It was that time of year again. Halloween, filled with horror movies, costumes, and silly pranks to scare your friends and family. It was also the time I’d spent with my father. He loved Halloween, so much so that he would take me to those haunted theme parks where I held his hand as we traversed through the haunted houses and carriage rides.

Five years later, I still can’t accept the invites to go to those places with my friends.

Amanda had offered me a ride to a park in Lancaster as she does every year. Despite me telling her every year the exact same thing: “It’s not the same without my dad.”

Maybe she doesn’t get it because she still has her dad. He liked Halloween too, but he never had time to go with her due to work. So, she would invite her boyfriend and friends like me.

My alarm clock read two-thirty. I went downstairs to get a snack when I heard Mom cussing up a storm about something.

“What’s wrong, now?” I asked, not really wanting to know.

My mother’s eyes were wide with panic. “We have no water. Go check in the basement to see if there’s a leak.”

Wonderful, I thought. This was a problem every year. When the temperatures dropped, the pipes would freeze in the basement, and we would have no water until they finally melted. Sometimes, that lasted for days on end.

Grabbing my coat, I went outside to our basement. The entrance sat underneath our porch as it was an above-ground basement. The door was built to look like the rest of the house with white sliding.

I pulled the door open and walked in, only to find two inches of water on the floor. A quick glance upward told me the cause: the water line for the hose outside. I shut off the valve that was closest to the pipe.

Luckily, the heater was not in the water. Good thing I put it on the boxes to keep it off the floor. We’ve had issues before where the water pipes burst. This was the third time the one for the hose broke. It traveled down the door, so it had the most exposure to the temperatures.

But, if it’s that pipe that burst, that meant something else was wrong. The water to the hose wouldn’t take all the water from the house.

I checked the gages at the water heater. One of them, I assumed, was the water pressure in the house. The needle was down to five, almost zero. We had no water pressure, which is most likely because of the freezing temperatures.

Going back outside, I noticed Mom was leaning over the railing on the porch. “What’s going on with the pipes?” she asked.

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“The water line for the hose broke, and we have no water pressure. Either the frozen water is preventing flow, or the thing is broken,” I explained.

She rolled her eyes and mumbled something I couldn’t hear. The nights were already getting colder. We didn’t need to this to add to our problems.

My hot breath formed smoke in front of my face as I shivered against the cold. I had a feeling this was going to be a long week.

~*~

It was several days before the plumber came by and told us what was wrong with our water pressure. Turns out, the switch was going bad and suggested that we increase the heat downstairs to prevent the water from freezing.

I barely had anything in my bank account, but between Mom and me, we could purchase two more heaters. I’d made sure that they were placed above the floor in case another pipe burst. It made Mom unhappy because she began worrying about the electric bill. Running that many heaters in one house would raise anyone’s bill.

I was outside the basement as Mom talked on the phone to my grandmother. From what I could hear of the conversation, it wasn’t going well. Mom was practically yelling at the phone now.

“I gotta go now, Mom. I’ll talk to you later,” she said before she hung up the phone. My grandmother probably didn’t appreciate that. She hated it when Mom did that.

Mom walked down the driveway and headed towards the open basement door. She put her hands in her pants pockets and stared at the water heater, mumbling something else I couldn’t hear, nor did I really want to. The last thing I wanted was a fight.

“Your father gave up everything to keep this house going. He’d be heartbroken to see how bad it’s gotten.” Mom’s face fell and wiped her cheeks.

I didn’t respond. It was true. Dad had spent money he didn’t have between this house and painful divorce with some woman he was with before he married Mom. He tore the entire house apart to replace everything from the floor to the electric and plumbing. He tried to make a suitable home with his own two hands, but, the house was just too far gone for him to save.

Now the weight of a broken house weighed on Mom and I. We had to keep it going. We had no money to move out, thanks to our crappy landlord.

She stepped out the door when she paused. Turning around, she stared at something on the floor and picked it up.

“What is it, Mom?” She didn’t answer me and continued to look at the thing in her hand.

I walked toward her to see what it was she was holding. She handed it to me. It was an old ID tag with Dad’s picture from a company he used to work for when I was a kid.

“This… this was on the shelf, wasn’t it?” I knew it was there. I’d see it years ago and just the other day. It was no-where near the edge to just fall off due to wind.

Mom looked at me, spooked. “It just fell. Face upwards and everything.”

I stared at my father’s awkward smiling picture. Is it possible that his spirit is here with us? On Halloween of all times, too. God, this is weird.

“Maybe Dad’s spirit is here reminding you he loves you and is here for you,” I offered, hoping it would give her some comfort.

“I don’t believe in ghosts and all that.” She waved her hand dismissively.

Annoyed, I said: “Do you have another explanation?” Instead of answering, she walked away from me.

Mom always joked that it was my Native American side of my Dad’s family that made me believe in ghosts and otherworldly things. I wasn’t much of a believer in God and the Devil, but I believed there were things that no reasonable explanation existed.

I felt my eyes water as I stared at my father’s photo. It was as though I could feel him trying to say, “It’s okay. Things will work out. I’m here.” I could hear the voice in my head clearly, as if he was standing right in front of me.

For the first time in weeks, I smiled. Genuinely smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

I can’t see him, but I felt he was there. Somehow, he knew what was going on and wanted to remind me and Mom that he was still here with us.

~*~

I drove to the nearby gas station to buy Mom and me cigarettes and a snack for my brother. She’d given me money as she ended up smoking all of mine. I also purchased some flowers for a stop I’d make before heading back home.

The church where my dad was buried was barely a quarter mile from the gas station. I pulled my car in and parked it. When I stepped out, I noticed one of the grave spots were recently filled close to my dad's. It must’ve been this past week by the looks of the fresh dirt.

I stopped and placed my car in park before getting out and walking over to my dad’s grave. The grass had barely grown after all these years. My uncle had told my mother he’d put some grass seed down, but it seems like it didn’t take.

I placed the flowers down on my father’s headstone. “Happy Halloween, Dad. Wish you were here.”

I left, feeling a sense of calmness. It was like a hand reached out to touch my own. Dad appreciated my visit and was wishing me a “Happy Halloween.”