Archive of Our Own ^beta

The first time Melinda saw the boy was on her way back from getting some coffee from the Java. At a first glance he didn’t look like anything special--he had black hair, jeans, and a red and white t-shirt, and he was sitting on a bench hunched over, drawing in a notebook--but something about him made her do a double take.

She stared across the street at him, confused at first by how normal he seemed--because on the second glance, she felt a soft wash of emotion come over her. It was empathy and amusement and determination and kindness all at once.

And it wasn’t hers, but the feelings were so similar to her own that she could have mistaken them. These were things she usually only felt when she was looking at a ghost.

“Melinda?” Her husband, Jim, came up beside her, looking in the direction she was looking too--toward the benches right across from the statue of the soldiers. “What is it, do you see something?”

“No,” she said softly, shooting him a reassuring smile, “It’s just... never mind, it’s nothing.”

“It’s never just nothing,” Jim sighed, wrapping his arm around her affectionately, “Come on, what is it, another plane crash victim? Someone who was hurt by the wreckage?”

“No... it doesn’t look like he’s from around here. He’s... just a teenager, Jim, he can’t be more than seventeen.” Melinda shook her head sympathetically, still looking in the boy’s direction--he was still drawing, biting his lip as if he was trying to keep from laughing at his own doodle. “He hasn’t noticed me yet--but I bet it won’t be long before he asks me for help.”

“Okay, well, let me know how that goes,” Jim kissed her forehead, giving her a quick squeeze before readjusting the hand holding his coffee, “I need to get back to work. See you tonight?”

“Yeah, bye honey,” the brunette turned her head and kissed her husband on the lips deeply, and then they parted and he grinned at her before walking back toward his ambulance.

Melinda stood across the street contemplatively for a while, then sighed and decided not to bother the boy, finally taking a step off the curb and crossing the park square.

The boy didn’t even look up as Melinda passed--no surprise since she was pretending not to notice any ghosts around, no matter how few there were. Ever since Romano, ever since the crash... there hadn’t been any of the regulars, but new ones had been showing up. Ghosts who didn’t yet realize Melinda could see them, or didn’t really need her help or want to move on.

See, that was the thing about Melinda--she could see ghosts. It was a gift she was born with, and she used her power to help ghosts cross over and find the Light. Usually ghosts had unfinished business, or they had an important message they wanted to get across, or just... needed some kind of closure.

Though with how peacefully that black-haired teenager was drawing and minding his own business, she couldn’t help but wonder what held that boy back.

Melinda sighed as she unlocked her shop, “Same as it Never Was Antiques”, and went inside. She went to her laptop on the main counter, facing the window, and placed her coffee down. She looked out at the ghosts in the park square--most pointedly, keeping an eye on that strange black-haired boy.

She idly began typing in searches for recently deceased teenagers, but her hand froze when she noticed the boy finally moving something other than the pencil in his hand. His muscles tensed as if he knew he were being watched, and he looked up and locked eyes with her, unblinking.

His eyes were a clear, lively, shocking blue.

She stared back apprehensively--this was usually the part where the ghosts started freaking out that she could see them, and ask for her help--but the teen simply blinked a few times and grinned at her boyishly before going back to his drawing.

“Well that’s... odd.” Melinda murmured to herself. Ghosts didn’t normally just... ignore her like that. She didn’t know what to think of the boy, but nothing came up when she hit enter.

Idly she wondered if he was attached to one of the objects in the antique shop, as her newly acquired items tended to bring along extra guests at times. If he came from another city or wasn’t recently deceased, he would be a lot harder to track down. 

The boy didn’t contact her all day--she figured he wanted to get her alone. But after dealing with a customer and looking back out the window, he was gone, and he didn’t reappear.

