Next Step -- A Story for Hallowe'en -- by Susan Price

Thanks. Obliged.

Hallowe’en, yeah?

Going to hang up your furry spiders and plastic skulls, eh? ‘Cos tonight’s the night graves open and give forth their dead.

Ghosts on Hallowe’en? Get off. You can see ghosts any night of the week. Oooh, it’s behind you! And in front of you, and alongside you and following you up the stairs.

Never seen a ghost? Well, you’ve never been homeless, have you? Never slept in a nice, comfy doorway.

Except you don’t sleep. Too cold. Too dangerous. You doze, off and on, all night. Wake up with a jump every few minutes. Half-sleep is the best you get.

A few nights like that strips something away. And you see the ghosts.

They walk past you, walk around you, walk up and down the street, across the street, in and out of doors... They stop by your doorway and stand there and stare at you. And then walk on. No wonder they say ghosts ‘walk.’ They walk all right. Day and night. Go sleepless for a few nights and you see ‘em. You see ‘em in broad daylight. Walking.

Like an old photo, they are. Sepia. All sorts. All ages. Men, women, kids. And dogs, cats, horses, donkeys. Walking, walking. I don’t know where they’re going. Maybe they don’t either.

I’ve sat and watched ‘em, hours at a time. They stream past. A time stream?

Dressed? Couldn’t tell you about that. I don’t notice clothes much. They walk through each other, in and out of each other. Some are ankle deep in the road, others walk above it. You get, like, an impression… A hat. A long skirt. But even if the ghosts are wearing the ghosts of clothes, I couldn’t tell you anything about ‘em.

All those people… All that time, all those years gone by… It’s sort of soothing.

I think so. Peaceful. I’ll be with ‘em soon. Winter’s coming. I shall doze off one night and instead of jumping awake the next minute, I shall get a real good long sleep.

I look forward to it. Don’t trouble me, not really. The next stage, innit? I been an egg, a babby, a kid, an adult… It’s just the next step. In the walk.

I saw my dad die. He made it look easy. Scary? Everything’s scary when it’s the first time. Sleeping on the street was scary the first time. Then you get used to it.

I shall take the next step and walk away with ‘em all and go walking, walking, walking. Fade into the crowd and walk and walk and walk.

You’ll be walking the dog some dark night and I’ll be in the crowd walking with you, walking behind you, or in front of you, or alongside you, walking, walking and you’ll never know…

Walking, walking, walking…

 Nightcomers

 

 Hauntings

 

Overheard in a Graveyard