"How old are you?" asked Sam.
"Hm... good question," said Lydia, tilting her head a bit. "Let's see... I died in 1942 at the age of 27, found my way out of the Ghost Zone in 1945, and was almost immediately captured by Freakshow's grandfather."
She looked at Sam, who had laid back down and was watching the meteors as she listened. "As a ghost I don't age, so in one way you could say I'm still 27, and in another way I'm 91."
"Wow," said Sam, then grinned. "You don't look a day over 30."
Lydia laughed. "Thanks, I think," she said.
"Being Goth didn't exist in 1940, so why are you dressed like that?" asked Sam.
Lydia sighed. "It was Freakshow's idea. When he inherited the circus, he made huge changes in its looks and changed the name to Circus Gothica. He captured other ghosts, and forced us to change our looks to conform with what he wanted.
When I was alive I had a way with animals, and he knew that. So he sent me to the Ghost Zone to collect the ghosts of snakes, bats, owls, and so on, and put them under my control. They became my "tattoos"."
"What were you like before?" asked Sam.
"Ordinary girl, but a bit independent-minded and non-traditional. I was one of the first female workers at a munitions plant during World War II," Lydia answered, then a thoughtful look settled over her. "I think I died when something heavy fell on me, but I'm not sure."
"I see," said Sam, "Now that you're free, are you going to change back to the way you were before?"
Lydia shook her head. "No, I studied up on the Goth philosophy and lifestyle, and it fits me quite well. I'll probably stay the way I am." She grinned. "Besides, the conformists seeing a floating red cloak with green eyes and no body freaks them out. It's fun."
Sam laughed. "Yeah, it is, as long as you don't attract the attention of certain ghost hunters. That could put a damper on it."
Sam turned off the music, and they sat for a while, watching nature's fireworks to the sound of splashing water.
"Do you ever miss Freakshow?" Sam asked.
There was a long silence, then Lydia answered, "In some ways I do. I've known him all his life. When he was born I became his nanny and guardian when I wasn't performing in the big top. Because of him I didn't have to, uh, be with the men any more."
Sam was silent.
"He was a good kid as he grew up, and we were best friends. Sometimes while we were set up at some city, I would take him on a flight over it. He would get all excited, and point out to me things he saw that he liked, and when he had some money we would land and he would go into the candy shop or whatever, and I would follow, invisibly, to keep an eye on him."
She sighed. "I had orders to make sure he never got lost or hurt, but I would have done that anyway. I really loved him as a child, and he loved me. Sometimes he would tell me that,
especially when he was mad at his parents."
She shook her head. "We had a kind of bond, as well. We could 'feel' each other in our heads,
and we both took comfort in it. When you freed me from the Staff, that bond was lost. But now, I don't care."
"So, what happened to him?" asked Sam.
"I'm not really sure. After his parents died he inherited the circus and the Control Staff,
and that's when he started to change. He became cold, and cruel. Not only to us ghosts, but to his human staff and workers as well. He got greedy, wanting more money and power.
Sometimes just for the fun of it, he would give a ghost some task impossible to do, and then punish them for failing," she shuddered. "I suppose because of our history he was a little kinder to me, but if I failed, the iron was waiting."
"You mentioned something about iron before. What was that about?" asked Sam.
"Can you keep a secret?" asked Lydia, looking into Sam's violet eyes.
"Y-yes, I can," she replied, steadying her gaze back at the ghost.
"The touch of pure iron is very, very painful to ghosts. Steel and other alloys are fine, but iron itself is agony," she replied. Lydia suddenly stood up, drifted over to Sam's sleeping bag, and settled at the foot of it.
"I will tell you a few things that were done to me and other ghosts, so you can understand better. You are mature enough to handle it," she said.
"I'm not so sure I want to know," said Sam, looking worried.
Lydia's head bowed, and she was silent and unmoving.
Sam thought a moment, then said, "Lydia, I'm sorry. You're my friend, and if I can help you feel better by listening to you, I will. Tell me, please."
Without moving, Lydia began to speak in a low voice. "They would order me to lie down flat and not to move. Then they would take an iron chain and drape it over my body. Forbidden to escape, all I could do was scream and beg for mercy." Luminescent, ectoplasmic tears began to fall. "His father also had an iron collar that fit snugly around my neck that he would make me wear. It would spread pain all over me, and I would still have to obey orders and work anyway."
Sam moved over and put her arms around Lydia, hugging the ghost tightly as she cried. There were other things they did, worse things, but you will hear of them only if you order me to tell you."
"No, I don't think so. That's plenty," said Sam, hugging a bit tighter. "Besides, I can't order you to do anything. You're free."
Lydia pushed Sam away, holding her at arm's length, then caressed her cheek gently. "Yes,
you can. You have no idea how grateful I am to you for my voice and freedom. They are gifts I will never be able to repay. I will obey any order you give me."
An alarm bell went off in Sam's head. She pulled away from the ghost. "Lydia, I'm really glad I helped you, and that you're my friend, but one thing I've learned about ghosts is that they tend to be obsessive, and I don't want to be what you obsess about."
Lydia gave a wan smile. "You're right, of course," she answered, "And I will have to watch myself over that. But please, try to understand. I was a slave for sixty years. The Staff made me obey without question, or the thought of rebelling. I've been freed for a week, and I still have that... um... what's the term... conditioning. I WANT to obey you, at least until I learn how to be free again."
"But it goes against what I believe," protested Sam.
"I know. And it's because of that I feel safe in asking. You won't keep me, and you won't abuse me, and you will help me be comfortable with freedom again," said Lydia.
"Yeah, I see what you're getting at," answered Sam, slowly, "And if I look at it objectively, it shows wisdom on your part."
Lydia smiled again. "You're very intelligent, but you're also very young. I'm much older and experienced in the ways of the world. I trust you, Sam. Otherwise I wouldn't ask."
Sam closed her eyes and thought.
"Whatever you decide will not affect our friendship," said Lydia, "I promise."
Sam opened her eyes and looked at her ghost Goth friend. She sighed. "Let me think about it, and sleep on it."
"Of course. I know it's a hard thing I'm asking you to do, but I don't have anyone else to turn to," said Lydia.
After a long minute of silence, Sam said, "Let's change the subject." She looked up in time to see a meteor flash across the sky. "What else can you tell me about the night sky?"
The girls returned their attention to the stars and planets above, and Lydia began pointing out constellations and giving the names of stars.
Their backs were to the waterfall, so neither noticed the glowing red eyes observing them from inside it about halfway up.