10:30 pm, Christmas Eve, 1984

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Reese loved the brittle sound of the icy snow under Luke’s winter boots. Her feet had grown a whole shoe size since last season so she snuck into the forbidden zone – Luke’s room. She found his in the back of the closet, neatly lined next to his Sunday shoes. Although Luke was shorter than Reese when he died, his feet had been larger. His snow boots were a little big, but nothing a second pair of socks couldn’t remedy. It was cold anyway. The second pair kept her feet warm.  Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

“What are you doing with that saw?” Luke said, literally out of thin air.

Reese jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. “Man, you’re getting good at that!”

“Good at what?” Luke’s voice had an edge to it.

“Sneaking up on me,” Reese answered as she resumed her crunchy walking.

Luke apparently opted to ignore the comment and repeated, “What are you doing with that saw?”

Reese kept walking but lifted her right hand which held a red-handled hacksaw. “Why do you want to know? Nervous?”

“You’re not going to try anything stupid are you?”

Reese looked to her left where Luke’s voice was coming from. The moonlight was held hostage by passing clouds and she could only make out a shadowy figure. He glided along next to her and she couldn’t avoid the temptation to look at the snow. There were no footprints, no drag marks, not even a single wispy interruption on the sparkling frosty ground. It was as if he wasn’t even there.

“What? Like kill myself?” She thought it was humorous he cared enough to try and intervene. He was dead. Why wasn’t he doing dead people things, like breaking bread with Jesus? Isn’t that what Sunday School had taught them?

“Yeah, like that you dumbass,” Luke said.

Reese lowered the saw to her side. “No, nothing that dramatic. Just looking for a Christmas tree.” Suddenly the shadow of her brother stopped moving in unison with her. She stopped and twisted her body back to him. Just as she did, the clouds released the moonlight and cerulean blue adorned the landscape. Luke appeared transparent and prismatic at the same time. He was a gorgeous spectacle to behold.

She gawked in amazement until Luke said in an accusatory tone, "What?"

She pointed the saw in his direction. “It’s just … I don’t know if it’s the moon or what, but you look … wow.”

Luke laughed at his sister. “You’re such a dork.”

Reese clucked her tongue and turned back toward the woods. Surely she could find a Charlie Brown Christmas tree in there somewhere. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

A few seconds later, Luke called out, “Wait up, Sis. I’m just playing with you.”

Reese kept walking, ignoring Luke. She felt guilty because he was dead, but man oh man, she still wanted to pop him one upside the head.

“Don’t be mad,” Luke said.

He was now on her right side and Reese felt a tugging on the saw. “What are you doing?” She said and yanked the hacksaw back. It slapped her on the thigh. Thank goodness she was wearing snow pants, but she heard the nylon rip as the blade's small teeth gripped the material, like when their grandmother used to strip fabric into smaller pieces for quilting scraps.

“Now, look what you did!” Reese yelled and stopped to investigate the damage. It wasn’t bad, but still she was angry. If Luke hadn’t been murdered she wouldn’t be out in the woods looking for a stupid tree. If Grandma was still alive, she would have made Reese’s mom put up a tree. But no, everybody had to go and mess up her Christmas!

Reese dropped to her knees and used the hacksaw to stabilize her weight. It was too small to hold her up, but it did a decent job of keeping her balanced so she didn’t go nose first into the snow. “Luke?”

“Yeah?” He said in a somber voice, the same voice he used when their mother caught him up to no good.

“Do you ever see Grandma?”

Seconds ticked to minutes. Reese waited. Luke was still there, but he wasn’t saying anything.

“Luke?”

“I heard you. I was just thinking.”

“Ghosts can think?” Reese asked, genuinely surprised. She had never considered the possibility.

“Of course, you dummy. I’m still me, just without my body.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.” Reese pushed up from her kneeling position and continued on, entering into the thickening trees.

“Why are you looking for a Christmas tree anyway?” Luke asked. He kept pace with Reese as she paused here and there to inspect cedar saplings.

“Because Mom and Dad didn’t get one this year, and I want one.” She stopped abruptly. “I don’t mean to sound like I don’t care, Luke.”

If Luke were alive, the movement of his spiritual body would have been a shrug. “I didn’t take it that way. I’d want a Christmas tree too if you were dead.”

Reese couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Why don’t you just ask them for one?” Luke asked.

“It’s too late. It’s almost Christmas now. Just another hour or so. Besides they wouldn’t have gotten one if I had asked. They haven’t been themselves since you passed away.”

“What do you mean?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it. There’s nothing you can do about it anyway. I guess they’ll eventually act somewhat normal again, but for right now, they are just really, really sad.”

“Because of me?” Luke sounded horrified.

“No. Not because of you. They miss you. That’s’ all.”

“So they didn’t get a Christmas tree for you because they miss me?”

