Oh, no.
I blinked rapidly, frantically looking around.
No, no, nononono!
Nothing else flickered, though, or split in two. There was only one cabin. Only one railing. Only one hand I held in front of my face.
Only one barely visible man.
“I—sorry,”he gasped, like he’d used his final breath to do so, before he disappeared entirely.
And I was left alone, alive, and so, so confused.
What the actual fuck just happened?
Iwas dazed for the rest of the afternoon.
The helicopter arrived on schedule, landing on the gravel pad halfway between the tower and the tree line.
The two pilots probably thought I was an asshole, or experiencing some sort of mental break over how far I really was from civilization, because I barely said a word to them.
I stared at the first pilot as she hopped out and greeted me, waiting for her to… I don’t know, act like I wasn’t really there? Run over to where a body I couldn’t see sprawled on the rocks beneath the tower? Scream and run? Whisper,“I see dead people,”maybe?
I’d really prefer to know as soon as possible if I’m actually dead, rather than haunt my loved ones like some chump.
Thankfully, she didn’t do any of that, but she did shoot weird looks my way for the rest of their visit, when instead of greetingher with something normal like “Hello,”or“Thank you for helping me,”I said, “Oh, thank God, you can see me.”
In hindsight, that would probably just fuel the rumors that weird shit happened at Dead Man’s Lookout.
Weird shit does happen here, though, clearly.
I’d only been there for an hour at most, and I’d already seen a… Well, I wasn’t sure what to call it. Call him?
A man who could mysteriously disappear, I went with.
Admitting I saw a ghost was a step too far right now,especially given that I’d nearly become adisappearing manmyself.
Fantastic.
A slightly crazed chuckle bubbled out at my own thoughts. The pilot side-eyed me again.
Even though I was a little unhinged, they helped me carry the heaviest of my boxes up to the tower. Together, we checked that the propane in the utility shed functioned properly and the fridge, freezer, and outlets up in the lookout had electricity.
Lastly, we unloaded a good amount of firewood, which they’d hauled in using a mesh sling attached to the helicopter via a rope, for the wood stove—the only heat source in the cabin.
I thanked them and waved goodbye as they flew off.
Maybe I shouldn’t have let them go without me after what I’d just experienced, but honestly, the thought of explaining what’d happened was just as terrifying as the event itself.
As I climbed the stairs back up to the lookout, practically hugging the cabin to stay as far away from the railing as possible, I remembered Dad’s words from the other night.
Anything out of the ordinary, and you call me.
Was being nearly scared to death by a ghost, followed by being rescued by that ghost, considered out of the ordinary?
Are ghosts real?I asked, typing the question into the web search bar on my laptop later that evening.
The load time was only a few seconds longer than it would’ve been at home, so the signal booster and cell phone hotspot I set up that afternoon must’ve worked.