She didn’t see him until the next day.

~~~

Melinda hadn’t been expecting to come upstairs from the shop basement to find the black-haired boy inspecting a porcelain ballerina on one of her shelves.

She gasped in surprise, nearly dropping the box she had been carrying, startling the boy into straightening out and turning toward her.

“Oh--sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized sheepishly.

“No, no, sorry if I surprised you.” Melinda smiled kindly, “So, what can I help you with?”

“Ah, I’m just looking around. Hope you don’t mind.” The boy grinned, rubbing the back of his head almost shyly, which she found just as odd as his behavior from the day before, because ghosts had a habit of getting straight to the point and asking her for help. He acted almost as if he didn’t know he was dead, but that didn’t seem right because he didn’t flicker or show any signs of a sudden unexpected death--he was too solid for that. “I’m kind of bored and stranded, so... why not, right?” He looked back at the shelf of porcelain goods, muttering under his breath, “Nothing more interesting or creepy than old antiques.”

“I love antiques, this shop has been my dream for a long time,” Melinda chuckled softly, going to stand beside him. He blushed when he realized she heard his somewhat sarcastic comment. She picked up the ballerina, looking at it fondly. “Antiques have such history behind them, you know? They have stories, about who made them and whoever owned them and the places they’ve been...”

“Oh, I know,” the boy snorted, “but more often than not, it’s people.”

“What do you mean by that?” Melinda blinked.

“A lot of people think they only have their own stories attached to them, unlike antiques--stories about the places they’ve been and the people they’ve met that shape who they are,” the boy said distantly, idly wandering around the shop, his footsteps light and soundless as if barely touching the ground at all, “but those people don’t realize there are other people’s stories attached to them too.”

“Really...” Melinda blinked at the boy, surprised by his philosophy--she couldn’t see his face since he had turned away from her to look around, but his voice had sounded far wiser than his years.

“Yeah. Like you--do you ever tell stories about the other lady who owned this place with you?” The boy turned back toward her, stopping beside a flower arrangement on the table, and Melinda froze. His expression softened. “Sorry, didn’t mean to seem nosy or anything. A couple people out there were talking about it. Sorry for your loss.”

“Oh, uh... I don’t mind. The whole town knows, so it’s alright. Um, thanks. I’ll be fine, I’m dealing with it.” Melinda averted her gaze, those blue eyes suddenly seeming too piercing, “I guess I know what you mean though.”

“Right? Their histories are theirs and not yours, yet... when they’ve made a mark on you, you tell their stories--you tell about the pieces of them that they’ve shared with you.” The boy’s lips tugged into an empathetic smile, “It might be hard because you recently lost her, huh. But... it’ll get easier, I guess, in time. Or something like that.” The boy turned away, looking around again. “They say time heals all wounds. Even the big ugly scars that plane left on your city.”

“I take it you don’t just mean physically.” Melinda offered a wry smile when she looked up again. “What about you? What stories are attached to you, uh...”

The way her voice trailed off into a questioning intonation immediately made his eyebrows raise. “Oh, I forgot to introduce myself! Danny Fenton.” He grinned at her from his spot across the shop, bowing graciously and somewhat humorously deeply.

“I’m Melinda Gordon. Nice to meet you, Danny. Call me Melinda.” The brunette smiled softly and nodded. “So, uh, histories...?”

“I dunno, I could talk about my friends for hours, but I’ve also got plenty of stories to tell about people I haven’t even met, sort of. Stories about my grandma teaching my dad how to do needlepoint, of an ancestor on my dad’s side who was apparently a witch hunter in Salem during the Witch Trials. My mom told me about the cousins that she played with growing up, how they were so strong they could lift a whole pine tree by themselves. Those were the stories attached to her.” Danny laughed softly.

Melinda’s smile widened at Danny’s laugh, weaving around the displays to follow him. “What about scars? Do you have any scars that time will heal?”

“Yeah, plenty, but I’m already healing--so I think I’m good.” Danny grinned almost proudly, turning to run his fingers over the spines of some old leather-bound books on the shelf next to him.

Melinda’s smile faded at this. If he was proud of healing and he had such a rich history, what was holding him back from the Light? She thought back on what he had said--anything to give away any anger, regret, or sadness...

Wait, what had he said when he first started speaking?

“I’m kind of bored and stranded, so...”

Was Danny abandoned? Forgotten? What happened?

She entwined her hands in front of her, taking a deep breath. “Um, Danny, earlier you said something about being stranded...”

Danny opened his mouth to speak, but then the ring of the bell above the door sounded and he jumped in surprise. Melinda looked over quickly, blinking. “Oh--Jim,” she breathed in relief, going over to hug him and kiss him.

“Sorry, did I surprise you?” The dark-haired man asked his wife, stroking her cheek gently and kissing her again lovingly. “Just coming to check up on you.”

“No, it’s fine, I was just talking to, um, Danny.” Melinda looked over to the raven-haired boy, whose eyes sparkled brightly with mischief now as he waved and gave a toothy grin.

Jim turned to follow Melinda’s gaze, blinking a few times. He grinned sheepishly. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had a guest.”

“Nah, don’t mind me, I was just browsing,” Danny chuckled, glancing out the window. He seemed to notice something, because he said, “Oh, I should probably be leaving anyhow. Well it was nice to meet you Melinda and uh--Jim, right? Anyway, see ya!”

Melinda’s eyes widened as Jim held the door open for the boy, nodding at him as he passed. Melinda waved a bit, murmuring, “Yeah, bye,” before Danny ran out the door and across the street, disappearing from her view behind the memorial.

“Huh, he seems like he was in an awful rush to get somewhere,” Jim shrugged, closing the door, “I don’t blame him for the rudeness. Seems like a nice kid otherwise.”

“Wait, Jim--did you just see Danny?” The medium asked breathlessly, turning her eyes back to her husband, and when he looked back at her, he stilled.

“What? Yeah, of course.” Jim’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“...Danny isn’t a ghost...?” Melinda murmured to herself, confused, looking out the window to where she last saw Danny. “But I could have sworn...”

“Mel?” Jim turned her face back toward him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I... I don’t know,” Melinda frowned, “I thought Danny was a ghost, because I get that feeling when I look at him, but only if I look long and hard enough.” Her eyes darted to the window again.

Jim frowned and shook his head. “What? How is that possible?”

“I think... I don’t know. Maybe Danny has a ghost attached to him.”

~~~

Melinda was on her way to open the shop that morning, her usual coffee in hand--sometimes it still felt weird only carrying one rather than trying to juggle two. She was saying hello to her new usual ghosts--some of them recently deceased and following their loved ones around. Others were the ghosts that attached themselves to objects she acquired at the shop, or were recently “awakened” by some event or another. Not too many were historically significant anymore, but she kind of missed the cowboy who rode the white horse and the boy who played with his stick and hoop.

She saw Danny sitting at a bench near the soldier monument, and without hesitation walked up to the bench and sat beside him.

He didn’t notice her, his tongue sticking out of his mouth and his teeth biting down gently as he focused on his drawing.

“What are you drawing?”

“Just whoever seems interesting, I guess,” Danny grunted in response, automatically waving her away. She chuckled and sipped her coffee, looking forward to see who he might be drawing. There were a few kids playing around, a few people in business suits walking around talking on phones, and mothers sitting on nearby benches to keep an eye on their kids.

And of course the occasional ghost. The ghost of a lady in clothes that looked like they were from the 1920′s was looking back at her curiously. She quickly looked away, hoping the lady wouldn’t come up and talk to her--thankfully, she kept her distance, but she didn’t take her eyes off the medium.

