![]() She missed the Chin Chin Man and ran up her cousin’s phone bill making calls to him, until her cousin threatened to kick her out. She spent most of those days at home alone with baby Nana. My mother had been struggling to find a job. ![]() The ghost my mother saw came around only when her cousin was out of the apartment, which was fairly often, as she was a full-time student who also worked part-time at a Chick-fil-A. “You don’t think ghosts are real, but just wait until you see one.” “Ghosts aren’t real,” we said, and she chided us for becoming too American, by which she meant we didn’t believe in anything. Sometimes I could feel him touching my back and his hand felt like a broom brushing my skin.” He would move the dishes around and shake the room. ![]() “I would turn the light off and he would turn it back on. My mom would often tell me and Nana about a ghost that used to haunt her cousin’s apartment in those early days of her living in the United States. It wasn’t a tornado it wasn’t even a storm. ![]() If his presence was weather, it was a cloud on an otherwise clear day. The sea of people in Kejetia didn’t part for him, didn’t back away in fear. ![]() “Look, a crazy person,” my aunt said to me that day in Kumasi, as casually as if she were pointing out the weather. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |