Knock, knock, knock.
Early Saturday morning, Someone tapped at my front door. I got out of bed and went to answer it. It was Micah.
"Good morning. What are you doing out and about so early today?" I asked her.
"I was wondering if I could talk to Baby about what we saw last night."
"Oh, do you mean the ghost girl that only you saw?"
"Yes, I'm feeling very anxious, I want to figure it out...This strange phenomenon that is."
"I called out to Baby, and she came downstairs in her dog form, which she used while in the house.
"Hello, Micah, so that we may talk more freely, let's walk outside. I have a little tree in the backyard, just around the corner, where I enjoy sitting. You're more than welcome, if you want to accompany me there."
Micah nodded, " As long as we have a private place to talk, I'm sure it'll be fine."
We sat beneath the trees. It was an essentially round, short oak tree; its curve was almost like sitting in a chair. Once everyone else was out of sight, Baby took her human form.
"So, what is it that you need from us?" Asked Baby.
"Yesterday, we encountered something very peculiar," Micah began. "I saw a petite young girl ghost as we were heading out of work to toss out the garbage in the back alleyway. But the other Waymakers couldn’t see her, not even with their Seer powers. I don’t understand why.”
“That’s rare,” Baby said. “But occasionally, spirits choose who they appear to. She may have chosen you for a reason—maybe she needs your help for some reason and does not wish to be seen by others."
“I know, I teased Micah a little last night,” I admitted. “But I could tell something was off when we stepped outside.”
“She may be someone from your past,” Baby continued. “Someone you crossed paths with—even briefly—before she passed. Maybe a former customer or one of the staff members at the café?”
"You know... I never really thought about that,” Micah said slowly. I think I saw her somewhere before, at the cafe.
I’ll go back and ask the staff. My uncle, who’s the owner, has been working there longer than I or anyone else has—I only started two years ago. Maybe he knows something.”
“I’ll come with you,” I said. “Let’s head in early. But first, let’s grab Beck from her house."
When we arrived at Beck’s house, she was still asleep. Her hair was a mess, and she was still in her nightgown when she opened the door.
“Hey, Beck,” I said. “We’re heading to work early to investigate the ghost girl. Want to come with us? We can wait here while you get ready, if you like.”
"Yeah, that's fine. Could you give me a minute? I need to change and get ready—I'll make it fast."
When we arrived at the cafe, one of the shelving units in the back room had fallen over, and the staff was cleaning it up. Micah's uncle was chipping in to help, trying to get it done a little faster.
"Hello, good morning, Uncle," Micah said. Things seem to be quite hectic, and you seem to have your hands full this early in the morning."
"Yes," He sighed. "We are behind schedule to start this morning because of cleaning up this mess. We still have to bake and set things up before we open.”
"Don't worry. Kaysi, Beck, and I can help you finish some of that stuff since we're here early. Where do you need us first?"
"By the way," He asked. "Why are you all here so early?"
“I wanted to ask you a few questions. I know now’s not the best time, so I’ll talk to you after our shift.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “Just finish the cleaning first. The team will handle the baking.”
"Man, this is one heck of a day to wake up on the wrong side of the bed," Beck said, sighing.
"I'm sorry we dragged you out of bed,” I said. “We wanted to get answers. But hey, at least this way we’re earning extra hours.” I laughed.
"Yeah, that's true, you're right about that." Becky managed a tired smile.
As the day progressed, it became slow and chaotic. During our busy time, Beck tried jumping in to help. But she ended up dropping the tray of drinks on the ground, spilling them everywhere. I can't say that was anything unusual; Beck was always clumsy anyway.
Things kept going downhill. One of the servers forgot to push in a chair, and a regular, and they fell to the floor. It was one of those days you just wanted to end. I couldn't wait for the day to be over. It was such a headache.
When the last customer finally left, Beck trudged over to lock the door, drained and sore. I could see all the mental and physical stress weighing her down.
“I never imagined this job would be this tough,” she sighed. “It’s only the second day, and nothing seems to be going right. I'm glad Micah's here—she picked up the slack. Most of the time, it seemed like both of us were holding you guys down. I felt terrible about spilling those drinks.” Beck vented.
"At least the cup didn't hit or spill on one of the customers," Micah snickered.
Just then, one of the girls screamed outside. We rushed to see what the situation was.