“So where did you run off to yesterday?” She asked Danny, both curious and to keep the ghosts from bothering her--most ghosts had the sense to leave her alone when she was talking to living people at least.

“My sister came to pick me up. She’s checking out a few schools nearby and in the city while my parents are doing work, and I didn’t want to join the tours.” Danny shrugged, “She’s only a freshman in college and she’s already thinking of places to take her doctorate.”

Melinda giggled. “Doctorate? She must be ambitious.”

“The most ambitious,” Danny laughed in agreement. “She keeps insisting I look at colleges too, since I’m a junior and should be applying soon, but I’m good with staying local.”

“Local to where?” Melinda leaned over to catch a glimpse of what he was drawing--she saw some sketches of the kids playing across the way. He wasn’t a bad artist, even if he was only doodling.

“Amity Park, Illinois.” Danny finally looked up at her, grinning with that amused mischief she had seen the day before when Jim walked in. “Know it?”

“Can’t say I’ve heard of it,” Melinda shook her head, “What are you planning to study there? Art?” She motioned to his notebook.

“Well I’m hoping to get into astronomy, but art isn’t a bad backup plan,” Danny laughed again, “It’s just a hobby, I mostly doodle. Want to see?” He offered his notebook to her.

Melinda blinked, nodding. “Sure, if it’s okay,” she lifted her hand and let it hover over the object, and when he nodded again, she took it from him gingerly. She put her coffee down to free her hand, turning the page to look at some of the previous drawings.

“You’re really good,” she said slowly, her eyes trailing over figures of mothers holding their babies, and a hatted man on his cell phone with a comically angry expression.

“Thanks? I don’t think I’m that good. But I do try to make stuff accurate, I guess. I just draw what I see.” Danny shrugged, sitting back and looking out across the square.

Melinda nodded, turning the page again, and her breath hitched. She stopped. “This girl...” She said slowly, running her finger down the page and stopping it next to a young ballerina.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I saw her in the square like two days ago. Cute kid.” Danny grinned up at her, his eyes sparkling enigmatically.

Melinda looked up at him, her eyes wide and bewildered. She knew the ballerina on the page--it was the ghost of the girl who owned the porcelain ballerina figurine he had been looking at in her shop the day before.

Danny simply grinned obliviously, then turned to look forward again. The lady from the 1920s got up, taking a few curious steps closer. Melinda looked between them, but Danny didn’t seem to be paying her any attention, looking back at the kids he had been drawing just before he offered her his notebook--they were playing with rocket ships and toy laser guns.

Melinda looked back down at the notebook, turning the pages again. Her eyes widened as, once again, she saw sketches of ghosts she recognized.

“This seems like a funny dress,” she said after a while, pointing to a drawing of a lady in a fancy Victorian gown. Her hair was up in a beautiful bun, not a single strand out of place, and she had a sharp look in her eyes, her full lips pursed almost sternly. “It looks like a very historically accurate portrait. Where did you see someone like this?”

“In the city--my sister dragged me to a bookstore the first day we were here,” Danny rolled his eyes, looking back at her. “She’s a total geek, she reads so much. But I saw that lady in the bookstore,” he leaned over and pointed at the other figure on the page, a man in a top-hat and tuxedo, “And that guy was in the city too, trying to wave down a taxi or a carriage or something.”

Melinda glanced back at him, her eyes as big and nonplussed as before. “Danny... don’t you think they were kind of odd?” She asked slowly, looking at him long and hard. There was no way, he couldn’t be...

“Oh yeah, totally,” Danny nodded, “but it was the city, so I guess it wasn’t too weird to see people like them.”

Melinda looked back down at the book, then handed it back to him. He chuckled and turned to a new page, going back to drawing.

Melinda sat there for a while, staring ahead, trying to figure out what to say. She opened her mouth a few times, trying to form words, but was unable to find anything that would naturally transition into what she wanted to ask.

She had seen the Victorian woman and the man in the tuxedo before, when she went to the city. They were ghosts. And Danny had drawn them to the most minute detail.

He could see ghosts, she was sure of it. And the thought sent her heart racing, because she now realized she was sitting next to a boy who had the same gift she had. She had never met anyone like that before, and she wondered if they shared any of the same experiences.

In front of them, the ghost lady stopped and stared at them quizzically, looking between Danny and Melinda as if she were unsure who to talk to. Melinda glanced at her, then back at Danny--he was drawing that woman. That pretty much confirmed that he could see the ghosts in the square right now, though like her, he was pretending he couldn’t see them to appear somewhat normal.

Melinda finally gave up on trying to find the right words, eager to know if this boy used his gift like her too. “Say, Danny, this may seem like a weird question, but... do you believe in ghosts?” She asked straightforwardly.

She didn’t expect his reaction to be a snort and a somewhat sarcastic laugh. She expected surprise or confusion, maybe, but he didn’t even look up from his drawing as he answered. “I think I’d be a laughing stock if I didn’t at this point,” he said dryly, and Melinda stared at him in confusion. “I live in Amity Park--since you’ve never heard of it, I guess you wouldn’t have known, but Amity is basically Ghost Capital, USA.”

“Ghost Capital...?” Melinda asked, her voice quiet and bewildered.

“Yeah. Almost everyone in town believes in ghosts now,” Danny grinned up at her, “but no one believed them more than my parents.”

“Your parents believe in ghosts?” Melinda wondered if one or both of them also had Danny’s gift--it was genetic, after all, and Melinda knew since her mother and her grandmother both had the gift. “Oh, you mentioned them earlier... where are they now?”

“Checking out the plane crash site--they heard about the crash and thought it was a great stop on our family road trip. They think there are a ton of ghosts over there,” Danny shrugged, “but they haven’t found anything so far.”

