Chapter 1 Newlyweds

“Sorry,” Dylan adjusted the weight in his arms. “You’re just not all that scary.”

The ghost shook his hands in the air over his head. “WooooEeeeeeAhhh.”

“The phrase you are working for is Boo.” Dylan walked past the ghost into the living room.

“Dylan!” said his new bride Liana with a rebuking tone.

“Boo is the idea he is trying to convey. Don't you think that is his intended meaning?” asked Dylan adjusting the weight again and chuffing like a tired horse, or donkey.

“Well I’m not setting foot in the apartment if it has ghosts.” Liana set her lips tight and shook her head at her husband.

“Be reasonable,” said Dylan in protest. “We’re across the threshold; I have to put you down sometime.”

“He is turning red in the face.” The ghost stared at Dylan. “Either you weigh more than you appear you would, or he can’t handle the weight.”

Dylan walked toward the ghost. “You’re so strong, do you want to take a turn?”

“I can’t hold any weight,” said the ghost with a shrug.

“Hey! I am not overweight.” Liana glared at both men.

“My guess is not actually being here, the ghost can’t lift or move anything,” Dylan explained. He tilted his head and batted his eyes at his bride. “Of course you are not overweight, my love, I must be under strong.”

Dylan carried Liana through the living room area of the apartment and through a door into an expansive room.

The ghost followed along.

Dylan narrated a tour of the apartment. “This flat used to be the manager’s office of the theater for the most part. He had a large office for staff meetings, there was a break room that is now a kitchen, and he had a private living space where the bedroom and the bathroom are."

Stopping in the expansive room he turned from side to side so his bride could scan the huge room. "I thought you might like to see this area. It used to be a rehearsal hall, and my Uncle Charlie included it in our flat as part of the remodeling."

Liana gazed at Dylan with lifted eyebrows and a smirk. "The backstage areas of the theater are now all redone as apartments. The stage and auditorium will be used for an event hall and the lobby, surprisingly enough, will be a lobby.”

“Why did he add this room to the dwelling you want me to live in?” asked Liana. "You seem to think it will make a difference to me."

“Well, he couldn’t figure out a way to use it as just another flat. He thought the building manager might as well have an oversized room."

Dylan turned to position his wife so her eyes would see the floor to ceiling curtains on one wall. "You might notice the floor to ceiling windows are in the south, so you would get excellent light in here all day.”

“Put me down, put me down,” said Liana.

When her feet hit the floor, she ran to the windows and pulled back the drapes. “Being high in the building like this, I get a view of the city as well. This could be my studio. Hey just a minute, did you say building manager, are we going to be the landlords here?”

“Just the building superintendent,” said Dylan. “That is why we get such an affordable rent.”

“Affordable rent!” The ghost shook his head and smirked. “He saw you coming boy. You should get rent free and be paid if you run the building.”

“Exactly,” Liana, nodded to the ghost. “You expect me to live here with a ghost, and listen to all the tenants' complaints and pay for the privilege? What a wonderful deal you got.”

Dylan scowled at both of his critics. “Uncle Charlie says once the apartments are rented he will pay us and not charge us rent. For the sake of the balance sheet he needs to show cash flow for now.”

“Okay, that makes some sense.” The ghost gave a judicial nod.

“Let’s go back to the living room and sit down,” said Dylan, walking to the door. “The situation calls for a discussion with Mr.—what did you say your name was?”

“Sid”, Sid Sidowski,” said the ghost. “And there is nothing to talk about. You saw the place now you need to leave.”

Entering the living room, Dylan casually took a seat on the couch, pointing toward a nearby overstuffed chair while looking at the ghost.

Liana entered the room. She took a seat on the couch next to her new husband, staring and shaking her head. The ghost stood in the middle of the room with one hand on his hip and the other pointing to the front door.

Dylan smiled patiently and indicated the chair with both hands in a palm-up gesture. The ghost crossed his arms and stared at the newlyweds. Liana glanced at Dylan and then the ghost and then she shrugged, pointing at the chair. After a few moments of pacing Sid Sidowsky sat down.

