Page 121 of Prometheus Burning

I’d asked him the same damn thing when the roles had been reversed.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Sorry… just… someone I know asked me that very question. I just… found it funny hearing it from you. Anyway, no kids. Married once… and divorced. Let me guess, you never married and no kids, right?” I grinned through my cleverness.

He opened one eye, as if inspecting me once again. “Good guess. Guess my bachelor lifestyle gave that away, huh?”

Then, he shut his eye and cupped his hands behind his head, cradling his head. My mind played a cruel trick on me, reminding me of all the times Jamie’s spirit had cradled me in his arms. All the times he’d held me in such a short amount of time, comforting me and loving me in ways I’d never known.

Could I find that person again in the man who sat in front of me? Because right now, they sure as hell seemed different.

“Don’t ask me how,” he said, eyes still shut, “but even with my eyes closed, I can feel you looking at me a certain way.”

“A certain way? Like what kind of way?” I hoped that maybe my questioning would jog something in his memory. Remind him of what had transpired between us and bring my Jamie back to me.

“I don’t know.” His words sounded especially tired now. “Like you know me more than I think you know me. God… what the fuck did I smoke?” He took a fist and pressed it against his forehead, lines forming above his brow as he scrunched up his face in discomfort. “Are you real? Or am I hallucinating again?”

“Again?” I asked. “It’s not the drugs, Jamie.”

I tapped my foot over top of his, and he acknowledged me, as if this was all the proof he needed.

He continued. “If you must know, since you’re really here this time. Or I think you’re here, anyway. I have a bad habit of getting stoned off my ass and seeing you here with me.”

“Funny, you failed to mention that to me,” I said, accidentally slipping once again. Spirit Jamie hadn’t mentioned smoking pot, letting alone seeing me. However, the idea that Jamie had been seeing me before he passed, even if he was high as fuck, sent copious amounts of joy into my heart.

“When would I have told you that?” he asked, opening his eyes now. “The most I ever touched was alcohol back when you knew me.”

“Oh, well, you know—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he interrupted, waving a hand in the air. He studied me now. “You look good, by the way. Sorry I didn’t say that before. I guess life’s been treating you well.”

I smirked. “No, it really hasn’t.”

“Oh?”

“I, uh, had a lot of issues I needed to work through, Jamie. I still have issues. But it’s okay now. Because I’ve come to a place where I know I want to move forward.”

“You don’t look like you have any issues to me.”

“Well, looks can be deceiving.” I shrugged. “I’m okay though, like I said. And… here’s the thing… you could be okay, too.”

His eyes gleamed like glassy volcanic rock, blue eyes boring into mine. I didn’t need to read his mind to know what he was thinking.

“Who says I’m not okay?” he asked, saying the words I expected him to say.

“You’re not okay, Jamie,” I said. “But you could be.”

He bit his lips, and I could see the wheels in his head turning as he mulled over what I’d just said. However, instead of a response, he clasped his hands together, tensed his shoulders, released, and stood.

“Want something to drink?” he asked, heading toward his kitchen which I could see over the ledge leading into the living area where I sat. “A beer or something?”

As tempted as I was, out of force of habit, I shook my head. I needed to have a clear head for this conversation.

“I’m okay,” I said. “Thanks though.”

He stepped toward the fridge, anyway. I looked down at my hands, took in a deep breath. Listened as he rustled around in the kitchen, popping a bottle cap. Then, a second. When he returned, he stepped toward me with two opened beer glasses in the shape of those old-fashioned cokes.

The jitters returned as his body neared mine, like a magnetic pull begging us to join together. If Jamie felt it, too, he showed no outwardly physical signs.

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