The day was winding down, but the ocean remained rough. Things on Emilee and Jesse's island finally started to calm. The lighthouse's beacon glowed.
The couple led Tracey to his room for the next few nights. Sure enough, it belonged to their son. Jesse had to run back down to relight the lantern and check on the lighthouse, so he left Emilee with Tracey.
Everything remained in their son's room. The upper walls were painted green, and the lower walls were black. The king-sized bed's bedspread was the same color as the walls, with some white in it as well as the pillows. A few basketball tees hung from pins over the bed's head. To its right stood a black dresser with a lamp and a digital clock. Finally, a large window with green, white, and black curtains concluded the room's charm.
Tracey sat on the bed and said, "Wow," while looking around the room. "This is a stylish room."
"Thanks," Emilee, who stood in the doorway, spoke. "Jesse and I kept it this way as a reminder of our son. He really liked the color green—a color you seem to share with him."
Tracey glanced at her and nervously bit his lip. "How long has it been since he died?"
"Twenty years," Emilee softly answered, lowering her head. "He died after a sailing accident. That kid loved to sail. It was like a second mother to him. Jesse and I were able to visit him in the ICU one last time before he passed. He had such a devastating brain injury—he lost so much blood. He was getting ready to head off to college, too."
"Oh," Tracey spoke. "I'm sorry."
Emilee feebly smiled. "It's okay. Jesse and I are doing fine. There are times when I remember what it was like to be a parent. It was the best eighteen years of my life. Sky died when he was about your age. That's why you remind me so much of him. Well, um, it seems I have rambled. I normally don't like to talk about Sky's death around other people. You're different, though, Tracey. I like talking to you." Emilee lifted her hand and rubbed tears from her eyes. "Do you have any nightclothes?"
Tracey peered down at his shirt and shook his head.
"Would you like me to wash that for you?" Emilee continued. "I can give you a pair of Sky's nightclothes. The two of you seem about the same size. Hiro, do you want to come in and keep him company until I return?"
Hiro had appeared beside Emilee in the doorway, his toy back in his mouth. He nodded and trotted into the room, plopping down beside the bed.
Emilee brought her hand to her mouth and chuckled. "That dog already loves you, young man. All right, I'll be back soon. Please, make yourself comfortable."
"Thank you so much," Tracey calmly spoke.
Emilee backed into the hallway and waved. Turning on her heel, she sauntered down it and left Tracey and Hiro behind.
Tracey hopped off the bed, and Hiro watched as he started to investigate. He reached for the basketball tank tops with his good hand. Jesse had wrapped his injured arm in a bandage and put it in a sling. Tracey ignored his injury, though, and continued his investigation. His eyes caught a picture sitting on one of the dressers. Curious, Tracey approached it and leaned close. The photo showed a smiling, blonde-haired, young man at his high school graduation. Jesse and Emilee stood on either side of him, grinning into the camera. They looked like such a wonderful family. It was devastating that the son died.
Around 11:00 that night, Tracey and Hiro slept silently. Tracey dreamt of ninjustu, Hiro of bones. Tracey slept on his back, his good arm over his head and his bad one resting on the bed's cover. His head was tilted to the right. Hiro slept with his head resting on his paws at the foot of the bed.
Without them noticing, the door to Sky's room opened by itself. A green orb slipped in and headed toward the bathroom. It disappeared inside, and the door slammed shut.
Tracey shuffled in his sleep, but didn't wake.
From inside the bathroom, the toilet flushed, and the sink was turned on. After a minute or two, the bathtub turned on as well.
The bathtub woke Tracey.
"What the heck?" he asked in a sleepy voice, sitting. He ran his fingers through his hair, and his eyes landed on the closed bathroom door. "Oh, my gosh." Last he checked, that door was open.
Tracey was almost too scared to check it out, but something inside forced him. He felt that something important awaited him in the bathroom.
Tracey gently pulled the bed's covers off, so he wouldn't wake Hiro, and grabbed his ninja star off one of the dressers. "Who's here? I have a weapon. If you're a ghost, I guess I can't really slice you, but if you're a person, I'd watch out." He tiptoed to the door and put his star between his teeth, grabbing the knob. Tracey threw it open and peered inside the bathroom. It was empty and much colder than Sky's room.
Tracey carefully shuffled to the running sink and put his star between his teeth again. Sure enough, nothing except a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste surrounded it.