Well, that was no surprise. Melinda had helped most of the ghosts find the Light, and the rest had disappeared with Romano.

“They won’t find anything anyway--their ghost hunting equipment isn’t really equipped to deal with spirits.” The teen said nonchalantly, his eyes going back to his notebook.

Melinda took a moment to process this, confusion marring her features. “Ghost hunting...?”

“Yeah, they’re ghost hunters. A bit crazy but well-meaning, I swear.” Danny shook his head with a slight grimace, “They’re geniuses, they build all sorts of stuff meant to deal with ghosts--but they’re a little narrow-minded so they haven’t really considered the possibility of spirits.”

Melinda stared at him blankly. “You talk as if there’s a difference between spirits and ghosts.” She said slowly, staring hard at him.

“There is--maybe not here, but in my town there is. Ghosts are usually the things normal people can see--it’s where most ghost stories come from. My parents and almost everyone in Amity Park have seen one at least once.” Danny shrugged, “Spirits, however... they’re more like that lady in front of us. Not just anyone can see her.”

Melinda blinked, looking over at the lady again--she was closer now, leaning over to see Danny’s drawing. A soft smile was on her face.

“You draw beautifully,” she commented. “Thank you for drawing me.”

“Thanks, and you’re welcome. Want to keep it?” Danny asked--and Melinda startled, because he so blatantly spoke to the woman without the concern of sounding insane. Had Melinda not been able to see the ghost woman too, Danny would have certainly looked like he had lost a marble or two.

“No, no, not at all. Please keep it,” the ghost grinned, “at least someone will have proof I existed, then.”

“Were you invisible in life? Gosh, I know that feeling,” Danny chuckled, then looked back at Melinda. “...You don’t have to keep pretending you can’t see her. I know you believe in ghosts--you wouldn’t have asked otherwise. Also, the spirits have been talking about you all week. They call you the Ghost Whisperer, you know.”

The ghost woman grinned and waved at Melinda too. “Good day, miss.” She looked at Danny, nodding at him before she said, “I suppose you’re busy talking, so I’ll come back later.”

“Sure.” Danny nodded, and the woman vanished. Danny didn’t even flinch.

“Uh, good day,” Melinda gaped, looking back at Danny. “Sorry--I just... I’ve never met another person who could see and hear them like I could.”

Danny shrugged. “Well I didn’t know you existed, so I guess we’re even.” He grinned cheekily.

“Wait, so--have you always been able to see ghosts--sorry, spirits?” Melinda asked curiously.

“You know, I almost want to say no, but I have no idea to be honest. Most spirits look like normal people, so I don’t think I would have noticed if the people I saw on the street every day were dead or not,” Danny tapped his chin with his pencil thoughtfully, “I didn’t really start noticing they were spirits until I was fourteen I guess.”

“What helped you start to recognize them?” Melinda tilted her head.

“I started getting this weird feeling when I looked at them,” Danny shrugged, “most of the time it’s like a shiver. Sometimes it’s like... I’m feeling emotions that aren’t my own.”

“That’s exactly what I feel,” Melinda nodded, “it’s how I learned to tell them apart, when I was a teenager.” She had started to really notice the feeling around the same age Danny had, so she didn’t find his admission odd. But... “You sound like you didn’t have anyone to guide you when you were younger--I mean, with this gift. Are you the only one in your family who can see spirits?”

“Probably, yeah. My sister never said anything when we passed by them, and my parents don’t even consider them real like they consider ghosts. It’s weird.” Danny shrugged again, “But my sister knows--and so do my two best friends. They can’t see them but they help me when I tell them about some spirit I see. I try to help them when I can, to find peace or to find a place to stay. Kind of like what you do.”

Melinda smiled. So Danny was like her. “That’s sweet.”

“Yeah, now if only ghosts would stop bothering me, I’d have a lot more time to help spirits get where they want to be.” Danny laughed, “I like helping spirits a lot more than dealing with ghosts.”

The brunette blinked slowly, trying to process that. Knowing that he differentiated between ghosts and spirits was one thing, but Danny seemed to be implying they acted differently. “How do you deal with ghosts?”

“I usually shoot them. They’re not exactly the friendly, cooperative type.” Danny said dryly.

Melinda startled. “Shoot them?” She repeated incredulously.

“My parents are ghost hunters remember? They have all sorts of equipment meant to hurt or contain ghosts. It usually gets them angrier,” Danny rolled his eyes.

She swallowed thickly. “So ghosts are... usually the violent kinds.”

“Yep, the kind that throw things around and cause panic and general destruction. Ever come across one?” Danny looked at her curiously.

“Maybe a few,” she frowned, remembering some of the less peaceful ghosts she had to deal with. “Do you ever try to help those spirits move on?”

“They’re usually the ones who don’t want to,” Danny shrugged.

That reminded Melinda of Romano. She shook her head, sighing as she picked up her coffee. “Well, this was an interesting chat, but I’ve got to go open up. Want to come in?” She pointed to the antique shop across the street.

“Sure, I’ve got time to kill till lunch,” Danny shrugged, getting up to follow her. He tucked his notebook into his purple backpack, stretching a bit and cracking his neck.

Melinda chuckled, leading the way to her shop. She offered him a seat at the couch and asked if he wanted a drink of water.

“Nah, I’m good.” Danny grinned, plopping down and looking around as curiously as he had done the day before. “So, you’ve been helping spirits your whole life?”

“Yeah.” Melinda nodded, going about her daily motions and opening the register, grabbing some things from under the desk to set them up to display. “Though lately it seems like I’ve gotten too busy to help all of them.”

