I Am Jack...

• Tamara Hursey, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2014

The little boy looks up at his teacher and puts his hands on his head. She smiles at him and his chest swells. He had been the first student in his class to put their hands on their heads.
“Well done class! Now, I want you to get out your crayons and draw me some pictures of your weekend. Do you think you can do that for me?”
“YES!” the class chorused.
“Excellent! I can’t wait to see all your pictures.” The teacher smiled at the class one last time. She had a nice smile, the boy decided.
Miss Flowers walked through the class of students admiring their drawings. All the kids were doing a great job trying to keep within the lines, tongues sticking out in concentration, but there was one little boy -the one who had been the first to put his hands on his head- who was so absorbed in his picture he hadn’t seen her approaching. It was her first day, and remembering twenty-three little faces and names was hard, but she remembered Tommy. The closer she got, she could see Tommy’s lips moving, but there was no-one at his table…
“What are you drawing Tommy?” she asked. “Me and my friend Jack at the park.” Tommy said proudly. “Does Jack go to this school too?” Suddenly Tommy started laughing. Miss Flowers smiled nervously. She didn’t understand. “You’re funny Miss Flowers! Jack is right here!” She looked around. There was no-one near them. All the other students were busy drawing. Besides, she was sure there were no Jack’s in her class. There was a James, but no Jack. Had Tommy confused the two? “Tommy-“
“Jack says you don’t believe me, but you do, don’t you Miss Flowers.” They didn’t teach you how to deal with this at Uni.
“Tommy, I -“she stops abruptly. Tommy has turned to the seat beside him. For the first time she notices that the seat has been pulled out, as though someone is sitting there. Tommy’s head is tilted to the side, listening to something only he can hear. Finally, he turns back to Miss Flowers. She needed help. She wasn’t qualified to deal with this.
“Jack says he is a ghost and that’s why you can’t see him. You mustn’t tell anyone Miss Flowers. Promise us.” She didn’t know what to do. Did she promise Tommy, and then betray his trust by heading to the nearest classroom to tell another teacher? She was way out of her depth… She had to tell someone who could help him. He needed help. She started to rise from the seat she had taken opposite Tommy, but something stopped her. A floating crayon…
It rose above the paper. She watched as the crayon dipped and danced across the page. When it finished, it floated back onto the table and the page drifted over to her fingertips. Body trembling, she leaned over and read the words; My name is Jack and I am a ghost.