Ghosts

I decided to go spend my summer vacation working on the Rez in North Dakota. I left my lover behind in Michigan, this feels like it’s been a hard summer so far and it‘s only going to get worse. I’m in my 11th week of being here, no phone calls, no emails, only a handful of letters from Patrick. Those letters have been the only thing other than my engagement ring that have kept me sane. It’s been a really hot day, my clothes stick to me, dust covers my skin, I brush off the worst of it before I get in the Jeep. I smile as I look on the dash, there is a picture of Pck ack and I on his bike. Patrick put it there before he gave me the Jeep for the summer. I miss him so very much. I’m supposed to be picking him up at the airport tomorrow so he can drive home with me next week when my time here is done.
I drive off towards the loft I am renting for the summer. One of the families here on the reservation turned the loft of their barn into an apartment for me, as long as I help out on the farm. I pull up outside the barn, tossing my sunglasses onto the dash as I step out of the Jeep. I walk through the barn, stopping to check over the horses, before I head up the stairs to my apartment.
I toe my boots off at the landing, dropping my Green Bay ball cap on top of my boots as I pull my hair free from the ponytail. I shake my hair out, sighing as I feel it flow over my shoulders. I slowly strip out of my clothes, pulling my was white, now dusty brown, tee shirt overoveroverly sensitive heavy breasts, unbuttoning, unzipping my tight blue Rockies, so they hang on my hips. I head over to my dining room table, seeing a stack of mail, I start picking through it. I see the return address on one envelope, tossing all others aside. I cross the room to my bed, gently tossing the letter onto it as I head for a shower.
The hot water massages my aching body, as muscles long ago tightened into rock fall loose, my knees almost buckle. Quickly, I finish up washing, turn the shower off and start drying off. I can feel the air turning cooler, as day turns into night, my nipples tighten in anticipation. I lay down on my bed, the cool sheets caress my body, my hand reaches for the envelope left from earlier. I smile at reading the return address, Oh Patrick.
I read through the letter twice, carefully folding it back up before I tuck it into the envelope. I place it on my night stand as I reach over to turn the light off. I’m tired, there is nothing more to call it, been such a long day.

A hand reaches out through the darkness, she stirs gently. His fingers brush the hair back from her face, she smiles. Patrick smiles as his fingers caress her cheek, she means the world to him. His hands travel farther down her body, the sheet slips down her body, teasing her nipples into hardness. Patrick kisses his way down her body, teasing her, loving her. His tongue flicks against her aching clit, a gasp escapes her lips, his fingers part her swollen lips, fingers sink slowly into Caroline as her back arcs. She drives her hips against his fingers and his mouth, searching for the release. Within minutes it crashes over her, her soul rushes out around Patrick’s fingers as he slowly withdraws them. She struggles for breath, as he gently kisses her lips. “ I love you always and forever Caroline.” She murmurs an incoherent reply only he would understand. Patrick smiles at the woman he loves, without her he is lost.

I wake up with the first rays of daylight, feeling like I had just spent the night wrapped up in Patrick’s arms. I know I am supposed to pick him up in Grand Forks in just a few hours. Patrick caught a early morning flight out of Hancock, then a connection in MSP before he comes into GF. I’m looking forward to seeing him, I miss him so very much. I hurry to get cleaned up and dressed, it’s about an hour drive into Grand Forks from here. I put on some makeup, a little perfume before I pull on my boots. I bound down the stairs, check on the horses one last time before I hop in the Jeep. My fingers touch the pic of me and Patrick on the dash, as I grab first gear throwing a U in the barn lot.
The radio’s been playing the news pretty often, but I haven’t really been listening. I’m too concerned with the drive ahead of me, too set on seeing Patrick. The whole drive there my body feels like it’s been shocked with electricity. I glance over at the pic on the dash, tears start welling up in my eyes, I don’t know why. By the time I pull into Grand Forks, I’m crying like I just smashed my finger in the car door. I step out of the Jeep, walk up to the airport. I glance over at the arrivals board, the Delta flight from MSP in at 11, says to check with the ticketing deI waI walk over there, a sinking feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. The girl at the counter asks me if I am inquiring about the MSP flight, and of course I say yes, she comes from behind the desk, leading me down a hallway.
She ushers me into a room where people are sitting around silent, looking blankly off into space. I take a seat near the back, near the door. More people arrive, taking seats around me. I start to get nervous, I want to know what is going on. About 20 minutes later when the flights about to land, a man walks in, asking for our attention. I look up, the Jeep keys gripped tightly in my hand. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I regret to inform you that Delta Flight 109 from MSP into Grand Forks has crashed. We do not have any information other than that at this time. If you need anything, please check with me and I will make sure that everything that can be done to help you will be.”