“Can’t get them all,” Danny shrugged, “just don’t forget the ones you made promises to.”

Melinda blinked, looking over at him. “...What do you mean by that?”

“I hear a lot of whispers--they say that sometimes you promise to help them, but then you forget and they get a bit angry.” Danny glanced over at her, “I wish I could help lighten your load, but a few of them... I don’t really want to see them become ghosts.”

“Become ghosts?”

“Yeah. The next stage after spirit--if they get obsessive or angry enough, they become ghosts,” Danny nodded solemnly, “though it’s usually only if they make it to the next plane. My parents called it the Ghost Zone--kind of a dumb name, right? But it describes the place perfectly. A world full of only ghosts.”

Melinda frowned, moving around the counter to stand in front of the black-haired teenager. He didn’t look up at her, picking up an antique hand mirror and inspecting it. “What is this Ghost Zone...? Where is it?”

“I don’t really know where it is, but my parents theorize it’s parallel to this world, like a different dimension. You can’t see ghosts while they’re there, but then they find these doorways into our world--portals that form naturally and randomly. That’s how the ghosts end up in our world, and that’s how ghost stories form.” Danny explained, “Amity Park is sort of a hot spot for those portals for some reason. So believe me when I say there are a lot of ghosts where I come from.”

“Which makes the ghost hunters necessary,” Melinda nodded. “Are your parents the only ones? Are you one too, since you mentioned shooting them before?”

“No, there’s a few others.” Danny answered vaguely, “I guess you could say my friends and I are ghost hunters too.”

Melinda paused, looking hard at him as he put down the mirror and got up, beginning to wander around her store. “...Earlier you said you could help lighten my load... but that you don’t want to see some spirits become ghosts. How could they become ghosts if you’re trying to help them go to the Light?”

The blue-eyed teen blinked and looked over at her. “...I have a habit of making people mad,” he grinned, “but that aside... I’m pretty good at finding ways to get into the Ghost Zone. Spirits who don’t want to go into the Light can go there and become ghosts--they don’t have to leave there, but it’s better than staying here.” He shrugged, “But some spirits... all they want is revenge and chaos, and I don’t know about you but I try to avoid helping those spirits get what they want. Those spirits shouldn’t go to the Ghost Zone, because then they’ll just get more powerful, and then they can come back and really hurt someone.”

Melinda stared, eyes wide and worried. “What do you mean, they’ll get more powerful?”

“Remember how I said ghosts are the ones normal people can see?” Danny lifted an eyebrow, “If normal spirits can push stuff around with what little energy they have, what do you think ghosts can do?”

The brunette woman paled, nodding in understanding. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“Yeah, it’s not pretty.” Danny nodded, turning away to look at her bookshelf.

“And you deal with them? All the time?” Melinda frowned, “But you’re just...”

“A kid? I know. I’m seventeen, almost eighteen,” Danny chuckled, “but I’ve been dealing with ghosts for years. I know it’s dangerous. But hey, if I don’t deal with them... who else will? To be quite honest, my parents sort of suck at their job.”

Danny pulled a book from the shelf--an old astronomy textbook. He went back to the couch and sat down, beginning to flip through it. “Don’t worry about me, Melinda. I know what I’m doing.” He grinned at her, then turned his attention to the book. “So I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing, and you keep doing what you do. Though I might take a few of those spirits over in the square with me when I leave--I’ll get them to a portal and they can live the rest of their days in the world they want to live in.”

Melinda stared at him. “What about the Light?”

“Like I said, Melinda--some spirits don’t want to go into the Light. Maybe it’s because they don’t believe there’s anything there for them, or maybe it’s because they know they can’t get there anymore because they can’t settle their business or whatever.” Danny didn’t look up from the book as he explained, “Sometimes the best thing for them, then, is to let them build their own fantasy of what they wanted from the Light, and let them live in it. That’s what they’ll find in the Ghost Zone. It may not be peace... but it’s close enough.”

“I... don’t understand.”

“Okay, here’s an example. The ballerina girl attached to that statue over there,” he motioned absently across the room to the shelf of porcelain items, “when I talked to her the other day, she said she wanted to go to a fantasy land with fairies and unicorns and talking nutcrackers, like the Sugar Plum Princess. When I asked her if she wouldn’t rather be with her parents in the Light, she said she had her adventure with her family already. But now she wants something else, something that doesn’t exist in this world... something she didn’t see in the Light right across the way. So she’d rather not go.”

“So if she goes to the Ghost Zone... she’ll be able to make up that world herself, and live in it?” Melinda asked slowly.

“Yeah. My parents theorize all sorts of things about the Ghost Zone, about how it’s full of malevolent ghosts, but that’s because they only see malevolent ghosts come back out of it. There are several ghosts who will go there to find peace, and they’re content to just live in their fantasies and be left alone.” Danny said softly.

“How do you know?”

“I talked to a few ghosts, calmed them down, convinced them to go back. They tell me all sorts of things about the Ghost Zone,” Danny glanced up at her with a cheeky grin, “One of them was a medieval princess from the dark ages--or, maybe it was just her fantasy to be one, I have no idea, but she seems authentic enough. She comes back to visit me sometimes.”

“You... seem pretty knowledgeable about this stuff.” Melinda came closer, sitting down on the couch next to him. “You’re friends with ghosts and spirits, like I am, but I don’t know nearly as much as you do.”

“Yeah, well, ghosts are a little more willing to have a long, pleasant conversation than spirits are. Spirits just want to finish their business, that’s why they come to you for help.” Danny shrugged, closing the book and putting it aside, shifting to give her room to sit on more than just the edge of the couch, “What did you want to know about?”

