The next morning, I consider downloading Presley’s songs in my phone while charging my two power banks, and a Bluetooth speaker. I go down stair to have my breakfast. I also pack my lunch. It’s Saturday. My mother is having a seminar in town. She’ll be back at night. Today is also Ma Jen’s day off.
“Are you fine staying alone today?” Ma Jen’s brows pinch together in worry. “Oh, I have somewhere to go Ma. I’ll be good.” She raises her brows. “Where to, and with whom?” Deja vu! It’s always like this when I go out. “Mountain climbing. With a friend.” I took a sip in my apple juice. She just nodded. “I’ll get going then.” She kisses me goodbye.

When I enter the garden, the first thing I see is the ghost guy. “Eh? Why are you sitting here?” He stands up and come to me. “I was excited to have a human friend so I waited for you.” He smiles ear to ear. I walk passed him – placing my things under an old pine tree at the right side of the garden, just five meters away from the entrance.
He follows me and sits on the grass under the tree. Without a word, I know – he has a discerning eyes. Our meeting now – spends with me teaching him how android phone works, and how to connect it to Bluetooth speaker. Good thing is that he can hold my phone himself.
At 12, I take out my lunch box. “Can you eat?” I ask him. “I don’t feel hungry” remarks him starring at my food. I start digging in though his expression says he wants to eat. I didn’t ask, I’m sure he has his reason.
“Who is this?” he showed me my graduation picture with Ma Jen’s son. “Oh, that’s Kenneth. He is my only friend.” He nods and continues looking at the pictures. “By the way, what is your name?” I ask. “That, I don’t know” sadly, he replied. So ghosts don’t remember their own name, and anything? I wanted to know more about him, but it’s my nature to not talk much.
For hours, all we do is listening to Presley’s songs, and I was busy answering his questions: how big my family is; who am I staying with; my hobbies, and whatnots. What I got in return was ‘nothing.’ He forgot everything about him when he was alive, and even how he died. Poor ghost! It is – as if he is having an amnesia.
Before returning home, I told him about my parents sending me to a boarding school. He smiles, but I know he isn’t happy. He won’t have a friend when I’m gone. Only I can see and talk to him. “Why won’t you come with me? I’ll bring you home.” I was smiling to lift his mood. He touches my head. “I can’t leave this place. There’s no door for a ghost like me out of here.” We stare in each other’s eyes as if we are talking. I know that he knew I wanted to ask why. “Just go home, it’s getting dark.” He is smiling. “Oh! Tomorrow is Sunday. I probably will not come. I will go to church with my mother, and visit my grandmother. We’ll be back at night” I state. He nods as he understands.

After the Sunday service, we go to my grandmother’s house. She’s old, and my mother always asks her to come and live with us. She just really won’t come, so we come to visit her every weekend. Good thing is that she can still take care of herself. Just that – sometimes she talks nonsense.
I hug my grandma as I enter her house. Talking about cleanliness, her house is really well-maintained. My mother heads to the kitchen as soon as she greets grandma. Grandma then followed her and the two prepare the lunch.
I went to my grandma’s flower garden. There was a round, wooden table surrounded by four wooden chairs under, in between the two mango trees. I sat on the chair and take my sketchbook and color pencils. I am really good at drawing. It was just a hobby at first, but since I will be studying in a city – I will take Architecture, like what my mother enrolled me for.
I am drawing the garden in the forest and so does the ghost guy when I first saw him. It’s funny how I freaked out when I first realized he is a ghost. “Eh? What could be the reason of my baby’s sweet smile?” My grandma was teasing me. I didn’t realize that I was smiling while looking at my drawing. “Nothing Gram (I call my grandma ‘Gram’). Just drawing.” Grandma sits beside me. “Let me see.” I give her my sketchbook.
She looks at everything I drew. “You are just like your Grap (my grandfather)” commented her in delight. Her expression changes, and she glances at me before looking back at the last drawing. “Where have you seen this?” I was silent. I wanted to tell her about the garden in the forest. Somehow I know – she will ask me about the guy, and I can’t tell him about him. “Is this in a forest?” I was surprised, and all I do is nod. She smiles, and doesn’t ask for more.
My mother calls us for lunch. My grandma stands up and asks me to eat. I sigh in relief. Luckily, she didn’t ask about the guy I drew. I don’t want to lie to her. I mean it’s not that I can’t lie. Just – Gram knows it when I lie.
We eat and talk about my...