“To be reasonable, Mr. Sidowsky, what are you planning on doing in this space?” asked Dylan.

“It’s my office, it is where I do business. Now would you please leave.” The ghost crossed arms.

“We’ve rented the room from the owner,” said Dylan. “We need it as a place to live, not easy to find a spacious room this cheap.”

“I’m the owner,” The ghost, jutted out his chin glaring at the young marrieds. “The land was purchased by me. Besides that, I built the building and ran this theater for thirty years.”

“When was the last time you did any actual business in this office?” asked Dylan, in a calm voice.

“August thirteenth nineteen seventy-eight,” answered Sidowsky.

“Why no business after that day?” asked Dylan.

“That’s the day I had my stroke, right here in this room.”

“There was a will I assume?” asked Dylan.

“Of course!”

Dylan folded his hands in his lap. “Research could be done if I must. However, I will bet that whoever the theater was left to sold it. It was a warehouse for almost fifty years. My Uncle Charlie bought it. Not needing a warehouse or a theater he remodeled it into apartments. By law, he is the owner."

The young husband shifted his weight on the couch. "We rented this room from the legal owner. I think the chain of ownership means you must get out.”

“I’m a ghost. Ghosts get to haunt where they die!” huffed the ghost.

Liana joined the conversation “Who says you get to haunt where you died? Dylan’s right, the chain of ownership says you don’t have any right here, you gave away the place.”

“I worked here; I lived here. I died here for heaven's sake. Where do you expect me to go?” asked the ghost.

“Go to hell,” said Liana gently. “Better still go to heaven. You just can’t stay here. I plan to paint in that studio and live here.”

“Easy for you to say. Have you ever tried to find heaven, or hell for that matter?”

“We haven’t been in that situation ever," said Dylan. “Here’s a question for you. Can you lift my cell phone off this table?” Dylan put his phone on the table.

“I told you I couldn’t lift things.”

Dylan grinned and lifted his eyebrows. “Didn’t think so, based on that I would guess you can’t make us leave.”

“Well you can’t make me leave either. The difference is, I can make your life miserable with noises and cursing in the middle of the night.” Sid scrunched his face as he glared at the Garretts.

“I can get used to a lot of things.” Liana crossed her arms and made a face back at the ghost. “Who’s to say we can’t make your life, or I mean your death miserable?”

“Who said my death isn’t already miserable,” said Sidowsky groaning. He slouched in his chair. “You said it yourself, I’m dead why can’t I be in heaven? Heaven or hell or no place, just not stuck here with nothing to do.”

Dylan leaned forward. “So we can’t get rid of each other. Let’s try and find a way to get along. Can you go away if you want to?”

"Yes."

“So I propose that you leave us alone in the evening, unless we invite you to visit,” said Dylan.

The ghost pouted and stared at him.

“Most days I will be away at school or work. You haunt the apartment as much as you want during the day, leaving Liana alone in the studio while she paints.”

“Sounds like you get the best of the deal."

“Well, we have the better claim, legally,” Liana said. “Still I imagine it has been bitterly lonely haunting an empty warehouse.”

“It has,” nodded Sidowsky.

“Well, from four to six we can socialize,” said Dylan, with his head to one side and a kind expression on his face. “That way we can have some peace, and you can have some companionship.”

“Worth a try, I guess." Sid furrowed his brow, then shrugged.

“Perhaps, we can figure out between the group of us why you are stuck here, and how you can move on.” Liana said with a sweet tone in her voice.

“That’s an idea too. Since we are going to be friends you can call me Sid.”

“A pleasure to meet you Sid. We are Liana and Dylan.” Liana gave with a broad smile. She extended her hand and realized that it would not work.

“I guess it is time for me to leave the place to you. Good night.” The ghost faded away as he walked through a wall.

Chapter 8 The Grumpy Tenant in Number 10

The tenant in apartment ten did not intend to be grumpy. Tim Petersen possessed an unfortunate collection of problems that combined to push him toward grumpiness. First a nagging toothache, which never makes it easy to be cheerful. The tooth ache stayed with him for weeks, getting worse. That dentists terrified him did not help.