“I don’t know--why there are so many spirits in Grandview in general? There weren’t this many in the city.” Melinda frowned.

Danny blinked at her. “You don’t know? The ghosts whisper about it so much, I thought you would have heard something...”

“The ghosts. Not the spirits,” Melinda noticed with a frown, “Danny, are there ghosts in Grandview?”

“Yeah, but they’re all in hiding--they’re underground.” Danny shook his head, “And, well, I guess ghost isn’t exactly the right way to describe them, but they’re not spirits either, per se. I just can’t call them spirits--they’re too dark.” He shook his head and shivered a bit, “I don’t really want to go talk to them again.”

Melinda stared at him. “Dark...” She knew that term. It had to do with Romano. “You met some of those... dark spirits?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s a better name for them. I sort of met them--I’m trying to avoid them as much as possible, but of course they’re probably watching me. And you.” Danny glanced away from her, “I feel a bit bad for you, because I get to leave here at the end of the week and not have to deal with them anymore. You live here.”

“Danny, do you know who told the spirits about me?” Danny glanced at her in confusion, “I try not to let the ghosts know I can see them if I can help it--talking to the air in public isn’t exactly the best for my reputation. But when I first moved here, one of them mentioned that they were told about me, and came to my house to get my help. A few others said the same thing, but none of them will tell me about who they heard about me from.”

“Someone out there doesn’t like you,” Danny looked away from her, “when the darker spirits talk, they talk about how you help souls move on and go into the Light--they don’t like that. Some of the spirits hear that, and they come to you instead of listening to the bitter guys, I guess.”

Melinda opened her mouth to reply, but then they both jumped when a cell phone went off. Danny quickly dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone--he checked the message on it, then flipped it shut. “I’ve got to go. Family wants to spend some time together and all,” he grinned. “Thanks for the company.”

“Oh, uh, no problem,” Melinda nodded, “See you later?”

“Yeah, probably. I like hanging out at the square better than tagging along with my parents or sister,” Danny chuckled, moving toward the door. “See ya.”

