The younger Sam patted the metal grating beside him. Sam hesitantly threaded his legs through the balustrade and sat.
“I don’t understand this,” he muttered, studying the youthful face, which showed no signs of the gnarly injuries the Sam in the hospital had.
“When that car hit me,” said Young Sam, “and before I lost consciousness, I saw who it really was that I pushed out of the road, and I was really confused to see someone who looked like me and Dad smooshed together.”
He demonstrated his point with his hands, mashing his palms against one another.
“Then I was in this… bizarre twilight between life and death, and there was this voice that was talking to me. I don’t know who it was, but it told me about you. Or, I guess, my own future.”
He rested his chin on the railing, staring out into the night. “There isn’t much left of me in that bed. Kind of a bummer.”
“Not a whole lot left of me either,” Sam said. “Not for much longer, anyway.”
The younger Sam gave him a pitying glance. “You’ve been trying real hard, huh? To fix it.”
“And yet, nothing’s worked.”
He felt Blitzen’s soft fur against his leg, and looked down to see that the cat had squeezed between them.
“He’s got no hard feelings,” said Young Sam, gesturing to the cat, who was curling up. “You ended his suffering when you had to.”
He felt Blitzen vibrating against his skin, a soft purr drifting up from him.
“Sam, you gotta do the same for me.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “What? But—”
“I know. You’re worried something bad’s gonna happen.” Young Sam’s eyes were glimmering now. “But that voice, it said that it’s the only way to set things right. You have to cut the cord.”
“Lemme get this straight,” said Sam, incredulous. “You – a hallucination – want me to trust the direction of some nebulous voice that you heard, and I didn’t hear, that could kill both of us if I follow its instructions?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“Okay, so this has been a fun little jaunt through my crumbling psyche,” he said, climbing inelegantly to his feet. “I am gonna go inside now, because I’m clearly in desperate need of some sleep.”
“Sam…”
“See ya.” Sam stepped into the window, and shut it, latching it with a flourish. He waved to the apparition before closing the curtains.
He spun around, breathing out.
“Cool thing about bein’ a ghost is the laws of physics don’t apply to me,” said Young Sam, who was now seated on the couch, looking smug.
Sam cursed under his breath. “Oh, would you just get lost?” he said in a low, but acidic tone, gesturing wildly. “I have enough to deal with already without the… the ghost of Christmas past jerking me around!”
“What do I need to do to make you listen to me?” asked the other Sam. “Do I need one of those little computer thingies with the flashing lights? I don’t think I have the budget for one of those.”
Sam rubbed his eyes, and flopped onto the couch beside his ghostly counterpart.
“You’re really not going away, are you?”
“Well, it’s either here or back listening to a machine doing the breathing for me, and that’s hardly a productive use of my time.”
“Well whether you’re here or not, I’m goin’ to sleep.” Sam brought his feet up onto the couch, which passed through Young Sam’s form as if he were Al.
“Okay, have at it, buddy. I can wait.”
Sam flashed him a narrow-eyed glare, before closing his eyes.
* * *
Sam awoke to the feeling of a slap against his cheek. Alarmed, he opened his eyes. Young Sam was standing over him, grinning.
“Good morning,” he said. “Did you feel that? Sure made a noise.”
Sam stretched out a wary hand towards him, and it passed through the body of his double.
“How come you can touch me?”
“Ghost stuff. It’s kinda hard, though.”
Sam’s eyebrows met, and he sat up, rubbing his cheek. “Ghost stuff…” he muttered, narrowing his eyes. “I still think I’m just seeing things. And hearing, and feeling.”
Sam knew there were technical terms for these things, but the words weren’t coming to him.
“If you say so,” said Young Sam, and turned his attention to the bedroom door. “Sounds like Mom’s up and about.”
A moment later, the door opened, and Thelma appeared, smiling at Sam.
“Good morning, dear,” she said. “Did you sleep alright? I’m sorry for taking your bed.”
“That’s okay. I slept fine.”
“Aww Mom,” said Young Sam, “I wish you could see me. You might be a little more receptive. Katie would be for sure.”
As Thelma shuffled off to the kitchen to fix breakfast, Sam did his best to ignore the running commentary from his ghostly friend. He began to stand from his seat, only to find he couldn’t keep his balance, and he slumped back down, bewildered.
“More symptoms?” Young Sam asked. “Tough break. You’d better get to the hospital and pull the plug while you still can.”
“Would you just…”
“Who’re you talking to?” Katie was in the bedroom doorway, looking at the empty space where Sam’s ire had been directed. Then her eyes widened. “Did your hologram guy come back?”
Sam frowned. How the heck was he supposed to explain this? “No… I think I’m just seeing things that aren’t there.”
“Katie, it’s me!” said Young Sam, waving his arms in front of her. He changed tack, attempting to poke her in the arm. This only resulted in her scratching in the spot he was poking.
He spun around to Sam, waving around his index finger. “Ha, see? Could a hallucination make her do that? I think not!”
Sam glanced at him with a frown, before looking up at Katie. “Listen, could you help me up? My balance is off.”
Katie gave him a sympathetic look, and held out her arms to him. He gripped them, and she pulled him to his feet. He used her shoulder to steady himself, before letting go.
“Thanks… I think I’m okay for now.”
“Clock’s ticking, Gramps,” said Young Sam. “How much longer do you think you can chug along like this?”
His irreverence dissolved, leaving a wide-eyed, earnest expression on his face. “Please…”
Despite Sam’s reluctance, the plea cut through to his heart, and he bit his lip as he evaded the intense look Young Sam was directing towards him.