First the toothache, then the ghost made his life almost unbearable.

When the theater apartments opened Mr. Petersen thought they sounded perfect. A high-class neighborhood within walking distance of his work.

The charm of the original building proved to be a selling point difficult to resist. Tim signed on even though the cost of first, last, and deposit eliminated his life savings.

He comforted himself that his savings were so meager they would never be much of a retirement, anyway.

The ghost was not noisy or intrusive, so much as disconcerting. All he ever saw were eyes floating almost out of his field of vision, hiding.

Whenever he glimpsed the eyes, he found them to be uncommonly pretty eyes. Perhaps they were the eyes of a young woman, but he wasn't sure from fleeting glimpses.

At first he tried to ignore it and told himself he imagined things, but he still saw the eyes.

They were looking over his shoulder as he brushed his teeth or shaved.

Tim caught their reflection in the toaster, or the glass on the microwave. Swinging around to face them directly, the eyes were always gone.

As the days went on, he decided that a full apparition with chains and howling would be easier to take than the fleeting eyes.

Saving up to fix the tooth fixed kept him locked into this apartment. The eyes always behind him haunted his days. However, he could not move out.

It would take him at least a year to save up first, last, and deposit for someplace else. 

Surrendering to the fact he would be stuck in this haunted apartment, Mr. Petersen found he became grumpy.

The final straw came when he almost tripped over the vacuum left in the hall by the dimwitted janitor. If he could not move, at least he would complain.

Going to the apartment manager, he stopped on the way to gaze out the floor to ceiling window in the hall opposite the office door.

Most janitors that called themselves apartment managers had small basement apartments. This one was living like a king. The least he could do was not trip the tenants.

A lovely young woman in her twenties opened the door. “Good Morning, how can I help you?” asked the young woman.

“I’m here to talk to the apartment manager,” Tim Petersen grumped. “I have complaints, and he better listen.”

“Sorry, my husband is away right now,” came the lyrical voice of the young woman. “Come in and sit down. Perhaps I can help. Would you care for some lemonade or hot chocolate?”

Despite his mood, Tim appreciated the kind welcome.

Tim went into the apartment and sat in an overstuffed chair in the Livingroom. He accepted some lemonade.

“If I am correct, you are Mr. Petersen from apartment ten,” said Liana, bringing in the lemonade in a cup with a ginger snap cookie in the saucer. “What is the problem?”

Tim Petersen fully intended to complain about the vacuum in the hall, but the young woman proved so concerned, and her smile so comforting, he spilled his actual problems.

“It’s the ghost. The ghost is tormenting me,” he said. “My tooth is killing me, and the ghost is following me all over my apartment. It is too much. Oh, and I almost tripped in the hall.”

“Oh, I am so sorry,” said Liana in a comforting tone. She peered behind Tim Petersen to see Sid. She raised her eyebrows at the ghost, who shrugged and shook his head. “You say you are you bothered by a ghost?”

“I think it is a ghost,” said Tim. “All I ever observe are the eyes. They look like a young woman’s eyes.”

Tim distractedly took a nibble of the ginger snap. "The eyes are as lovely as yours, but while you have green eyes, the ghost has blue eyes." 

The tenant glanced around for a place to set his cup but did not find a table. "Also, of course, they look like ghost eyes, not real person eyes."

Tim Petersen sipped the lemonade. “Ohhh.” He reached up and touched his jaw as he moaned.

“Let’s not think about the ghost for a minute. You are clearly in pain and your mouth appears a little swollen. Why haven’t you seen a dentist?” Asked Liana.

“The pain is not as bad as seeing a dentist,” said Tim. “If I am lucky, the tooth will fall out on its own.”

“That’s not the right answer,” chided Liana. “A dentist could fix you up in no time.”

“Dentists scare me,” said Tim. “Let’s get back to the ghost. It isn’t as scary.”

