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even hear me filled me with elation. There’d be no grief then!
    I groaned with sudden dismay. A mist was gathering again, obscuring my view of Ann. I tried to run but my movements grew increasingly labored. I have to reach her! I thought. “Ann, wait!” I called. “Don’t leave me!”
    You have to move on, it seemed as though I heard a voice say in my mind. I wouldn’t listen to it, kept on moving, slower, slower, once more on the bottom of that murky lake. Awareness started failing. Please! I thought. There must be some way Ann can see me and be comforted to know I still exist!
    My presence is invalid
    I WAS WALKING up the hill to our house. On each side of the driveway, pepper trees were stirring in the wind. I tried to smell them but I couldn’t. Overhead, the sky was overcast. It’s going to rain, I thought. I wondered why I was there.
    The front door was no more solid to me than air as I went inside. I knew, then, why I’d come.
    Ann, Richard and Perry were sitting in the living room. Ian must be in school, I thought, Marie in Pasadena at the Academy.

Unknown
    Ginger was lying at Ann’s feet. As I stepped into the living room, she lifted her head abruptly and stared at me, ears drawn back. No sound this time. Perry, who was sitting on the sofa next to Richard, turned and looked at me. “He’s back,” he said.
    Ann and Richard looked automatically in my direction but I knew they couldn’t see me. “Does he took the same?” Richard asked anxiously.
    “Just as he did in the cemetery,” Perry answered. “He’s wearing the outfit he had on the night of the accident, isn’t he?”
    Richard nodded. “Yes.” He looked at Ann; my gaze was fixed on her. “Mom?” he said. “Will you—?”
    She cut him off. “No, Richard,” she said quietly but firmly.
    “But Dad was dressed like that the night of the accident,” Richard insisted. “How could Perry know that if he—?”
    “We know it, Richard,” Ann interrupted again.
    “I’m not getting it from you, Mrs. Nielsen, take my word for it,” Perry told her. “Your husband is standing right over there. Look at your dog. She sees him.”
    Ann looked at Ginger and shivered. “I don’t know that,” she murmured.
    I had to make her see. “Ginger?” I said. Always, when I’d spoken her name, her tail would thump at the floor. Now she only cringed, eyes fixed on me.
    I started across the room toward her. “Ginger, come on,” I said. “You know me.”
    “He’s walking toward you, Mrs. Nielsen,” Perry said.
    “Would you please—?” she started, then broke off, startled, as Ginger lurched to her feet and ran from the room.
    “She’s afraid of him,” Perry explained. “She doesn’t understand what’s happening, you see.”
    “Mom?” Richard said when she remained silent. How well I knew that stubborn silence. I felt compelled to smile despite her lack of inclination to believe in my presence.
    “He’s smiling at you,” Perry said. “He seems to understand your inability to believe he’s here.”
    Ann’s expression grew strained again. “I’m sure it’s obvious to you that I’d like to believe it,” she said. “I just can’t—” Breaking off, she drew in breath with effort. “You … really see him?” she asked.
    “Yes, Ann, yes, he does,” I said.
    “He just said Yes, Ann, Yes,” Perry told her. “I can see him; just as I described him in the cemetery. Naturally, he doesn’t look as solid as we do. But he’s very real. I’m not getting information from your mind. I can’t even do that.”
    Ann pressed the palm of her left hand to her eyes. “I wish I could believe,” she said, miserably.
    “Try, Mom,” Richard said.
    “Ann, please?” I said.
    “I know it’s hard to accept,” Perry said. “I’ve lived with it all my life so I take it for granted. I could see disincarnates when I was a baby.”
    I looked at him with sudden distaste. Disincarnates? The word made me sound like a freak.
    “I’m