I feel as if I am going to get sick, I jump out of my chair, running for the bathroom. I fall to my knees in front of the toilet, just in time to feel my breakfast coming up. My mind races, Patrick cannot be dead. He has to be alive, he just has to be. I finish throwing up, splash cold water on my face, and return to the room. I stagger up to the guy who broke the news, asking him if there were survivors. “Miss, we don’t know at this time, but if you will leave a numbou cou can be reached at and what passenger you are concerned about, once we know something someone will call you.” I take a pen and a sheet of paper from him, writing down my cell phone number and Patrick’s name. I get in the Jeep, and head east, I have to be the one to tell his family. If they should hear it from anyone it should be me.

It’s a painful drive all the way to Green Bay, it’s all I can do to keep drinking cokes to keep alert driving. I pull up outside of Patrick’s parents house, it’s late evening. I step out of the Jeep, Patrick’s Mom, Ruth Ann, is walking out to meet me, her arms outstretched. I practically fall into her arms, as she hugs me tightly. Tears stream down our faces, I crumple onto the front walk, as sobs wrack my body. It takes me a long time before I feel a pair of hands helping me up. I look up through my tears, seeing Patrick standing there my hand in his as he helps me up. “Paddy?” I squeak, hoping beyond hope it is him. “Come on Caroline, let’s go inside.” I wipe away the tears, looking a second time. It’s Patrick’s younger brother, Tom, they could almost pass for twins if there wasn’t so much age between them. My heart sinks as I walk into the house, Patrick’s whole family who lived near enough was there, along with my family. All sitting in front of the TV, glued to CNN. I hug my Mom and Dad tightly as my brothers come walking in from the kitchen with drinks in both hands. Mike hands me a coke, I take a deep breath and chug it. Knowing Mike like I do there had to be a shot of something in it.

The news said that tlanelane was hijacked by some terrorist sect, that there were some survivors, but the names were not being released as of yet. The plane crashed mostly intact, but some people had not been accounted for. I could only hope that Patrick was one of the survivors or one of the ones still missing. I know that sounds bad, bu cou could mean he was alive, wandering disoriented.

