsed a few feet from the road, and yet he felt like he was an open target. The car, of course, just zoomed past, with the driver not even knowing Tomas was standing there.

    "Oh hey," a young boy greeted. "I wondered where you ran off to."

    "I-I… I'm sorry I," Tomas replied. "Do I know you?"

    "Ah jeez," the boy sighed, shaking his head. He looked familiar, but Tomas didn't have the faintest clue who he was. However, the tone with which the boy spoke suggested some sort of familiarity. "Look, man. The first couple of times we've been over this, it was cool, y'know? But c'mon, this is getting ridiculous."

    "Ease up, Pacho," a scruffy looking man interjected. The man clapped Tomas on the shoulder. "You know what the deal is."

Tomas turned to face the man, whose voice he was sure he recognized.

    "Edgar?" Tomas asked in a rather surprised tone.

    "What?" Edgar followed. "You look like you saw a ghost."

As far as Tomas was concerned, he certainly was. If his memory served him correctly, his cousin was mowed down by a runaway baby bus a year or so ago. But, due to recent events, he questioned the reliability of his memory.

    "Uh, no," Tomas retorted. "I, uh… It's just that—"

    "I'm screwing with you, bro," Edgar exclaimed. He and Pacho had a good laugh at Tomas' expense. "Yeah so, y'know. I'm just gonna rip off the band-aid, alright?"

    "Huh? What are you… What are you going on about?"

    "Hey, asshole," Pacho interrupted, tapping Tomas' arm with the back of his hand. He winked and pointed at the confused Tomas. The boy made finger guns and a clicking noise to make light of the situation. "You're dead."

    "Wait, what?" Tomas asked. His mouth formed a slight grin, as he refused to believe what the boy said. "Is this a joke?"

    "I wish I could say it is, cous." Edgar wrapped his arm around Tomas' shoulder. He sighed as he stretched his free arm forward, pointing towards a spot on the road. "And there, sorry to say, is where you died."

There were a million questions swirling in Tomas' head, but he couldn't muster to say a single word. His eyes glazed up a bit, and he stared at the place of his death with his mouth agape.

    "Motorcycle accident, lost control, your head was squished by a Honda," Pacho blurted out. "Did I miss anything else?"

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    "Yeah, uh, my brother Chito was driving," Edgar added. "It happened about two weeks ago, I think? He had bruises all over his body but the son of a bitch managed to survive. I swear, he's gonna outlive everyone."

    "This is the part where I used to say that it's not your fault," Pacho remarked. "But, seeing as you didn't wear a helmet as you rode in the back illegally, I'd have to say it is."

    "We figured that, y'know," Edgar followed. "Since your brain was splattered all over the road an' all, s'why you couldn't remember our conversations here very long."

    "You mean we've had this conversation before?" Tomas queried. That's when it hit him. Tomas remembered then where he knew the boy. "Pacho Diaz?"

    "Finally, he remembers."

    "But you… You died more than 20 years ago now."

    "That's what they keep telling me."

    "I remember you being ran over by that van. Man, we weren't allowed to cross the street on our own for months!"

    "Oh? You don't say?"

The conversation went on for a while, until Tomas lost his memory of it and everything started over again. It became a cycle that went on for a number of weeks. There were little deviations, and sometimes the pair would fool around and have fun at Tomas' expense. Sometimes they got to see people they knew, sometimes they got to see people killed, but not once did they ever had the chance to see people they knew killed. It was bittersweet. On one hand, it saved them from grief, but on the other, it made the longing to communicate with them even stronger.

    "Have you seen my children?" a disheveled woman cried out. "Please, help me."

    "For the hundredth time, Anita," Pacho grunted, annoyed. "Your children have moved on to better things. You died a—"

    "Chill, man," Edgar interrupted. "Just let her have this."

Years went by, with some people being added and removed from their ranks. No matter how many times the roads were renovated and the communities changed, the three remained where they were, repeating the cycle over and over. They weren't able to meddle in the affairs of corporeal entities, and the only thing that they were able to do was observe. There were times when they thought they had a hand in influencing events, but it was all circumstantial.

With the rise of better safety policies, the number of people killed on the road decreased exponentially over the years. It used to be that buses and cars would routinely mow down people crossing near the elementary school, as if seeing the pedestrian lane as the starting line for a race track. Gone were those days.

Tomas stood near the side of the road as an automated hovercar zoomed past. He stared blankly towards the other side of the road. The pervading calm washed over him, and he found himself caught in a wave of introspection. Clouds hovered high above, blocking the sun.

    "Ah jeez," Pacho sighed, as he walked up beside Tomas. "Here we go again."

Edgar laughed as soon as he heard Pacho grumble. He wasn't always fond of when the cycle restarts, but after years of doing the same thing, he had become quite used to it.

    "Here we go?" Tomas asked. "Here we go again with what, Pacho?"

Pacho's eyes widened and Edgar's jaw slacked. The pair was surprised with the change in Tomas' response. After years of the same thing, they never expected anything different.

    "Oh huh," Edgar mumbled. "You, uh… you remember the kid?"

    "Hmm? Why wouldn't I? Oh… because of the memory thing? Yeah, I… I've been remembering more and more everyday. I guess this time it just stuck. Though, I'm not sure how long this would last. One snap and I might just lose everything again."