Tracey next headed to the bathtub and shut it off as well. He didn't understand what was going on. After he turned off the bathtub, he heard something at the sink and glanced at it. He leaped out of his skin when he saw a bag sitting on it.
Tracey jumped so high that he tripped over the bathtub rim and fell into it. His head barely missed the wall. In a nervous voice, he asked, "I-Is that you, Sky? Listen, if you don't want me in your room, I'll leave." He reached for his star that fell when he toppled over, but then his skin prickled. A blast of cold air rushed by him, and his shuriken lifted into the air. "What the—?" Tracey asked. How on Earth was his shuriken floating? It floated out of the bathtub and headed toward the sink, where the bag sat.
Tracey couldn't believe what he was seeing. Even though it was probably a bad idea, he followed his shuriken.
The spirit dropped it into the sink and picked up the bag.
Tracey leaped back again. What was the spirit doing with the bag?
It took it up to the ceiling and opened it.
Tracey really wished he had a sound box. Then he'd be able to understand the spirit better.
It turned the bag over, and gold dust escaped. The dust rained down and landed on Tracey.
"Ho-Hold on a second," he stuttered. "I-Is this fa-fairy dust?" It turned out the dust was fairy dust. Where the heck did it come from?
Tracey was outlined by magic and examined his hands.
The dust kept raining down. It then changed course and flew to Tracey's back.
He peeped over his shoulder and watched it.
The dust twirled in a circle. With his very eyes, Tracey saw it work its magic. The dust created gold, dusty wings that gently flapped behind him.
"Wings," Tracey spoke in a choked voice. A rush of cold air passed through his hand, and he gasped when he felt something take it. Within seconds, his feet lifted off the ground, and he flew toward the ceiling. The dusty wings vanished from his back.
"Ahh!" shouted Tracey. "Help! The ghost is trying to kill me!"
The ghost opened the window to the bathroom and pulled him outside. It escorted him to the beach and dropped him.
Tracey screamed as he flipped toward the ocean. "Okay! Okay! I'll leave your island! Please! Spare me!"
The ghost wasn't trying to kill him, though. He grabbed Tracey again before he hit the water and pulled him across the ocean's surface.
Tracey soon realized what the spirit was doing and began to calm down. "I don't understand. Why are you helping me?" He received no answer. The spirit merely wanted to play with him. That was all he did for the next hour. He took Tracey for a fun, ghostly flight across the ocean and island. When Tracey got tired, he escorted him back to Emilee and Jesse's house.
The spirit pulled him through the open window and dropped him beside the sink.
Tracey landed and whispered, "Wow. Thank you. Could you make yourself visible by any chance? It's just—it feels strange speaking to air. You can trust me. I'm very nice." He looked around the room for the spirit, but again, nothing showed itself. "No?" asked Tracey. "All right. I understand. If you want me out of this house, I'll sail away in the morning. I have to go to the Bermuda Triangle anyway." Just like that, he turned and exited the bathroom back into Sky's room.
On the bed, Hiro's ears twitched, and he lifted his head. Glancing into the bathroom, he growled and barked.
"Hiro!" Tracey yelped, bringing his finger to his lips. "Shh! What's the matter with you?"
Hiro continued to bark.
Finally, Tracey glanced back at the bathroom, and his golden brown eyes widened. Hovering in the doorway was the shadowy figure of a young man. He looked to be around Tracey's age. His hair was long—some of it hovered over his right eye—and he was dressed in a hoodie with a high collar, a belt, long pants, and boots.
Tracey froze. The ghost proved that spirits, demons, etc., were real. A wave of fear washed over Tracey, and he shivered.
The spirit soon floated to him and landed a few feet away. He cautiously examined Tracey from head to toe.
Tracey shivered like crazy. "Who-Who are you? Wha-What are you?"
It didn't look like the spirit could talk. He answered by pulling a few shadows off him and turning them into letters.
When he saw him doing that, Hiro stopped barking and stared.
Tracey remained frozen in his spot.
The spirit spelled out two sentences with the shadows and showed them to Tracey.
They read: Please do not fear me—I won't hurt you. I am Sky.
Right after that, a blast of air sprinted through Tracey, and he closed his eyes. Sinking to his knees, he fell unconscious on the floor on his back.
Sky floated close to him, and a friendly smile washed across his face.