Queer Ghost Stories Volume Two

The MothsOLIVIA HAD JUST STARTED cleaning out the closet when Shay walked through the door. It was nice, Shay having a key. Made Olivia feel like an actual grown-up person with an actual grown-up relationship. “Brought a pizza,” Shay called from the kitchen. “Get it while it’s hot!” Olivia rushed toward the pizza smell. “Did you get it from... you did!” She hugged her girlfriend tight. Her favourite pizza was from the supermarket, which she didn’t tell a lot of people because it sounds weird, but they had stone ovens right there in the store and they put on tons of cheese. It was really delicious. At least, she thought it was. Shay wasn’t a huge fan of the sauce they used, but that just went to show what a great girlfriend she was: she brought the kind of pizza Olivia liked. She really cared. “I was just about to clean out my bedroom closet,” Olivia said as they sat down to eat. “Oh, that’s good. Listen...” “Apartment inspections are coming up next week.” “Sounds great. Look, I—” Shay c****d her head. “Apartment inspections?” “Yeah, they do it once a year,” Olivia replied, not too worried that her mouth was full of pizza. “They come around, change the battery in the smoke detector, check that everything’s in working order, make sure you’re not a hoarder or operating a meth lab. Don’t they do inspections at your place?” “No,” Shay said, scratching her head curiously. Her hair was getting long which, for Shay, meant close to an inch. She cut it herself with an electric razor, but it looked really good the way she did it. People were always coming up to her on the street and asking who cut her hair. “They inspect your closet too?” Olivia laughed and said, “No, not my closet, but I always use the inspection as an opportunity for spring cleaning. Might as well, right?” “Right, sure, good.” “You haven’t taken one bite of your pizza,” Olivia pointed out. “I know. I know I haven’t. Look, Livi, there’s something I need to tell you. Something I heard at school.” “Oh.” Olivia put down her pizza. This sounded serious. Shay worked as a gym teacher at an all-girls school, and sometimes there were controversies with parents or even with other teachers about her being a lesbian. They thought she’d try to recruit her students to the dark side or something. It was all so stupid. “Is it that lady again? The mother with those twins?” “No, it’s nothing to do with me, Livi. It’s more... teacher news. I heard it through the teacher grapevine.” “Oh my gosh, do you remember the California Raisins?” Olivia asked. “Remember how they did that song? I heard it through the grapevine...” Shay grabbed Olivia’s free hand and squeezed. “I need you to listen to me, okay? Can you focus please? I’ll make it quick.” “You talk, I’ll eat,” Olivia said before taking a big bite of pizza. Shay didn’t say anything. So Olivia took another bite. With a sigh, Shay looked down at her T-shirt and track pants. They had her school logo on them, which was a fancy-looking tree. Finally she said, “Mr. Davies died. I thought you’d want to know.” The feeling Olivia got when Shay said those words was so strange. It was like someone picked her up and tossed her against the wall. She felt far away from herself, far away from her body. She was looking right at Shay, but seeing her through this long tunnel. “Livi?” Shay asked. “You okay?” Olivia didn’t answer. She didn’t even know the answer. She couldn’t process what she’d just been told. “Mr. Davies died? He’s dead? Like, for real?” Shay nodded solemnly. “Is there a funeral? Should I go to it?” “No, babe.” Shay squeezed her hand gently. “No there isn’t a funeral or no I shouldn’t go to it?” “There is a funeral, but you shouldn’t go to it.” Shay quieted her voice before saying, “When my abuser died I went to his funeral, and it brought up all sorts of—” “He wasn’t my abuser!” Olivia shouted. Shay obviously wasn’t prepared for that. She just stared at Olivia and said nothing. Olivia slapped what was left of her pizza slice on her plate and stood from her chair. “Just because you were abused, you want to think everyone else was too. Well, I wasn’t. Mr. Davies was older and I was younger, but so what? Older and younger people can have a relationship without it being abuse. You’re older than me! Are you abusing me?” “I’m older by two years,” Shay said slowly. “That’s hardly the same thing. Mr. Davies was your teacher and you were sixteen.” “Yeah, so?” Olivia said. “That’s not the same as what happened to you. You were an actual child, like a little kid. I was a teenager.” “You were underage and he was in a position of power.” “So what? Stop telling me it was something it wasn’t. I loved him. He was my first love.” “He was a married man sleeping with a student. There’s no redeeming what he did to you, Livi.” Olivia picked up her plate and slammed it on the ground. She expected the stoneware to smash, pieces to fly all over the floor, but nothing like that happened. In fact, nothing happened. It didn’t even bounce. Just sat there on the parquet flooring with her slice of pizza sitting neatly on top. Shay leaned down with more effort than it should have taken a gym teacher. She picked up the plate and put it back on the table. “You’re just mad because I loved a man,” Olivia spat. Shay seemed really tired now. She sighed. “I’m not mad, Livi. I just think you haven’t quite come to terms with what happened to you.” “Nothing happened to me! I was in love. You’re just being like this because you hate bisexuals.” “Oh my God.” Shay covered her face with both hands. “You’re reaching at straws, babe. I have nothing against bisexuals. If you’d gone out with a boy your own age, fine, but this wasn’t that. I think you really need to talk to someone, because what happened to you was not consensual.” “Yes it was!” Olivia cried. “I consented. I bet I wanted it to happen even more than he did. He’s the one who kept saying no, we shouldn’t, it was wrong, he was my teacher.” Calmly, Shay replied, “This is what I’m saying: he knew it was wrong and he did it anyway.” “It was only wrong