I sit down on the sofa next to Kim, Patrick’s youngest sister. My hand gently lays on my lower abdomen, as I lay back. “Cari, you ok? You look a little green.” I look over at her, a small smile crossing my lips. “I’m fine. Hey can you get everyone in here? I have something I need to tell everyone.” “Sure hon. Be right back.” It takes a few minutes for everyone to come back into the living room from the rooms they were scattered about in. I look at my Mother who nods her approval. I take a deep breath, looking at Ruth Ann and John, as silent tears fall down my face. “I want everyone here to know this, it was supposed to be a surprise for Paddy, and then we were going to tell everyone together. I’m pregnant with a little boy due in March. I was going to tell Paddy today when I picked him up. I want to name him Patrick Ryan, if that’s ok with you and John, Ruth Ann?” Ruth Ann starts crying, I stand to hug her. John hugs me as silent tears run down his cheeks. It’s all Ruth Ann can do to nod, “Yes, he should be named after his father. There is no discussion.” I sit back down as other family members come to congratulate me. My mother sits down next to me, talking quietly in our language so that no one else could understand. What she tells me fills me with hope, gives me a reason to carry on.
The night draws on longer, my son starts to become restless within me, I ask John if I may sleep in Patrick’s room, which was not an issue, but I felt I must ask. I walk up the stairs, down the hall, quietly opening the door to Patrick’s room. Soft light fills the room, I look over by the dresser, Ruth Ann is standing there, holding a picture of Patrick from when he was in boot camp. She never looks up from the picture, “John and I were scared but so very proud of him when he came home and told us he had joined the Navy. We knew it was what he really wanted to do, so we supported him. We really thought he would leave us fighting for freedom, not onboard a plane with a bunch of lunatics.” I walk over to her, hugging her gently, “Don’t give up hope yet. Paddy may still be alive out there, trying to find his way home. Maybe he is a hero, maybe he stepped in while these lunatics were carrying out their plan. Maybe he saved some people, we won’t know until the passengers come forward. I’m not going to ever give up hope until we know something for sure. I still believe my son will see his Daddy. Don’t give up.” Ruth Ann lovingly sets the picture frame back down on the dresser, tears staining her face. She looks at me as she turns to walk out, “Caroline, you must be exhausted. You need to get some sleep, if not for yourself, my grandson.” My hand rests on my gently swelled abdomen as a small smile forms across my lips. Ruth Ann hugs me one last time before she walks out, quietly closing the door behind her.
I sit at the foot of Patrick’s bed, pulling off my boots, wriggling out of my jeans. They are really getting tightight for me to wear at this stage in my pregnancy. I walk over to the gear bag laying on the floor by the window, it is full of clothes Patrick left here when we were here together at New Years. I dig out one of his tee shirts and a pair of flannel lined jogging pants that snap up the sides. I take off the rest of my clothes, leaving them in a pile at the foot of the bed as I pull on the tee shirt and pants. I shut off the light as I pull the blankets back, crawling into the cool sheets as I pull the blankets back over me. I know no one will bother me unless its something really important. I wrap my body around Patrick’s pillow, as my mind wanders back to the first time I was ever in this bed.

It was this past New Year’s when I first came up here from the farm with Patrick. I was so very nervous, I didn’t know what to do or think. Patrick would just grin and assure me that his family would love me as long as I treated him good and I loved him. I spent mof tof the night glued to Patrick’s hip as he introduced me to his family and friends that had gathered for the party. I guess he sensed my uneasiness being around strangers, and he led me up to his bedroom. He opened the door, leading me by the hand in the dark to sit on his bed. I remember him kneeling in front of me, making us nearly the same height, as hingeingers caressed my face, the moonlight bright in his eyes for just a second as his lopsided grin flashed across his face. His fingers unsnapped each of the snaps on my shirt, the palms of his hands gliding over my nipples, my head fell back, a soft moan escaping me. I toe out of my boots, Patrick’s fingers unbutton and unzip my jeans with ease, like he has done a hundred times before. He comes up to devour me in a kiss, as a low, evil chuckle comes from deep within him. “Baby, you have to be quiet ok?” He says against my lips, I nod knowingly.
He scoots me to the edge of the bed, hooking his fingers into the top of my panties and pulling them down my legs with my jeans. A sinister grin crosses his lips as one of his hands gently pushes me onto my back. I close my eyes as I feel his fingers brush over my skin, over my nipples, my stomach, over my pubic bone. Patrick eases my legs over his shoulders, bringing him ever that much closer to me. I can feel his warm breath teasing me, I whimper just a little as his fingers part my outer lips, again I hear him chuckle. I suck a breath between my teeth as he pushes fingers into me, his tongue laying attack on my aching clit. For what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes he loved me like this, the way he knew to make me come the quickest. I was gasping for breath from my orgasm when I felt him sink into me, my body molding around him. I remember Patrick biting into my shoulder to keep from crying out when he came, didn’t want anyone to start getting nosy. Lying there underneath him that night, I knew where my heart belonged. We laid there for a few minutes, touching, kissing, trying to put ourselves back together. Later on that night, in this bed, he more than made it up to me for biting into my shoulder. I had to bury my face in his neck to keep from being heard.


