If you sit long enough in silence, you can hear it, he said. Listen. It’s a ghost from the past. Our past. Somebody we let slip through our fingers when we were younger, she nodded. You remember? That one kid long ago in grade school. The one nobody talked to.

Yes, she said. I remember. We used to torment that poor kid. made him cry every day.

His name was Steve, but we called him Bucky ’cause of his front teeth. They stuck out. looked like a cartoon character.

Yeah. Well, he’s haunting us now. I hear him all the time. He’s laughing at us. He’s laughing at all our faults. All the problems in our lives. Divorces, DUIs, our lousy jobs, bad choices we’ve made. He’s having the last word. He has not forgiven us.

No. That kid has not. never will.

He didn’t have to go and kill himself. We were only having fun, lit a cigarette. He used to walk in a strange way, too. Walked like a girl. Talked like a girl, too.

Said they found him in his room hanging from the ceiling. A rope wrapped around his neck. Garbage bag over his face.

That’s a shame.

Yeah. Listen. You hear him?