Looking Everywhere But The Grave

Eight years after my death, Donovan Blackwood ran into our son, Toby, selling handmade crafts in the cold November rain of Seattle's Pike Place Market.

In the incessant drizzle, our son's small face was pale, damp, and cold, his hands chapped raw by the biting wind.

Fury surged through him. He yanked Toby closer, brushing the clinging rain from his worn-out coat.

"Where is your mother? How could she leave you out here alone in this god-awful weather while she’s off living it up? I've never seen such an irresponsible mother!"

Toby, having no memory of this man, replied timidly, "My mom's not here anymore... Sir, would you like to buy a craft? I can give you a discount."

Blinded by rage, the deeper meaning of his son's words completely escaped him. He let out a harsh, furious laugh.

"What, is she still holding a grudge? Is she deliberately tormenting our son to get back at me? Fine. You don't have to call her your mother anymore! Come with me. I'm taking you home!"

Toby struggled to pull away. "I don't know you, and you can't talk about my mom like that! If you touch me again, I'll scream for help!"

Donovan lost control and roared, "I am your father! Your biological father!"

"Is this how Hazel raised you? To not even recognize your own father? How long is she going to hold this grudge? Does she plan on taking it to her grave?"

My soul drifted nearby. I reached out, trying to push my son away, but my hand passed straight through his small body.

A bitter smile touched my lips.

Donovan, I'm not holding a grudge against you.

I'm just... already dead.

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1

Terrified of the man looming over him, Toby burst into tears.

But Donovan's rage didn't cool, his tirade only growing more intense.

"Look at this coat you're wearing! This thing probably cost fifty bucks, tops. It's freezing, and this is what she lets you wear outside?"

"What kind of mother is Hazel? After she's treated you like this, you're still defending her?"

Toby raised a trembling, frozen hand to wipe his tears, but Donovan's hand shot out and seized his wrist.

He roughly rolled up the sleeve.

"How did your hands get this raw? Where the hell is Hazel?"

"When we divorced, she fought tooth and nail for your custody, and this is how she raises you? What good is she? She might as well be dead for all the good she's doing you!"

My soul drifted between them as I tried desperately to explain.

It wasn't that I didn't want to take care of Toby; I was simply powerless.

The coat Toby was wearing was his best one, a hand-me-down from our neighbor Mrs. Gable's grandson.

But I could scream myself hoarse, and they wouldn't hear a word.

Crouching down, Donovan draped his own cashmere coat over our son's small shoulders and began to explain that he was his biological father.

It took Toby a long moment to process this news.

"So, Toby has a dad now? Does that mean I don't have to be outside anymore?"

Donovan nodded emphatically and took his son's hand to leave.

My neighbor, Mrs. Gable, had just finished a sale. When she turned and saw what was happening, she rushed over to stop them.

"Who are you? Are you trying to kidnap a child in broad daylight?"

"Let him go, or I'm calling the police!"

"Help! Someone's trying to snatch a child!"

Donovan's face darkened.

"This is my son!"

Mrs. Gable, fuming, planted her hands on her hips.

"So it's you! You're that bastard who cheated on his wife and abandoned his family! You have the nerve to come back!"

"Toby doesn't want you, so get lost!"

She tried to grab Toby, but Donovan's large frame blocked her completely.

"Is that what Hazel has been telling people about me?"

"She's let my son fall into this state; it's only right that I take him back!"

"Let's see who the police will side with when they arrive—you, a stranger, or me, his biological father!"

Hearing him speak about me like that, Mrs. Gable flared up.

"Hazel was nothing like what you're saying!"

"Then tell her to get her ass out here and confront me! How dare she even face me! My son's hands are nearly frozen solid, and she has the nerve to call herself a mother?"

"Hazel didn't neglect him, it's just that she's—"

Before she could finish, Donovan had already scooped up Toby and hurried into a black Tesla.

"It's just that she's already dead..."

Mrs. Gable sighed, watching his retreating figure.

"Hazel, this is all I can do to help you. Maybe this is just fate..."

Her eyes gradually reddened, and tears streamed down her face against her will.

I frantically reached to wipe her tears away, but my fingers passed straight through her cheeks, leaving me with nothing but a wry, hollow smile.

Right. Why do I keep forgetting I'm not even here?

I knew I had no right to blame her. She had already done more than enough for me by taking care of Toby for so long.

Maybe Mrs. Gable was right. This is fate.

With me gone, maybe it's not a bad thing for Toby to be taken away by Donovan.

At least, he won't have to suffer anymore...

But that woman in Donovan's house...