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Sometimes in his dreams, Alfred is talking to someone he’s never met. He can’t quite remember his face when he wakes up, but he can still perfectly recall the warmth of his voice and almost purple blue of his eyes. On really good days he can remember the shape of his lips and the tilt of his smile.
On those days, his room always smells like pancakes. It’s not a weak smell like the scent of breakfast coming from downstairs when his mom cooks in the morning. It’s strong and all around him and he can practically taste the syrup.
His parents think he’s being silly, and he doesn’t pay it much mind at first either.
It’s the summer of ‘63 and Alfred is 16.
He’s got his own record player, and he’s trying to teach himself to play guitar. Sometimes when he’s alone and the house is quiet, he sees a boy about his age. From his dreams he remembers the soft smile and the gentle eyes. Normally, Alfred would be terrified. It’s easy to see this boy is a ghost.
But it’s also just as easy to see that this boy is harmless and really lonely.
“We can be friends,” he tells the boy one hot Monday afternoon when his parents are at work. He’d glimpsed him at the edge of his vision. “I’m Alfred."
The boy isn’t there when he looks again, and Alfred sighs. He would make friends with this melancholic ghost if he could. The boy appears to be about his age and so very sad that it makes his heart ache for him. As frightened as Alfred is of ghosts, his empathy wins out.
That night in his dream is the first time that Alfred remembers their conversation.
"I’m Matthew,” the boy tells him in a quiet shy voice. “It’s nice to meet you."
So their friendship begins.
—
It takes a while before Matthew can tell Alfred what happened to him. It’s a sad rather violent story- a father with a drinking problem and a mother who is trapped in an abusive relationship. It’s a slow boil of bad feelings until one day his father comes home with a Colt pistol drunkenly sure his wife had been having an affair.
"The last thing I remember,” Matthew tells him. “Is my father calling me a bastard child before…"
"Oh Mattie, that’s terrible,” Alfred says and holds his hand. In his dreams, Matthew is so real and whole that he can’t believe that he’s dead.
But Matthew smiles. “It’s alright. It’s been a while now. I try not to think about it much."
Soon after, Alfred starts seeing Matthew more in his waking hours too. He only sees him at home and usually only when he’s alone in the house, but Matthew’s real and looks as solid as he is in dreams.
"I wonder why?” Alfred says when he brings it up. “You’re so real now."
"I think it’s because you believe,” Matthew says after a while. “The more you believe in something the realer it gets. Only the people with a lot of belief ever see me."
Alfred considers this. "Maybe you’re right. I do care about you a lot too. Ya think that helps?"
Matthew says that maybe it does, but something about the conversation depresses him.
Alfred drops it.
—
Alfred has a quite a lot of records, but his new favorite is "Don’t you think it’s Time” by Mike Berry. It’s upbeat and all about love. When he listens to it, he thinks about Matthew and his shy smile and his golden hair. He sings it out loud in his room sometimes, and Matthew sits on his bed and laughs at him.
When he’s awake, Alfred can’t touch Matthew very much, though he tries. He sings to Matt about love and kissing, and he pantomimes playing his guitar. When he finishes, he falls out on his bed next to him.
“I really wish I could dance with you Matthew,” he tells him, and he tries to take his hand like he does in his dreams. He passes through him and watches the image of him smear like wet paint. Sometimes Matthew can get himself solid enough for touching, but it’s not often.
Alfred is hopelessly in love with Matthew, and they both know it. Alfred is pretty sure that Matthew feels the same, but the other won’t say it.
“It’s not really a good song for me. I’m more like the other song on the record.” Matthew’s smile is a little sad.
The other song is a sad piece called 'Loneliness.'
“I could treat someone good, with everything a lover could,” Matthew sings to him sometimes in his dreams. Then he shakes his head. “But I can’t Alfred. That’s why you need to go find someone in real life, someone alive."
"I don’t want them. I want you."
Sometimes in his dreams they kiss, and Alfred wakes up so radiantly happy he can’t stand it.
—
Near the end of the summer, his parents tell him they’re going to move. His father has a new job in the state over, and it’s better pay with benefits. Alfred is inconsolable and throws such a huge fuss his parents worry about him.
"Do you think you could come too Matthew?” Alfred whispers to him in the dark.
After a long silence, Matthew answers back just as quietly. “I’ve tried to leave before and it’s never worked."
Alfred knows he can’t leave Matthew alone, not for anything.
—
They never say the word die when they plan. They talk around it.
"What about the pond out back? Make it look like I got dragged under and couldn’t get back up."
"What if you get trapped haunting the pond though? I mean I can go a little ways out of the house and into the yard but what if we have a really small range where we can both go?"
Alfred sighs.
"So it has to be in the house then. I mean, that’s the cleanest way ya know, but I can’t do it in the tub."
They’re quiet for a long time.
"Maybe we could, Alfred. If you told your mom that you were feeling bad,” he says after a while. “We could make it look like you took too much medicine and fell asleep in the bathtub."
"Yeah…” Alfred says. “That could work. But what if I don’t fall asleep deep enough and I wake up when my head goes under?"
Matthew watches him for a long moment. "I could save up my energy,” he says finally. “And hold you under if I have to."
—
It’s mid afternoon, and Alfred has his record player set up near the bathroom. It’s playing his song, and he’s taken enough medicine to make himself drowsy. He’s in the tub with the water up to his chin.
"I’m a little scared,” Alfred says as he starts to doze in and out.
Matthew is there, just a wisp of smoke. He’s trying to conserve his energy. “I don’t want you to die,” he says after a long moment.
“I’m not,” Alfred says softly. “I’m just coming to be with you.” He smiles drowsily and sings with the music playing. “Don’t you think it’s time~ Time to hold you so tight~” He laughs softly. It’s a quiet sound because Alfred is losing consciousness.
Matthew watches as his eyes close and his head slips below the water. For the first few moments it’s fine, but when Alfred struggles a bit in the water- it’s sleepy and reflexive and Matthew can tell he’s not really awake- Matthew has to lean forward and gently hold him down.
It’s over in a few moments, and the music keeps playing.
—
Alfred is sixteen, and it’s still the summer of '63 to him. It always will be. People come into the house and people go, but he and Matthew stay there together in a perpetual summer of love. They’re real enough to each other, and they touch and kiss and dance.
No one ever sees the boys- they’re careful about that. Neither of them want to cause any trouble. Well, mostly. Throughout the decades, some people move in that Alfred just can’t stand, and he plays mean jokes on them.
Still no one ever sees them, and they keep to each other’s company.
But sometimes, when they forget themselves, the occupants of the house can swear they hear old 60s music playing somewhere in the house but they can never find the source.