“Why in the world are you scared of dentists?” asked Liana. “I have one that is very gentle. You would like her.”

Tim rested his head in his hand, his finger massaging the part of his mouth that appeared swollen. It appeared as if he was going to pout and refuse to talk.

Absent-mindedly, he took a drink of the cold lemonade. The cold hit the tooth, and he found it difficult swallowing instead of spitting out the liquid before he moaned loudly.

Tim swayed back and forth a moment before he told his story.

“When a child, my mother took me to the dentist at least three times a year. The dentist was a grumbly, mean man whose fingers always carried the odor of onions.”

Tim absently lifted the cup again, almost bringing it to his mouth. Stopping, he glared at it a moment and returned it to the saucer.

"This dentist would poke all over my mouth with sharp things. He would shove a needle into my mouth and walk out of the room. The dentist would complain to my mother that I was always making noises."

Tim's forehead furrowed as he sighed and shrugged. "My mother would come in and tell me to be good and not make the dentist nervous with my whining."

"Didn't she ask if you were in pain?" asked Liana.

“The dentist would tell her he had numbed me.”

Liana frowned and shook her head. "I guess moms don't always understand."

Rubbing his jaw slightly, Time said, "I suspect he intimidated her, too. For my part, I tried not to make sounds, but it hurt every time. It made me feel like a coward because I could not stop reacting to the pain and the dentist told me it didn’t hurt because he gave me a shot.”

Tim paused and reached for the cup of lemonade. He stared warily at the cup and shook his head. “When I was fourteen, I went through the same torment as always before.”

"I walked out of the dentist’s office that day and took a deep breath of cold winter air. Suddenly, my mouth went numb." Tim's face showed triumph. "That is when I realized that is what it should have felt like."

Tim shook his head. "The dentist appeared to not know where to shoot the pain killer. Well, never again. I have not seen a dentist since.”

“I am so sorry, Mr. Petersen,” said Liana.

“It’s easy to understand how you would be afraid to do that again.” Liana pulled her cell phone out. “My dentist knows how to work painlessly, I promise.”

Tim's eyes grew large as he shook his head. Liana gave a reassuring smile. "And she pays attention to reactions and is totally supportive. Why don’t we do something about your tooth? Who knows, maybe if the tooth doesn’t hurt, you won’t see the ghost's eyes.”

“I'm not sure, Mrs.---”

“Mrs. Garrett, call me Liana,” said Liana, with a gentle smile.

“I don’t understand why, Liana, but I feel I can trust you. Give me your dentist’s number. I’ll make an appointment,” Tim said.

“It so happens I have an appointment this morning,” said Liana. “Why don't I give her office a call and determine if she can’t help you instead?”

Liana walked out of the room to use her phone, nodding at Sid to follow her.

* * * * * * * *

“Is that you tormenting this poor man?” asked Liana when she entered the other room with Sid.

“Not me,” said Sid. “To begin with, I certainly do not have the eyes of a young woman, and mine are brown.”

“I am going to get him to my dentist's office. While we are away, will you go down to number ten and check if you can find the ghost he thinks he has seen?”

Sid nodded meaningfully as Liana called her dentist’s office.

Sid Searches Apartment 10

Sid paused to gaze at the door of apartment 10. He could not help but chuckle to himself. He was the perfect person to search.

Sid did not have to pick the lock, since he went right through the door. He didn’t need a search warrant because, if caught, he could disappear and evade detection.

As Sid entered the apartment, the thought in his mind was how to find a ghost that did not want to be found.

The ghost did not walk around in full view, nothing but floating eyes. That did not give him much to find. Should he find the ghost, how would he handle the discovery?

Sid had sudden misgivings. Although he was impervious to trouble from the living, he had never considered what impact a ghost could have on him.

Sid was the one and only ghost he knew, other than Jay, and he proved he could control that one. He could not push, shove, or hit the living, but what about another ghost?

A malicious ghost might be a danger to him, and this ghost was malicious. It appeared to be purposely haunting Tim Petersen. What might it do to poor Sid Sidowsky?

