Gretchen spins around at the sound of the voice, simultaneously surprised and not surprised to find Everett in the bathroom with her. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“That lacy black thing you’re holding—wooo.” His eyebrows jump, then his head tilts as he examines the thong in her hand. “How does it... work?”
“No. No commenting on my underwear. Actually, no talking to me at all. I’m extremely pissed off at you.”
“At me?” He places a hand over his heart with the affectation of an offended southern lady. “What did I do?”
“What did you do? Seriously? You pushed me into a gigantic puddle.”
“Oh, right. That.” Everett attempts to casually lean against the bathroom door, his elbow going through the wood. “Sorry, doll, but I had to do it. And it worked, didn’t it? Got you inside the house.”
“Buthowdid you do it?” Gretchen asks, remembering the frigid push against her lower back and the terrifying rush of falling forward as that painful cold burst into her limbs. “Whenever we came into contact before, we went through each other. Yougo right through everything solid.” She gestures to the situation with his elbow and the door. “But I felt you touch me.”
“Right. So I, uh, actuallycantouch things, if I focus real hard,” he says. “But it takes a lot of effort and energy, and it kind of hurts to do. Not physically but like, psychically? And it makes me poof.”
“Poof?”
“Yeah, into the Nowhere. Which is unpleasant. So I don’t do it too often.” He scratches at his dimpled chin. “Oh, by the way, how long was I gone? I’ve always wondered.”
“I don’t know. Ten minutes, maybe?”
“Oh, not that long, then. I never could tell if it was a minute or two months. Time is confusing enough in the In-Between, but in the Nowhere it’s like it doesn’t exist at all. Disorienting as heck when I come back out the other side.”
Gretchen’s curiosity annoyingly wins out over her desire to end this conversation and peel off her soggy clothing. “What, exactly, is the Nowhere?” she asks.
Everett shrugs one shoulder. “It’s, well, it’s nowhere. It’s dark, except also light. And so, so loud. But also silent? Mostly it’s like I simply cease to exist for a bit. I’m not a big fan. I enjoy existing, even if it’s only as a ghost.” He looks her up and down as if assessing the damage, and then his eyes stop on the muddy backpack atop the toilet’s lid. “Anyway, sorry about your bag there. I would’ve moved it out of the way, but that would have poofed me before I could push you. And, well, needs must and all that.”
The wet fabric of her clothing chafes her clammy skin as she reaches for the towel cabinet. “You could’ve just told me what you were thinking and I could’ve fallen in myself. And spared my bag.”
“Hey, now, that would’ve been a good idea.” Everett standsstraighter. “Say, you should definitely be the brains of this operation.”
Gretchen rolls her eyes. “I have to admit that the thoroughness of the damage is probably more convincing. But no more touching me without permission. Got it?”
“Aye, aye, captain,” he says, grinning. “Say, you showering now? Mind if I stick around?”
“What? Yes, I absolutely mind. Get out.”
“Aww, but I asked so nicely! And I usually don’t even have to ask, so I think I deserve some credit for bothering.”
Gretchen is actually talking to a ghost after years of pretending to do just that, and he’s trying to convince her to get naked in front of him.Men. “Is that how you get your kicks? Watching people shower?”
“Look. People just come into the bathroom when I happen to be in here and...” Everett mimes someone disrobing. “It’s not like Irequestto be privy to their skivvies.”
“Right, and you’re just hanging out in the bathroom because...?”
He shrugs. “Flattering lighting?”
She gives him her most judgmental look, even though she’d probably do the same in his circumstances. In fact, Gretchen decides, anyone who says they wouldn’t take advantage of being invisible in a somewhat gross way at least occasionally is probably lying. “You’re a pervert, Everett Waybill,” she chides as a formality.
“Hey, being dead is a real snore. I take what I can get. Besides, people can’t even see me—except you, of course—so no one’s the wiser. No harm, no foul, right?” He pauses. “So, um... that’s a no on sticking around while you undress, then?”
She takes off a soggy boot and throws it at his head. It sails right through and hits the door behind him, leaving a splatter of mud in its wake. “Out!”
“Fine, fine, I’m going,” he says, then walks through the wall into the next room.
Even though any remaining doubts Gretchen had that Everett is truly not among the living were thoroughly squashed by him poofing out of and back into the physical plane, watching him do things that shouldn’t be possible still takes a massive mental toll. So her brain is stalled when a knock comes at the door. Considering knocking would apparently cause Everett to disappear again, that must be Charlie.
Gretchen answers the door, half expecting an inquisition regarding to whom she was talking. Maybe an accusation that she was calling some accomplice to give a status update. But instead Charlie averts his eyes (despite her only having removed a single boot so far) and says, “I didn’t hear the shower yet and I thought I should... I thought you might need... for your wet things,” then thrusts a kitchen-size trash bag in her direction.
