Free The Ghost in Love by Jonathan Carroll Page A

apartment, Ben had insisted she keep her key to the place. She used it now because no one answered her repeated knocking. It was the second time today she had been here but so much had happened in between visits. It felt as if a week had passed since she’d come by earlier to pick up the dog.
    Once inside, she went from room to room searching for Ben or Pilot or she didn’t know what. The word “clues” kept turning in her mind, but clues to what? Why Ben was invisible to Danielle Voyles?
    It was such a great apartment. With no one around to distract her, it felt as though for each step she took in there another good memory surfaced. Everything was so clean, tidy, and bright. Light loved living there. It filled each room like milk in a glass. In depressing contrast, German couldn’t drag light into her basement apartment even if she put a chain around its neck and pulled. She entered the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet over the sink. She looked at the familiar bottles and tubes in there. She had used so many of them. When she saw his cologne she touched it, remembering the time she came into the room as he was spraying it on his neck. She came up behind him, took his chin in one hand, and licked the side of his throat because he smelled so delicious.
    For obvious reasons, she saved looking in the bedroom till last.But a few moments after entering and seeing that it was empty, she heard the front door to the apartment slam shut. Ben was back!
    Hurrying down the hall to meet him, German stopped short when she saw instead an old man, a complete stranger, standing just inside the doorway holding a slack leash attached to Pilot. The man was looking around with his mouth open in dismay. Even from a distance it was easy to see that he was confused and disoriented.
    German approached cautiously. She was bigger than the man and undoubtedly stronger, judging by his age and appearance, but you never knew for certain. Seeing her, Pilot wagged his tail and padded over, pulling the leash out of the man’s unresisting hand. This brought the old guy’s attention back from wherever it was roaming and he focused on her for the first time.
    German asked, “Who are you? How did you get in here?”
    Slowly lowering his head, he looked at his hand, which was holding a brown key. He lifted it to show her, but German was only interested in watching his face. She could see he was trying to figure out how this had happened. His expression, a combination of consternation and surprise, said Why
am
I here?
    Then he rubbed his nose. It was a most singular gesture; she had only ever seen one other person do it that way. Putting an open hand against the end of his nose, he patted it a few times and then rubbed it. Patted and then rubbed. It was ridiculous looking, the kind of gesture that, if she had seen someone else doing it, she would have smiled or even laughed.
    Not now: now she froze. She barely managed to croak,
“Ben?”
    His hand stopped rubbing his nose. The old man’s eyes, clearing now, looked at her. They were kindly and embarrassed. “I’m sorry, but do we know each other?”
    â€œBen? Is it really you?”
    He looked at both arms as if checking to see if they were his. Then he smiled. “I think it’s me. But are we talking about the same Ben?” His smile was cute and old-person gentle. “I’m Ben Gould. I’m really very sorry, but I have to admit that I don’t remember you. Please don’t take offense, though. I have Alzheimer’s disease, or at least I think I do, and it’s really made my brain into Swiss cheese.”
    German didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know anything at that moment but the need to stare and deny. The old man continued looking and smiling at her but his eyes said No one’s home.
    Leash dragging behind, Pilot left the room unnoticed and walked toward the kitchen