It was one of Micah's cousins. Her eyes were wide with fright, and her face was pale. We had to stay a little later, so she had been trying to assist us with some of the store's closing tasks. She hauled the garbage out to the back alley.
The trash bag she had been carrying was torn, lying open at her feet.
"What is it? Mikasa." Asked Micah.
She spoke, but her words were shaky: "As I was standing here taking out the trash, there was a pale-haired girl in a white dress." She described.
“That’s her!” Micah exclaimed. “The same girl I saw!”
Her cousin looked at her, concerned by her reaction. "I think that girl was a ghost, don't you realize that? She argued.
"Yes, I'm sorry for my reaction," Micah said quickly. "I’m just relieved someone else saw her, too."
Her cousin hesitated, then said, “You know, we’ve always thought you were strange… seeing ghosts, talking about playing with them when you were little.”
Beck’s eyes widened. “Why am I just now hearing about this? We’ve known each other since elementary school!” Beck pouted.
“Please don’t be upset,” Micah’s cousin said. “Our family told her to keep it secret. We were afraid she’d be teased… or worse—committed to a mental hospital. It wasn’t her fault."
Beck's expression softened with sadness. "Oh, I see."
"Don't pity me, Becky," Micah said. "It was all for protecting my family and me.
“Well,” I said, trying to lift the mood, “you’ve got people you can talk to now.”
We helped her cousin to her feet and cleaned up the trash. Afterward, Micah's cousin tagged along with us when we found Uncle.
She also wanted to know if there was any connection to the girl. She must have been thinking the same thoughts as we, considering that the girl had some type of tie to the cafe or family.
When we told Uncle what the ghost looked like, tears welled in his eyes.
He told us it was his daughter who had died at the hands of a murderer 10 years ago, as of today. I must have stung more for him, knowing that today was the anniversary of the little girl.
“If it’s not too painful,” I asked gently, “can you tell us what happened?”
[Uncle's story]
“It was almost eighteen years ago when my daughter came into this world. Her mother—my wife—passed away giving birth to her."
"As time went on, I raised and cared for my daughter, cherishing every moment. She always liked to play pretend and dress up."
She loved to have tea parties. When I would sit in my chair after coming home from work, she would serve me her different handmade treats and baked goods."
"It would always put a smile on my face, no matter how hard my day was."
“When I became financially stable, I opened this café. She was only six. I named it Tenshi-tachi because her mother was Japanese and used to call our daughter Tenshi—‘angel,’ while she was pregnant."
“Two years later, a gang bought the bakery next door. I didn’t realize it at first, but they were using it as a front for drug and money laundering."
"At first, they asked me if they could purchase my building so they could add on to theirs. Before I knew they were gangsters, I thought they wanted to remove their only competition in the neighborhood."
"It was later that I found they would do some of their dirty business behind closed doors while trying to run the bakery."
"I knew since they came into the neighborhood, something felt off about them. After they moved in, crime spiked—arson, shootings… I knew something was wrong."
“One night, my daughter offered to take out the trash. One of the gang members shot her in the alley."
"A couple leaving my restaurant heard the gunshot and saw the man running out from the alley."
"The wife rushed to my daughter while her husband chased the shooter."
"I ran to her side and held her in my arms as the woman put pressure on her wound."
"The police came and took him off to jail."
"I could see the light emanating from her eyes as she touched my face just below my tears. As the ambulance rounded the corner of my cafe. My daughter, with her last breath, said I love you, daddy. She died from too much blood loss."
"After that loss, I almost closed the shop and left town, but all my faithful customers who were more like friends and loved to see my daughter smile. Heard the story, came by, and helped me keep the shop going. My wife's family joined as some of the staff today."
“The police investigated and shut down the gang’s operation. They’d been baking drugs and cash into loaves of bread to smuggle them in and out.”
Oh, I understand now. “So the ghost girl was your daughter,” I said softly. “That’s why only Micah and her cousin could see her. She wanted to reach family.”
“I don’t understand why she’s appearing now, though,” Uncle said.
“It could be because her grave was disturbed,” Micah’s cousin offered. “We heard that one of the gangsters had a son—he’s 14 now. He was put in an orphanage nearby and started acting out after learning what his father had done.”
“That makes sense,” I said. “Maybe her spirit was unsettled by what happened. She’s trying to communicate.”
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