If this ghost did not have malicious intent, it would certainly reveal itself. Although displeased by Dylan and Liana moving in, Sid remained polite enough to show himself.

Sid avoided the builders during the remodel, but in doing so, he stayed unseen. This ghost was nothing but creepy eyes floating around the apartment. That had to be scary and so intended to be a cruel haunting.

Sid thought of something that gave him a chill. Tim Petersen had said only the eyes showed. Was that like the eyes you see through a ski hood?

Or were the two eyeballs floating around themselves with no part of the face showing between them?

Sid had second thoughts about the search and headed back to the door. Then he caught the eyes behind him. A mirror hung on the door and over his shoulder he saw the reflection of the eyes.

They were not floating eyeballs, thank heavens. They were the eyes and the face between them.

Even that small portion of a face was beautiful, as were the eyes. They did not seem in the least cruel. They were like the eyes of a lonely person, not sure what to do.

“I know I am not the only ghost in this apartment,” said Sid to the open air, purposely not trying to stare into the floating eyes.

“My name is Sid Sidowsky. Before I died, I owned this theater. One day I suffered a stroke and died in the office here. It would be a pleasure to meet you. What is your name?”

“Mary.” A very faint answer came from the air. Sid watched lips appear only long enough to say the name.

“It's delightful to meet you, Mary.” Sid turned around, but the eyes floated away like they were running. He walked into the living room area of the apartment and sat down.

Pointing to a chair across from him, he said. “I mean you no harm, Mary. Won’t you sit down and talk with me? After spending years alone, I found I missed interacting with others."

Sid cajoled while waiting to see the eyes opposite him. "I have made friends with people living in my apartment, but would like to have a ghost for a friend. I am sure we have a great deal in common with each other.”

The eyes floated over to the indicated chair and changed levels, looking as though she might have sat down. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sid,” said the soft voice with the mouth appearing long enough to frame words.

“Mary, why don’t you appear all the way? Just seeing your eyes is a little disconcerting.” Sid realized he perceived her ears and wisps of dark hair that covered them as he spoke.

“I stopped, I guess. It is possible to see and hear and speak, but I can’t smell or touch or taste. Time went on. I didn’t think of anything but my eyes and ears. So that is all that appears now."

The eyes glanced up for a moment before the mouth appeared again. “For years, I lived in this room when they used it as an empty warehouse.”

"One day the nice man with a toothache moved in and I found it less lonely to watch what he was doing.” The mouth appeared long enough to speak, showing a shy smile.

“You know, floating eyes are scarier than a whole person.” Sid said gently. “Will you try to fully appear while we talk?”

“Oh, I am sorry,” said Mary. “I still did not think about that.” Mary appeared sitting in the chair.

She had generous quantities of dark hair in the style from the late 1960s, a dark turtleneck, plaid miniskirt, and knee-high boots. She was lovely, older than a teenager, but still in her early twenties. “Did you know someone murdered me?”

“No, I didn’t! Please tell me about it.” Sid said.

"Right after college, I got a small part in a play here. The first day, I showed up early and walked in just as a man was closing the wall over there."

"Closing the wall?" asked Sid.

Mary nodded. "Putting in a last brick, you know, like that story by Edgar Allen Poe I read in high school.”

“Really?” Sid said. “Why was he doing that?”

“I guess he had hidden something in a cavity behind the bricks,” said Mary.

“The dangerous man asked if I saw what he hid. I told him no. But he said he guessed it didn’t matter, since I would tell something was in the wall, anyway." Mary recoiled from the memory.

"The man pulled out a gun and shot me. No more warning, just bang. I must have fainted because I woke up to see him having a gunfight with the police. The dangerous man got shot and his ghost rose from the corpse.”

“That must have been terrifying!” Sid said, leaning forward in his chair. “Did his ghost try to hurt you?”

“The killer glared at me, angry and full of hate,” said Mary breathlessly.

Mary bit her upper lip as her eyebrows came together. “But before he could come toward me, dark shadows swirled around him, compressed into nothingness and he was gone, leaving only a scream.”