“I guess. I just don’t think they feel much like celebrating. I don’t either, but I’m trying to act like everything is okay. It’s been a sucky year so far. I still haven’t heard from Heather either.” Reese slumped her shoulders. All of a sudden she didn’t feel like looking for a Christmas tree anymore. It was a stupid thing to do. Like a dumb old Christmas tree was going to make her feel any better.

“Come on. Let’s go home,” Reese said, feeling defeated.

“Don’t you want to look anymore?”

“Not really.”

They turned around and Reese marveled at the deep imprints her feet had made in Luke’s boots. Man, he had big feet. “So, you never answered me. Have you seen Grandma?”

“No. I thought about it and I don’t remember seeing her. I don’t think I’m in heaven anyway. It’s like a train stop on the way. You know what I mean?”

“Not really.”

“Well, it’s like I know if I follow this path, I will eventually end up where I’m supposed to go. But I keep feeling like I’m not supposed to go just yet.”

“Maybe you’re supposed to find your killer,” Reese said hopefully.

“No, that’s not it. It’s more like I have stuff to do, but I don’t know what. There are all of these doors on one side and the path on the other. You know like in those old western movies where there was a depot on one side of the platform and the tracks on another?”

“Yeah.”

“Well it’s kind of like that except the depot goes on and on and on forever with all these doors. A gazillion of them.”

“That’s weird. Have you gone through any of them?”

“No. I’ve tried a couple, but they’re all locked.”

“Does anybody ever come out of the doors?” Reese was intrigued by the notion of an endless line of doors. What could be behind them?

“A couple of times. You remember Mr. Farthead Jenson? Our second grade teacher? I saw him come out of one.”

“Yeah, he died a few weeks ago. They arrested his wife for poisoning him.”

“Why would she do that? He was a jerk, but still.”

“I heard she got pissed at him one night when he complained about his supper being too overdone. The next night, she killed him. Rat poison in his lasagna. Guess he was always complaining about something and she’d had enough.”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s what I heard.”

“That’s too funny, because when I saw him come through the door, he was complaining about his wife’s cooking.”

Reese and Luke laughed hardily for a few minutes. The absurdity of the situation called for nothing less. After they quieted a bit, Reese said, “Maybe the doors only open one way. It’s like you said. It’s a stop on the way to wherever you’re supposed to go. Maybe Mr. Jenson is supposed to learn how to stop complaining before he moves on.”

“Then what am I doing here?” Luke said.

“I don’t know.” Reese secretly hoped her brother would stay there for a long time. She never saw her grandparents like she saw Luke, even though they were dead too. They were probably already in heaven, waiting for Luke to figure out whatever he was supposed to figure out.

They continued on in silence except for the crunching snow and Reese’s breathing. They arrived at the house within a few minutes and it was dark except for a stream of light coming from the kitchen window. Reese had turned on the bulb over the stove before leaving.

Reese felt a slight pressure and a quick surge of static shock go through her upper arm. Luke was touching her.

“Reese, can I tell you something?” He whispered, as if anyone other than Reese could hear him.

“Sure.”

“Sometimes, I hear noises coming from behind some of the doors. Like moaning or crying. They scare me.”

“Why would you be scared of them? Nothing can ever hurt you again.” Reese wanted Luke to believe her words. She didn’t want him to be afraid. She didn’t want to imagine him being afraid.

“I guess. I don’t know. It’s like they’re stuck behind the door for some reason. I think I was behind one of those doors for a little while too. It was scary. Like a tomb. I don’t remember much. Just every once in a while I was aware that I was stuck in the dark and couldn’t get out. I remember yelling for you and Mom and Dad. And you never answered.”

Reese scrutinized her brother. Poor Luke. All alone. It must have been terrifying. “Maybe it was before they found your body.” She said in a questioning tone. "And once you were found, you were freed from the imprisonment."

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

The heaviness of their conversation bore down on Reese until she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath. She didn’t want to go into the house. She wanted to be with Luke, wherever he was. “Luke, will you stay with me until I fall asleep tonight?”

He pushed at her arm and said in a cheerier voice, “Come on you dork.”

Reese settled into bed and the brother and sister duo chatted about Reese’s new school schedule and her new teachers for the year. They talked about their grandparents and how much they missed them. They talked about new MTV videos and Reese played some songs for Luke he had yet to hear. They laughed and laughed some more, quietly of course so they wouldn’t wake their mother in the master bedroom or their father on the den’s sofa.

Finally at about two in the morning, Reese’s eyes drooped. She heard Luke whisper, “Merry Christmas,” and then she fell asleep.

The next morning she awoke, not because she had slept enough, or because she was excited for presents under the tree. She woke because the fragrant woodsy smell of pine tree lured her from her slumber. She pushed up onto her elbow and looked around in her semi-darken room. But there was enough light to see a little sapling haphazardly propped up inside one of Luke’s snow boots. She switched on the lamp next to her bed. The little flimsy tree was decorated with earrings taken from her bureau.