“Bye, Danny.”

~~~

“You’re so giddy,” Jim laughed as he kissed his wife, standing in front of her store the next morning with their coffees in hand, “Looking forward to seeing that Danny kid again?”

“I can’t help it, I’ve never met anyone else with my gift before, and he’s such a sweet kid,” Melinda grinned. “And, well, even if it’s only for a little while, it could be nice to have someone else to bounce ideas off of when I’m trying to help a ghost.”

“Okay, okay, have fun with that,” Jim kissed her again, “see you at lunch, don’t get into too much trouble.”

“I won’t,” Melinda squeezed his hand, then let go of it, the two of them going their separate ways. “See you later!”

Melinda turned to unlock her store, going about her morning routine. She startled slightly when she came out of her back room and saw the ghost lady from the day before sitting on the couch.

“Hello there,” Melinda greeted when she calmed down a bit, “What are you doing here? Did you need help?”

“I’m waiting for that boy,” the lady said simply, leaning back comfortably, “No offense, but I don’t really need your help.”

The brunette medium balked, startled. “You don’t?”

“I see the Light. I don’t want to go into it,” the woman drawled, “but I’d rather not stick around here--there’s a creepy man around, he gives me chills.”

Melinda winced. “Romano...” she muttered under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Melinda shook her head, going back to setting out some polished silverware, “Sorry. You can wait here, I don’t mind.”

“Hmm,” the woman vanished, reappearing in front of the counter, watching Melinda work. “That boy’s a fascinating one. A few spirits around here, they’re starting to call him the Gateway.”

“The Gateway?” Melinda blinked, pausing her work to look over.

“Yes,” the woman grinned, “the gateway into the Ghost Zone. He’s our ticket to peace--away from everyone else.”

“That seems a little lonely, doesn’t it?” Melinda’s eyebrows furrowed, “If you go into the Light, you can be with family and friends.”

“I don’t want to be,” the woman shook her head, “I’ve lived alone for so long... I’m used to it. I think it would be weird to suddenly have family again--I liked my solitude. I grew up not being noticed--invisible, as the boy said yesterday. Eventually it became my nature.”

“So in the Ghost Zone... you just want a place all to yourself, where you won’t be bothered?” Melinda said slowly. From how Danny described the Ghost Zone the previous day, it seemed like every ghost could have their own, individual fantasy worlds. That was how the Ghost Zone was different from the Light--the light was warm, peaceful and comforting. The Ghost Zone... she didn’t know much about it, but while it gave peace, it was a cold kind of peace with a delusional sense of comfort.

“Yeah--I miss my old apartment. Shame it got renovated recently.”

But maybe some ghosts wanted it like that. Peace was peace, after all.

“Is that what woke you up?” Melinda asked curiously, going back to placing her products on display.

The ghost woman nodded. “After that plane crash--the building got damaged, so they had to rebuild and renovate it,” she explained, “I don’t really mind, it’s better now and whoever gets the place will sure have a nice view. But it’s not mine, so hopefully the Ghost Zone can give it back to me.”

Melinda hummed, glancing out the window. She saw a big silver RV with an odd logo on the side roll up and park on the curb. Danny got out of it, waving at whoever was driving, and then the RV reversed, nearly crashed into the car behind it, and got back onto the road, driving off. Danny grimaced and sighed at that, then looked around, debating whether to go sit and draw at the benches or--if his glance to her shop was any indication--go hang out with his new friend.

The ghost woman grinned and vanished from Melinda’s shop, reappearing next to Danny. He startled, then smiled up at her, looked around to make sure no one would see him talking to the air, and greeted her. He caught Melinda’s eye and waved at her, and she waved back. Then he motioned to the ghost lady and walked off with her in tow--he didn’t come toward her shop, though.

Melinda watched in confusion as he disappeared behind the corner, wondering where they were off to.

She sighed and went back to work. She didn’t see Danny again until about an hour later.

“Hey. Where’s our ghost friend gone off to?” Melinda grinned when he came into her store.

“Found her a portal to the Ghost Zone. She’s probably settling in now,” Danny replied nonchalantly, plopping down on her couch.

Melinda blinked. “You found her a... portal...?”

“Like I said yesterday, I’m good at finding them,” he grinned, mischief dancing in his eye like he was privy to a secret she wouldn’t get to know.

Melinda stared hard at him, squinting ever so slightly. She still got a wave of emotions whenever she looked at him, and it was the same kindness and amusement she had seen the first time, so he didn’t seem to be hiding anything inherently bad. “Did you try to get her into the Light first?”

“Of course I did. I always try to make sure they don’t want to go in before I offer them a way out.” Danny huffed, crossing his arms, staring back at her with piercing blue eyes. “What’s with the squinting?”

“Oh, sorry,” Melinda shook her head, turning away to dust off one of the shelves, “it’s just... Danny, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen it, but... did you know you had a ghost attached to you?”

Danny made a startled sound, and she looked back at him. His eyes were wide and surprised, and for some reason she felt apprehension coming off him.

“...So you did know.”

Danny swallowed, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “Sorry, it’s not that I don’t have one attached to me, but... you can see it?”

“No,” Melinda shook her head, “I can just... sense something. When I look at you, I feel like I’m looking at a ghost--spirit, but you’re obviously not dead.”

“Yeah, obviously,” Danny chortled somewhat nervously.

“Why can’t I see the spirit attached to you?” Melinda frowned, “I can usually find them, but this one...”

“It’s not... really a spirit...” Danny looked down at his feet, “It’s hard to explain.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s mine.”

Melinda balked, confused. “Yours? But you’re not--we just established that you’re alive.”

“I know I am. But I died, once.” Danny looked back up at her, his eyes hard and icy, “I think that’s what you’re sensing.”

“You died before?” Melinda put down her duster and came to stand next to him, “But...”

“You’ve never seen someone die for a few seconds and come back to life?” Danny tilted his head, “You know, like at hospitals. People who need resuscitation, or something like that. Those are good examples.”

“Oh, I’ve seen a few of those, I just never thought...” Melinda shook her head, confused, “What happened?”

“Accident in my parents’ lab. Don’t worry about it, I made it out of it alright,” Danny grinned, laughing nervously. It didn’t hide the apprehension she could still sense coming off of him--she had the feeling that he didn’t like talking about it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, but...” Melinda took a step back, biting her lip, “What’s it like? To die and come back? Did you ever see the Light?”

“Yeah, I guess I did. Don’t really remember, there was a lot of light around me when I died.” Danny shrugged, “Coming back was like... grabbing a fire after being out in a blizzard, I guess. It was a little painful but I was grateful to be alive, you know? As for the actual dying part... let’s just say it was quick and painful. Don’t ask.”

Melinda nodded, sitting down next to him and putting her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. “Sorry,” she smiled apologetically, “you know, I think I almost died once. I don’t remember it well, but I hit my head hard and I thought I saw my grandmother in the Light.”

Danny hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, I can tell. Your soul feels like it’s touched the Light.” He murmured, and Melinda’s eyebrows rose in surprise, her hand falling away from him.

“You can feel my soul?”

“You can feel mine,” he retorted, grinning. “You said so. You feel like you’re looking at a ghost, right?”

“Oh, uh... right. Sorry. I thought it was just me, I didn’t realize you saw me the same way.” She smiled bashfully, “I guess now I know I can find out if people are like me.” She paused her smile fading as a thought suddenly struck her. “Danny, since you are like me... I have to know. Why did you come to Grandview? I mean, besides the road trip you mentioned earlier.”

