Christopher Golden - A Winter of Ghosts

Winter had come to Miyazu City,yet instead of the silence and darkness it so often promised, it had broughtKara Harper happiness and renewal. Most people making their way through theshop-lined streets of downtown Miyazu seemed trapped in a long, grim hangovernow that the holidays were over. The city had to return to business as usual. Intwo days, school would start again and Kara would have to do the same, but shewas looking forward to it.

A new year. After the nightmarescome to life that had plagued her first two terms at Monju-no-Chie school, sherelished the idea of a fresh start.

"Hey, lovebirds, wait up!" she called in English, hurrying to match stride with her father, Rob, and hisgirlfriend, Yuuka Aritomo.

Her dad and Miss Aritomo were bothteachers at Monju-no-Chie, a private school on the outskirts of Miyazu City,where he taught English and American Studies, and she taught art. Theirrelationship had taken Kara a lot of getting used to — her mother hadbeen dead only two years — but she had come to accept it. For a long timeshe had worried that her father would never be happy again, but it had stillbeen hard for her when he had fallen in love. Now, though, she knew that hislove for Yuuka didn't mean he had stopped loving, or missing, Kara's mother.

It helped that Kara had alsofallen for someone. After all that they had endured, it seemed so improbablethat she and her father would both be so happy at the same time, but she neverspoke about the unlikeliness of their good fortune because she did not want tojinx it. Kara had definitely had enough of curses to last her a lifetime.

"You're speaking English?" her father said, arching an eyebrow. "Do you want to look like a tourist?"

Kara grinned, switching toJapanese. "Dad, it isn't like they can't tell we're tourists."

Miss Aritomo chuckled softly. Karaliked it when she laughed. She was a very pretty woman, delicate and graceful,but being around Rob Harper had seemed to allow Yuuka Aritomo to exhale alittle. Japanese culture had so much to do with what was proper and correctthat, to Kara, most of the adults always seemed stiff and serious. But herfather and Miss Aritomo had given each other reasons to smile.

"I don't know how youtalked me into this," her father said.

"I didn't talk you intoanything," Kara insisted. "I need boots. It's winter, in case youhadn't noticed."

"It's not like we've hadmuch snow — "

"My feet are cold!"

"You have boots, Kara,"he said.

Kara rolled her eyes and lookedto Miss Aritomo for help.

"Her boots are old and uglyand barely fit her," the art teacher said.

"Exactly!" Kara said,linking arms with Miss Aritomo. "See, Dad, women understand this stuff."

He sighed. "All right,where's the shop again?"

Kara made a small, gleeful noiseand linked her other arm through her father's, hurrying the two adults alongthe street. "It's just up here!"

Miyazu City seemed to have ahundred different neighborhoods, from lovely parks to teeming businessdistricts, from upscale suburbs to moldering apartment complexes, and from busyroads lined with markets to gentrified shopping areas. Kara found them allinteresting in their own right, and nearly always took her camera with her whenshe went into the city. What she loved most of all was the way that ancientarches and temples and shrines could be found in the unlikeliest of places, andthe juxtaposition of the cityscape with the low mountains on one side, or theblue waters of Miyazu Bay on the other. Visually, it was a fascinating place tolive.

Now she marched her dad and MissAritomo along the sidewalk of a street lined with markets and noodle shops,passing a fabric store and a butcher's. The aroma of cooking noodles and fryingfoods wafted from stalls and open doors. She could still taste the squid she'dhad for lunch. They were fried in long strips that reminded her of churros, andthough they were nearly always chewy, she had come to like squid prepared thatway.

Men in uniform swept the streetand people rode in all directions on bicycles, the last snow having melted fromthe stone street days before, although the mountains were still capped withwhite. Telephone wires crisscrossed above them, poles and lamp posts onlyslightly more numerous than the vending machines that popped up on every block.

On the corner ahead, three pinetrees had been left standing around a small shrine. Kara steered her dad andMiss Aritomo to the right and onto a street that sloped gently down towardMiyazu Bay. From here, they could see Ama-no-Hashidate, the finger of whitesand and black pines that jutted across Miyazu Bay and was considered one ofthe three most beautiful sites in Japan. Kara had taken hundreds of photos ofthe bay and of Ama-no-Hashidate, and though she thought she had probably usedenough film on it, she still found the sight beautiful. It cheered her evenmore and she picked up the pace.

"Slow down, daughter,"her father said. "What's the rush?"

"It's not my fault you'reold."

"Okay, that's enoughteasing me around my girlfriend," he said.

Kara laughed. "Yuuka lovesyou anyway. Don't you, Yuuka?"

Miss Aritomo blushed slightly asthey hurried along, arm in arm. "I think I love him a little more when youtease him. I want to protect him from abuse."

Kara bumped her gently as theywalked. "No you don't."

"But I do!" the womanprotested.

"Maybe you should keep itup then, Kara," her father said.

They passed a music shop, asmall bookstore, and what seemed like a dozen clothing stores. Two feudingpizza restaurants stood on opposite sides of the street, facing one another. Karahad tried them both and thought the crappy little joint down the street fromher favorite noodle shop was much better, and much cheaper. Her two bestfriends, Sakura and Miho, had showed her the best places to buy clothes andhair accessories and music, but her boyfriend, Hachiro, could be counted on tobring her to the tastiest and most out of the way restaurants in Miyazu City.

"Kara," Miss Aritomosaid, "I've been meaning to remind you. School starts again in two days. Whenwe are around other teachers and students — even your friends — youcannot call me Yuuka. It isn't — "

"I know," Kara said."It isn't proper."

The temptation to tease MissAritomo about Japanese propriety, especially when it came to sleeping with herfather, was great, but she knew the woman would be absolutely mortified and didnot want to embarrass her like that. After the horrors they had endured at thebeginning of the fall, the death they had seen and the curse that had nowtouched them all, the rest of the fall term had passed so quietly as to allowthem a cautious optimism. And the holidays had been nothing short of joyful.

Only a tiny fraction of theJapanese population identified itself as Christian — most were Buddhistor Shinto — but Japan had long ago embraced Christmas. People ate aspecial cake on Christmas Eve, which was considered a night of romanticmiracles. Being with your significant other that night was a big deal, andHachiro had called her from home and spent an hour telling her how much hewished he could be with her to celebrate the night. It meant a lot to herbecause she knew it meant a lot to him.

She and her father had chosen tocelebrate as Japanese a Christmas as possible, exchanging small gifts with eachother and with Miss Aritomo, who had joined them for dinner both on ChristmasEve and Christmas Day. Kara had received a locally made Teddy bear and a smallemerald ring from her father, and Miss Aritomo had brought her flowers and ahand-knit scarf. Kara had bought Yuuka a small handbag with her own money, andher father had given her a necklace that Kara had helped pick out.