I wake up late in the morning, feeling a bit queasy with a headache. I peek out from under the blankets, seemy cmy clothes washed and folded on the dresser. I smile at the gesture, Ruth Ann must have snuck in while I was sleeping and gathered up my laundry. I dig another clean tee shirt out of Patrick’s clothes, grab my underwear off the dresser and head for the shower. I couldn’t help getting sick in the shower, my pregnancy has not been easy. It takes me a little while to get ready for the day, I’m still a little tired and queasy. I wander around downstairs, finding the house eerily empty and quiet. I follow my nose to the kitchen, finding Ruth Ann making lunch. “Where did everyone go?” I whisper, not knowing why. “They all went back to work, school and home. I told them all I would let them know if I knew anything. Your mother hopes you will stay with us until something happens. Are you hungry?” “A little bit. I still feel kind of sick. But I have to eat something.” Ruth Ann smiles knowingly, setting a glass of tea and a pb&j down in front of me. I pick at the food, not really hungry, but I know I have to eat for my son. “I remember when I was pregnant with Patrick, pb&j always made me feel better.” I eat a little of it, drinking the glass of tea before I get up from the table. Ruth Ann looks at me, her eyes fall to my stomach, now noticeable in Patrick’s jogging pants. “How far along are you? Twelve weeks? When is the due date?” “I’m right at twelve weeks, due on March first. We pretty much conceived when Patrick drove with me out to Lakota, ND. I’ve been meaning to tell him all this time, but I couldn’t tell him in a letter. This was something I had to tell him face to face.” I get up putting my plate and glass in the sink, quietly walking out of the kitchen.
I go back upstairs digging through Patrick’s clothes, looking for a pair of his jeans. I find a pair of well worn Levis, as I slip out of his jogging pants. The jeans feel soft against my legs, as I sit on the bed pulling my boots back on. I finish getting dressed in my clothes, and head down the stairs. I walk out of the house, getting into the Jeep. I don’t know where I am going yet, I just want to drive, clear my head, do something rather than wait in front of the TV or for the phone to ring. I sit there for a few minutes before I decide which way I am going. I start heading south, there is no other place I want to be right now. It’s a long drive, but I just don’t feel right being here with John and Ruth Ann withoatriatrick.
It starts to rain heavily about 20 minutes out from where I was heading, it fit my mood right on. By the time I pull the Jeep into the barn and walk into the house I am soaked through. My mother takes one look at me, throwing a kitchen towel at me as I walk past her, going up the stairs to my room. I wipe off my face, throwing the towel in the bathroom hamper. I towel dry my hair as I change clothes, this time opting for a pair of my brothers jeans. I throw on my waterproof Carhartt, as I walk out of the house out to the barn. I saddle up my horse, riding out of the barn into the rain. I ride along the creek, along the trail that I took Patrick on earlier in the summer. My heart fills with fear, even sadness, I can’t let myself believe he is gone. I look out into the storm, seeing my father’s horse with a rider in the saddle. I ride closer, the horse turns, running full bore away from me. I give chase, but my horse isn’t as fast as my father’s, I lost it somewhere in the storm. Hours pass as I ride along, the rain pours on down. I go head back into the barn, putting my horse back into her stall. My head hangs low as I walk back into the house, my heart heavy. I must have seen a ghost.
I throw my coat on the floor in the laundry room, kicking off my muddy boots, before I step into the kitchen. My Mom has left dinner sitting on the table for me, I leave it where it sits, opting for a hot shower and sleep. I grab some clothes out of my dresser in the dark before I turn on the light in my bathroom. I fill the tub with warm water as I undress, I test the water temperature with my hands, the heat makes my skingle.gle. Slowly I slide into the tub, the water feels good on my cold skin. I wash quickly, spending the rest of the time laying there enjoying the warmth of the water. As the water goes cold, I grumble to myself, grabbing the nearest towel as I drain the water from the tub. I don’t even bother putting on my clothes, my family knows when my bedroom door is shut that I want to be left alone. I inspect my body in the full length mirror for the first time in months, the changes suit me, I knew I wouldn’t stay thin forever.