Danny was quiet, his own smile dropping as he looked at her with the same long, hard look she gave him. He didn’t answer for a long time, and Melinda stared back with an equally intense gaze.

“Why are you coming here, Danny?” Melinda asked seriously, “Why not spend time with your family? Why sit alone in the park square instead? Why talk to me--why didn’t you talk to me at first, when you saw me?”

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?” The teen replied tersely, the apprehension in his aura growing. Melinda suddenly got the feeling that he knew something he didn’t want to--or perhaps couldn’t--tell her.

“Why did you come into my store?”

“...The spirits talk a lot about you,” Danny whispered, “I just wanted to see if they were right.”

Melinda froze, her breath feeling like it was coming up short. “What are they saying?”

Danny shook his head. “Remember how I said they were watching me?” He glanced out the window warily, “I can’t say, not while they’re watching. They don’t want you to know.”

Melinda’s eyebrows furrowed, and she shook her head. “Did they threaten you?”

“If they did, I would’ve been able to handle it. I would have preferred that,” Danny said lowly, “No. They threatened you.”

“They can’t touch me.” Melinda frowned.

“No, but they’re getting stronger. I know you’ve been sensing it--this... shift, in the spirit world.” Danny shook his head solemnly, “And like I said... I leave soon. I can’t protect you if something happens and I’m in Illinois.”

“Protect me--? Why do you need to...”

Danny smiled sadly, and Melinda’s eyes widened in bewilderment at the amount of emotion she saw behind those clear blue eyes. “I talked to you because I wanted to help. But I can’t do much without the experience or context you have.” He shook his head, looking away and bracing his hands on his knees.

“Did you need my help? To... learn more about your gift? To get better at helping spirits cross over?” Melinda asked in confusion, “I know that would help me, but that doesn’t line up with what you said about protecting me. You don’t even know me, I’m a stranger.”

“Yeah, but you’re... I don’t know, you’re so good. I don’t know you, you’re right, but I know you have a really good heart, I can see it.” Danny’s shoulders slumped slightly, and when he spoke next his voice was stoic. “You asked why I came to Grandview--why I came here. Can I ask you the same thing? You said you moved here.”

“I... I don’t know. I felt drawn to it.” The brunette medium frowned, “Is there something about Grandview? Something that draws people like us?”

“I think so,” Danny nodded, “I can’t say what exactly, but it’s not just anyone like us. I’m sure there are other people who can see spirits too, now that I’ve met you, and I’m pretty sure it’s not the gift that connects you to this place. It’s what you do with the gift.”

“Help people, make a difference?” Melinda tilted her head, studying Danny’s face. The blue eyes were distant, and his lips were tightened in a thin line. She suddenly realized what he meant--what they had in common. “...You said you wanted to help.”

“Yeah, and that’s why I came here the first day. I think I was drawn to you.” He looked up at her, “My parents are checking out that crash site, but I can’t be there because there’s something dark there. I don’t like it. But you... you have a lot of love. You have a lot of light--like a beacon. And that keeps the darkness away. So I feel like I want--or need--protect you.” His eyes searched hers, as if trying to answer a question of his own that he couldn’t voice out loud. “Grandview... needs a light like that. I can’t say for sure if that’s what drew you, but that’s what I felt when I first came here, and I wanted to help. I wish I could stay and help you make the light twice as big--but my town needs me to be their light.”

“Is there something similar in your town? In Amity Park?” Melinda asked, frowning deeply.

“No, we’ve got our own brand of trouble.” Danny shook his head, glancing out the window again, “Never mind that. You asked why I came here--I guess you just wanted to know if something was up, huh. But I think you already know the answer to that.”

Melinda sighed, standing up and turning away, looking out the glass doors toward the park square. “I know. I just hoped I wasn’t right. But there really is something going on....”

“And you’re the one.”

Melinda turned back to Danny, a shocked look on her face. “What?”

Danny hadn’t moved, still looking out the window. “You’re going to be the one to stop it. I can’t say much more than that.” He shook his head, forcing a smile as he looked up at her. “Can I give you something?”

The brunette woman blinked, a bit confused by the somewhat sudden change of subject. “Sure.”

Danny reached into his backpack, pulling out his notebook. He stood up and handed it to her. “Keep it, they’re just doodles.”

“Oh, Danny, I couldn’t...” Melinda looked down at the notebook in surprise, fumbling a little as Danny pushed it gently into her hands.

“I insist. A few ghosts I met this week--I found them portals to the Ghost Zone. And some of them--they appreciate being remembered or noticed, and I saw you saying hello to quite a few of them. I think they’d want you to have something to remember them by.” His smile grew enigmatic, moving away to zip up his backpack again, “Oh, and my number is in there. In case of... anything.”

Melinda stood in confusion, watching as the aura around Danny relaxed and the apprehension left, as if knowing she could reach him comforted him somehow. She smiled a little and nodded. “Thank you, I’ll be sure to keep you in mind if I ever run into any of your kind of ghost.”

Danny nodded, his smile becoming more natural, and Melinda relaxed too, deciding not to question why he was doing this. Something about Danny gave off an aura of safety, and really it felt nice after everything that had happened the past few weeks. Their talks were a relaxing reprieve, and they were reprieves she didn’t realize she needed.

Danny looked out the window, and Melinda followed suit. The silver RV pulled up across the street again, and Danny reached for his phone before it even rang.

“Hi, Jazz--yeah, I’m in the antique shop. I’ll be out in a few,” he said shortly into the receiver, hanging up. “Well, looks like that’s my cue.”

Melinda shook her head fondly. “Heh. See you tomorrow?” She asked hopefully.

“Actually, we’re leaving tomorrow, so I don’t think so,” Danny said apologetically. “Good luck with all the spirits, though.”

Melinda sighed in disappointment and shook her head, going over to her counter and grabbing a card. “You too. Here, the same offer goes for you--if you ever need help, or just want to talk...” She handed him the card, startling a little at how cold his hand was. That was odd, since it was the middle of summer.

“Yeah, I’ll give you a call,” Danny grinned, shaking her hand briefly, then pulling his hand away and looking down at the card. “Thanks for this week.”

“No problem.” Melinda looked down at her own hand in wonder before she looked back up at him. “Have a safe trip to wherever your next stop is.”

Danny nodded, turning to head out the door as Melinda turned to go back to work. Just before he opened it, he turned back to Melinda and gave her an enigmatic look, frowning. “By the way,” he said quietly, recapturing her attention, “be careful out there?”

“I will.” She nodded, a little touched by his worry. “You take care too, Danny. Those ghosts you deal with sound like nasty business.”

Her big brown eyes met his unreadable blue ones, and he smiled, saying nothing to that. He turned back to the door, his expression distant, and he didn’t move for a few seconds. Melinda took a step closer, concerned, but then he spoke.

“Hey... this may seem like a cheesy line out of a video game, but know this, Melinda.” He shook his head, opening the door and stepping out. “The stronger the light gets, the darker the shadows become. So watch yourself, and watch the shadows.”

And then he stepped away and the door shut behind him, and Melinda could only stare as he crossed the street and disappeared behind the RV. She stood there for a long time even as it drove away.

Danny’s cryptic warning left a chill in her heart, and it only left her with more questions. Danny’s message was as mysterious as the answers the ghosts gave her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Danny couldn’t explain because he was just like them.

Something about her first assumption about him seemed right, and she couldn’t help but feel like Danny was more dead than alive.