Sid stared into the distance for a few minutes quietly. A question grew in his mind. “Demons dragged the killer, a criminal who murdered such an attractive young actress, to hell.”

Mary had a pouting expression on her face as she said, “Kind of. I saw a bright light, but I wasn’t aware I was dead yet."

She shook her head as she frowned. "So much happening then. The police and then the dead wicked man and the swirling blackness. It confused me. I paid little attention to the light. Ever since I have been stuck in this room.”

“What about the rest of the theater?” Sid asked. “Why didn’t you at least visit the rest of the theater?”

“I would have liked that. I might have watched some plays before the theater closed,” said Mary.

“Unluckily, I never found myself in the right place when someone came through the door, and I was afraid of not getting back in here. There is something drawing me here since I died here.”

“You’re a ghost,” said Sid. “You could go through the wall or the door anytime.”

“I can?” Mary exclaimed with excitement. She jumped up and ran to the door, then hesitated.

She disappeared, all except her eyes. The eyes went to the door and disappeared, clearly going out into the hall.

On the other side of the door in the hallway, the eyes floated through the door to glance around, which surprised Enid Waters at the door of apartment 9.

Enid had just returned from buying groceries. She made a gasp, then a gurgle, followed by another gasp.

Enid had nothing else to say. It did not help that ears that were trying to hear what Enid was not saying followed the eyes.

It still did not help when the rest of Mary’s head appeared, as she said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Fortunately for Enid, Arabella Mahoney from number 11 was coming down the hall. Arabella helped Enid keep her feet even though Enid felt faint.

Arabella took the key from Enid’s hand and unlocked the door of number 9. “Mary,” said Arabella. “Your head sticking out through that door is not helping.”

“You know who I am?” Mary asked, surprised.

“What’s going on?” Sid asked, sticking his head through the wall.

Arabella ignored them both and took Enid into her apartment. Half an hour later, there was a knock at the door of number 10.

Arabella heard a male voice within. “Check the door to see if it’s locked.”

The door proved to be locked, and so Arabella could not open it.

Sid and Mary came out through the wall. Arabella signaled for them to follow her and led them to her apartment, which was number 11.

Once inside the apartment, Mary asked, “You called me by name. How do you know me?”

“Mary, you stayed young while I got old,” said Arabella. “I guess being dead has advantages."

Arabella took a seat and signaled for her guests to do the same. "We went to high school and college together. I’m Arabella Mahoney. After your murder, I got my first acting job replacing you.”

“Why did other lady get so scared, and you didn’t react?” Mary asked. “After all, I not only had my head sticking out of the door, but you also know about my murder.”

“Please, Mary,” scoffed Arabella. “I’ve been an actress for almost forty years."

Arabella pulled back in her chair and gave her shoulders a little shake. "Of course you frightened me. That doesn’t mean I would drop out of character. At the moment I was playing the helpful neighbor."

Arabella paused and looked thoughtful. "Playing the surprised neighbor, I would have screamed on cue.”

The two ghosts and the poised actress had a cup of chamomile tea and conversation. One cup of tea being enough for the three of them.

Mary promised Arabella to fully appear in the future or not appear at all.

Sid ducked back into apartment 10 and put his head through the wall, discovering a large bag of jewelry.

Going forward from that day, several people were happy.

Enid was happy because the ghosts carefully avoided appearing in front of her, and her doctor adjusted her blood pressure medication.

Arabella enjoyed visiting Mary and telling her stories about the theater.

it made Sid happy to have another friend with whom he could spend time. He and Mary would visit each other, and sometimes they would visit Arabella.

Liana enjoyed having some more ghost paintings to make. The dentist was happy because Mr. Petersen paid her promptly.

The lawyer that Mr. Peterson consulted was happy, his fee being promptly paid.

Mr. Petersen had reason to be happier, since his tooth no longer hurt, and he was not afraid of his new dentist. However, he was not happy.