because he had a wife,” Olivia said, as though she were making some sort of concession. “It was wrong of me to sleep with a married man.” Shay’s head started shaking side to side like it was saying no, no, no. She had to actually hold it still with both hands to make it stop. “Oh, Livi. Oh, Liv. Oh, honey, you did nothing wrong. He did. What he did to you was wrong. It was wrong. It was so, so wrong.” A burst of anger surged through Olivia’s body and she said, “How dare you speak ill of the dead?” Shay didn’t seem to have any response to that question. “I want to go to his funeral,” Olivia went on. “I want to say goodbye.” Shay nodded slowly. “I understand that. Trust me, I understand what you’re going through. But it might be harder than you think. His wife will be there, and his children. It might bring up emotions you didn’t even know you had.” “No it won’t,” Olivia snapped. “I’m going. When is it?” Shay breathed in deeply and exhaled, sounding destroyed. But she said, “I don’t think I want to tell you. If you really want to know, it’s easy enough to look up. But I don’t think you should go to his funeral.” “Well that’s too bad because I am going, and if you were a good girlfriend like I thought you were, you would come with me!” Slouching forward, Shay set her elbows on her knees and placed her head in her hands. She remained so motionless Olivia wondered if maybe time was standing still. But then Shay breathed in really deeply. Her back went up and she said, “I don’t know if I can do that, Livi. I’m just not sure I could handle it.” “You’re not sure you can handle it?” Olivia shouted. She was standing over Shay with her arms at her sides, hands clasped into fists. “What about me? The first man I ever loved is dead and you’re worried about what? That his funeral might trigger some bad memories? Big surprise! Is there anything in life that isn’t triggering for you?” Shay shifted out of her chair without answering Olivia’s question. She grabbed her jacket and jingled the keys in her pocket. Without looking Olivia in the eye, she quietly said, “Sorry, but I need some space. I’ll be staying at my place tonight.” Olivia froze. She couldn’t believe her girlfriend would abandon her in her time of need. What a lousy way to treat someone who was grieving! “Fine!” Olivia snapped. “Leave! See if I care!” “I’ll call you later to see how you’re feeling,” Shay offered. “Do whatever you want.” Shay opened the door, but instead of walking straight out into the hallway, she turned around and stared at Olivia’s feet. “I’m sorry for your loss.” “No you’re not!” Slouching her shoulders, Shay left the apartment. Olivia should have thanked her for the pizza, but too late now. She locked the door and turned on the TV and ate another three slices while she stared at the screen. After that, she went back to the closet. She’d been so excited about it cleaning out before Shay came over. Some of the stuff at the back had gone undisturbed for years. In fact, there was a funny old purse in there—no, not a purse, like a quilting bag or something—that Mr. Davies had given her. It used to belong to his wife. He gave it to Olivia, thought she might like it. And she did, or else she would have thrown it away. Sort of strange to keep something that belonged to your ex’s wife. Your late ex, now. She still couldn’t believe he was gone. How was that even possible? What did he die of? See, this is why she needed to go to the funeral. This is what Shay didn’t understand. She would never truly believe he was gone until she saw his body in a casket. The quilting bag was cute and funky, something an old lady would have made but a young woman could use as a purse if she had Olivia’s quirky fun fashion sense. There it was at the back of the closet, just where she’d left it so many years ago. Felt like another lifetime. And, in a way, it was. Before she met Shay, that’s for sure. Olivia grabbed the bag and pulled it out, set it on the bed. Oh, weird, there was a little beige moth crawling up the handle. She pinched it between her fingers, and it left a powdery residue on her skin. She brushed it off and opened the bag to see what she’d stored inside. Something blue. A sweater. A wool sweater, the one Mr. Davies used to wear to class all the time. It was his favourite, and her favourite on him. He looked so good in it, with a pale blue shirt underneath. Did he even realize he’d left it here? Probably not, or he would have asked for it back. That’s why she’d hid it all those years ago. She wanted to keep it for herself. She pulled the blue sweater out of the bag to get a good look at it. That sweater paired with grey trousers and, ahhh, he looked so teacherly and smart. The glasses helped, too. She loved his glasses, even though they were nothing special. She loved everything about the way he looked. But wait... was that a hole? Yes, yes it was. And not just one. Little holes, little holes, little holes. It’s not like you could see right through the garment or anything, but if you looked closely you could definitely see tiny perforations in the fabric. She shook it out and a cloud of smoke rose from the sweater. No, wait, that wasn’t smoke. It wasn’t grey. It was creamy beige and palpitating! Wings, wings! Flying things! It was starting to make sense now: those holes were moth holes. Mr. Davies’s sweater was being eaten alive by moths! The moths shrouded Olivia in their creamy beigeness. Were they landing in her hair? What was happening? Shouldn’t they be like bears, more afraid of you than you are of them? But these moths, they seemed to want to settle on her head. She could see them descending upon her. She could feel their dusty wings kissing her cheeks as they rushed around her face. This was too much. Too much to handle. She shook her head side to side, and then raced from her bedroom, ran for the shower. She closed the bathroom door behind her and turned on the water, hot as she could handle. Once she’d stripped off her clothes, she jumped under the needling assault. The only thing she brought with her was Mr. Davies’s sweater.