Pacho snapped his fingers, as if to test the theory. "How about now?"

Tomas' lips slowly curved into a smile.

    "Do you guys ever wonder what it would be like on the other side?" Tomas inquired. "I mean, as you say over and over, we've lived this same exact existence for years. Don't you ever get bored? Don't you ever think of what's beyond—"

    "Yeah well," Edgar mused aloud. "Sure, I mean, those first years were tough. I always kept asking why I was still here, why haven't I moved on. Everyone else were gone, but why was I still here? Do I have unfinished business? Was I meant for something more?"

    "Seeing everyone grow while you stayed the same," Pacho added. "It just… y'know? It just takes time to get used to it. You had the luxury of resetting your mind almost every day, so you didn't have to deal with all these things. I figure it's best to just… I don't know, vent it?"

    "We can't complain, right?" Edgar followed, wrapping his arm over Tomas' shoulder. "Plus, what is waiting for us on the other side? With everything we've done in our lives? Free flowing wine and bitches with legs opened? Fire and torture? We don't know, y'know?"

    "Speak for yourself," Pacho interrupted. "I was an innocent kid when I was plucked so suddenly. You assholes had more mileage, so I won't be surprised if you become the devil's bitches. I'm heading straight to heaven for sure."

    "Ahh don't listen to him, cous," Edgar reassured. "The point is: this is our lot in life, this is the hand we were dealt. We just have to make the best of a bad situation."

    "Bad?" Pacho asked. "Hell, this beats spending an eternity alone. You were lucky I was already here, you never got to experience years being ignored. I never thought of it as bad."

    "What are you two going on about?" Tomas turned to face them, raising his eyebrows and scratching his head. "I meant the other side of the road."

The pair scratched their heads in response. They all had a good laugh about it afterwards.

    "I really never thought of it," Pacho remarked. "Blame it on trauma and shit. My knees buckle every time I come close to the road."

    "Even after all these decades?" Tomas inquired.

    "Especially after all these decades. Weren't you listening when I talked about childhood trauma and all that? That shit is real, man."

    "I have," Edgar interjected.

    "Yeah?" Tomas asked.

    "Oh right," Pacho added, recalling the time. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I 'member that."

    "Tried to cross," Edgar recounted. "But, when I got halfway, this car swerved and hit a school bus. Never got the chance to tell those kids how sorry I was. They moved on a few years before you came along."

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    "That was you?" Tomas asked. "I think I… I think I remember that from way back."

    "Never tried it again since."

    "Why don't we try it again now?"

    "Did you… Did you even listen to what I just said?"

    "Yeah, no, I mean, there hasn't been an accident here for years now, right?"

    "And you want to cause one now?" Pacho interrupted.

    "No, man, that's not… That's not what I'm saying. What do you guys have to lose? I could lose my memory again any time now. The least you guys could do for me is to help guide me back when it comes to it."

It took some more convincing, but the three nodded in agreement. Their journey took longer than expected, as they stopped every time a vehicle approached. What was a length of a little over 10 meters felt like miles to them. The granite beneath them seemed to shift every time they took a step. They held each other's hands, fearing that they might get swept away if they let go.

    "I can't," Pacho stressed. "I don't think I can make it."

    "You can," Tomas encouraged. "And, you will."

Every breath they took was labored, as if they had the ability to breathe. It felt like there was an external force repelling them from getting to their destination. Or, as if the other side was pulling them back. They felt like they were walking on quicksand, with the road swallowing them whole. Their whole lives flashed before their eyes, and everything seemed to fade into obscurity.

Tomas regretted his decision, but he didn't want to admit it to the others. He journeyed on, thinking that he had led them to their doom the entire time. What were they going to lose? He thought back to the question he posed. They were all dead anyway, and he felt like there was no fate worse than what they found themselves in.

Before they knew it, the clouds parted and a sliver of light pierced from the sky. A bright wave of light washed over them and engulfed them. At that instant, they were pulled from the mire and they felt weightless. The warm glow seemed as if it was trying to communicate to them, and even though they opened their mouths, they couldn't hear themselves talking. They felt like their bodies were slowly being ripped apart, like they assimilating into a benevolent consciousness. Thousands of questions floated in their minds, but they felt like they knew the answer to everything.

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Suddenly, a whoosh of a speeding car drove them awake.

    "Is this it?" Tomas asked, upon finding themselves standing on the other side of the road. "Hmm… Is this all there is?"

    "Huh?" Edgar followed. "I thought there would be more."

    "Have you seen my children?" they heard Anita cry out from a distance.

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Seeing as my Halloween story from last year was dubbed "an instant classic" (Part 1) and "one of the best stories on Steemit ever" (Part 2)… by no one (hahaha! haha! ha! ah :/) I decided to give this year's entry a more lighthearted spin. I initially thought of writing Part 3, picking up a year after the events of Part 2, but I decided that more existential romp would be more fitting this time around. And yes, maybe I still have a hangover from the Traffic Koans I did a month ago.

I hope that reading this was a treat! If you could spare an upvote that would be awesome! But, if you could take the time to share your thoughts in the comments section, that would be very much appreciated :D

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Let's keep @lukestokes.mhth as a Top 20 STEEM witness, shall we? :D

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