The lawyer had clarified that no judge would take him seriously trying to break a lease because of a ghost.

So, Mr. Petersen was stuck living where he did. He didn’t have money for a new first, last and cleaning deposit, not after paying a dentist and a lawyer. The apartment was commodious enough. It was convenient to downtown, comfortable, and he had courteous neighbors.

His resident ghost was fully visible, and a beautiful young woman, but she also liked to talk. Tim often wished the eyes were following him around quietly. The worst thing was that she had come up with another ghost somewhere and the other ghost would come over to visit her far too often. Mr. Petersen spent much of his time watching television with earphones and waiting for his lease to expire.

Mr. Petersen Gets Some Rest

Tim Peterson didn't really mind being haunted. At least he was getting used to it. Sid seemed like a nice enough guy and Mary was certainly an attractive young lady to have around.

He wouldn't have been overly interested in Mary, even if she had been alive. He appreciated beauty, and she was beautiful.

Still, Tim’s ambivalence towards relationships kept him from being fascinated by her. A quiet person who had always enjoyed his own company, he found relationships taxing.

As time passed, he resented Mary and her ghostly friends less. He told himself he enjoyed having them around, and he almost believed himself.

It was fine whenever he had his earphones on. He could watch TV, or listen to music, and they wouldn't disturb him, much.

He found it interesting that they had taught themselves to move small objects. Sid and Mary could now throw dice. How they did, Tim did not understand.

And they could use a pencil and change sheets of paper. Therefore, the two ghosts spent a lot of time playing Yahtzee. The ghosts were ultra polite, always inviting him to join them.

Tim never accepted their invitation. Mary and Sid would sit around talking and enjoying each other's company. Tim did not wish to intrude.

Sometimes he did think of joining the game, but the dice, paper and pencil moving by themselves upset him at a deep level.

Tim could tell that the ghosts did not feel they were intruding on his space and time. That was good, since he intended to be polite and welcoming. They were his guests.

That they were intruding was not something Mr. Petersen wanted to bring up. He also did not mention they weren’t even pitching in on the rent.

Tim was happy they were enjoying themselves. It must be demoralizing to be a ghost.

He did not mind them using his apartment as a clubhouse if they played their game out of his field of vision. He was a quiet man with quiet habits that did not include spooky dice and pencils.

Despite adjusting to the ghosts, sometimes he desperately had to escape. He usually had to leave when he wanted to stay in the house most.

The times when he would have liked to put his feet up, play some music and read a book were the times when he was most annoyed by his guest ghosts, and he had to find another place to exist for some time.

He took off his slippers, put on his tight shoes, apologized to the guests that were driving him out and went for a walk.

Sometimes he would just go for a long walk. Other times, he would go down to the stores that were nearby and wander in their aisles.

On one day, he just decided that he would go for a short walk, pick up a newspaper, and then return.

His walk was even shorter than intended.

Tim Petersen walked across the street to the newsstand, looked over the possibilities, selected a paper and bought it.

Not overly ready to return to his apartment, he was looking at some headlines in other papers. He stepped back to get a better view and bumped into a skateboarder who was passing.

The skateboarder got knocked off the board, falling into a rack of papers. Tim fell backwards, landing face up on the skateboard.

He went sliding out onto the road. He watched the clouds in the sky as he dropped off the curb. Tim resembled a mechanic about to slide under a car.

Sadly for him, what he did was slide under a city bus. Even worse, he did not slide under the chassis but under the wheels.

Right after both sets of the bus’s wheels ran over him, he saw a bright light. In the light, Tim recognized somebody he knew. It seemed like his grandfather was coming to visit him. his dead grandfather is coming to visit him.

Without being told, Tim knew it was time to go on. He was seeing a tunnel of light and a dead relative, both clues that he was no longer living.

He peered at his grandfather and asked, “I won't be haunted, will I?”

“Not here, I promise,” said his grandfather.

That is how the theater apartment building lost its first tenant. Nina Bauers was the first to know since she was on the bus. She crossed the street and took the elevator up to tell Liana and Dylan.