I finish up in the bathroom, shutting off the light as I step into my bedroom. Home. There is no place I would rather be at a time like this. I get into my bed, the flannel sheets soft and cool against my skin. I lay there for what seems like forever staring at the ceiling, then I hear footsteps in the hall. I lay still, wondering who it could be at this hour of night. I fall asleep anyway, when you are this tired it doesn’t matter. I sleep in fitful stages, I dream of Patrick being dead, my son being born and never knowing his father. I hope beyond hope that he is not dead, this is the second day after the crash, there has to be some news.
I wake up feeling very tired, with a sudden urge to go pee. I run for the bathroom, making it just in time. I stumble back into bed, back to sleep. I sigh from deep in me, it’s been a long few days. I pull the sheets back over me, turn my head towards the door and fall asleep. I dreamed that Patrick was here on the farm, with me in my bed, telling me how happy he was to be a father, how beautiful I looked pregnant, while touching me and nuzzling my neck. I slowly open my eyes, knowing that it was just a dream, that he couldn’t really be here. My eyes open in shock when I realize that the touch was real, that it really is Patrick lying next to me in my bed. I stare in disbelief as tears fall down my cheeks, his eyes are haunted,ed, ed, as he himself cries while his hand rests on my stomach. I stretch up to kiss him, our lips meet tenderly, almost as if neither of us believe the other is there. Patrick’s arms crushingly come around me as sobs wrack both of us. All the questions can wait till later, right now we need each other. We lay there silent, I can feel his heart beating as I lay on his chest, it is the most comforting sound I have heard in a long time.
Patrick breaks the silence, whispering, “Baby, I love you so much. I had a dream about you while I was on the plane that you were pregnant, and it stayed with me the whole time I was fighting to help the other passengers and find my way home to you. It was the one thing that kept me pushing forward, I had a feeling that you would be here with your family rather than in Green Bay with mine. I had to come here, I had to be with you.” I start crying, each breath a struggle to take, “I couldn’t tell you in a letter, I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to believe you were gone, especially after I swore I saw you last night out on Dad’s horse. We’re having a son on your birthday, I can’t think of a better birthday gift than your son.” Patrick grins, his eyes brighten when it all sinks in, he hugs me tight to him.
I listen as Patrick tells me about the last two days for him. How he slept on the flight from Hancock to MSP, dreaming of me being pregnant. Less than ten minutes after take off from MSP a few Arabic guys got up and started making trouble. Patrick intervened, subduing one of the two guys, after the other shot the pilot and one of the stewardess’. The plane landed hard on its belly somewhere outside St. Cloud, some passengers died, Patrick helped others escape from the plane. He spent the night in a hospital in St. Cloud, the airline brought him his luggage, and put him on another flight going from MSP into Green Bay yesterday. He caught a cab to his parents house, missing me by only a few hours. His family was overjoyed to see him, but his mother was the one to break the news to him that I had left and she didn’t know where I had went. He stayed the night with his family before heading down here to find me. He knew I would be the only one here, letting himself into the house, finding me asleep.
We take a long shower together, just touching each other, getting reacquainted with each others bodies. We decide that getting lunch out somewhere in town is a good idea, as we get dressed. I wear a loose fitting pair of my brothers jeans with a soft cotton top. Patrick lovingly admires me as I get dressed, watching my every move. We walk out of the house out to the barn, Patrick uncovers the Jeep, slinging up into the seat as he starts the engine. We pull up into the driveway as a car pulls in, Patrick takes one look at it, “Oh shit.” He puts the Jeep in neutral, kills the engine, I start to ask him what’s wrong, but he holds up his hand as two Navy officers walk up to the Jeep.
“Chief Petty Officer John Patrick Arg Argayle?” one of them asks cautiously. Patrick looks at them, “Yeah that’s me.” “Chief Argayle, it has come to the Navy’s attention that during the distress of Delta flight 109 you acted bravely in the face of danger, putting the lives of the other passengers above yours, and saving countless lives. For this your country thanks you by awarding you with the Congressional Medal of Honor. You are hard man to find Chief Argayle.” The Officers salute Patrick as they hand him a long blue box. Patrick takes it from them, thanking them as they turn to go.
I look at Patrick, he opens the glove box on the Jeep, tossing the box inside. “Baby, I was just doing my job and these guys think it’s the best thing in the world. Any other red blooded American boy would have done the same thing.” He leans over grinning as he kisses me, “Besides, I got to have something for my boy to be proud of me for