The Ghost Farm

The farm was tucked in between the slopes of the two desolate hills, obscured from the rest of humanity. There was no fencing either; the alfalfa and other flora thickly blanketed the land around it and the farm animals were unmoving in their sheds. Even the wind didn't seem to want to disturb the tranquility of the farm-both the natural and man-made world had stilled in that moment, as it seems to always do in the morning. In the cottage, the dawn sunlight peered through the gaps in the door and spilled out into the nursery upstairs. The lump of  blankets in the cot jolted. It rustled for a moment, making the cot groan as it leaned, and a pudgy limb fumbled its way out of the cot and seized onto one of the cream-coloured posts. The chubby fingers strained, and a head emerged from the mound of blankets the way a pudgy maggot emerges from an egg too small for itself. The child wriggled a little bit more, its cocoon of blankets collapsing as it pulled itself up. Clad in merely a diaper, it sleepily clambered over the cot and plopped onto the floor, dragging itself down the stairs. 

The child's matted mess of orange hair appeared around the corner as it crawled into the kitchen on all fours. Pots and pans were hovering above the kitchen benches, rinsing themselves under the gurgle of running tap water. The air froze, and then the silhouette of a woman faded into sight. Her hair was stringy and pale, swaying about her lanky body, but her round face seemed to glow pleasantly in the soft sunlight. She was almost invisible and grayscale, but the baby seemed to clearly notice her and its chubby cheeks lifted as it grinned toothlessly at her. She turned back to her washing, her scrawny elbows brushing against her apron.

"Morning, Emmett," she said. The baby toddled past, crawling out the open door. "Stop that crawlin', it's undignified," she added, as Emmett's pudgy foot slipped out. Watching him pick himself up, she sighed and flicked off the tap.

The shed doors groaned as they swayed open. Another similarly dull, diaphanous figure crouched on top of a crate squinted as the light spilled into the room. As soon as the head of carroty locks came into view, Riley mumbled a greeting and went back to fiddling with a pocket watch. 

"Lily's up, right?" he croaked hoarsely. Emmett's beaming, rosy face peered into his hands, and then nodded, his curls bouncing. Riley clicked his tongue. "Fixed up the watch she had when she was alive," he said. "Gonna give it to her n' see what the other ghosts got."

When no answer came he turned his head in Emmett's direction. The toddler gave a guilty grin up at him, Riley's straw hat engulfing almost everything on his head above his smile. Riley sighed, plucking the hat off with his colourless fingers and knocking it on the crate, dust swirling into the band of light that stretched across the shed. "Need some new friends on this dang farm," he muttered. "All I got are some animals and a mute baby."

The children trickled out into the paddock, their bare feet trampling on top of the alfalfa as they hollered into the fresh air. Their washed out bodies occasionally appeared transparent as they twirled in the field, camouflaging with the sky. Emmett bounced on the tallest's shoulders, his head wobbling as the children stampeded along. A snake stole across the wooden patio, its body trailing behind it as it dove into the bush. Riley's sandal-clad foot lumbered onto the deck as he shuffled out, pausing to see the reptile's glimmering being shoot into the bush. 

"Snake?" Someone said behind him. Riley collapsed into the hammock, his body making a muffled thud in the material.  He hummed. 

A dumpy boy, not much older than fifteen or sixteen, stumbled after Riley and shut the flyscreen behind him. He paused to watch the ghost children gambol around a giggling Emmett, then his eyes travelled to the collapsed Riley. The boy grinned roguishly at Riley. "I died because of a snake bite."

"Hush it, Sammy, we all know."

"Just sayin'," Sammy murmured as he watched Riley shift in the hammock. "Say, why is it just us ghosts and Emmett?" 

An eye opened and studied the olive-skinned boy. Riley's head lifted up slowly, the hammock creaking along with him. "Like why he's stuck with us?"

Sammy nodded eagerly. Riley thoughtfully sat up, his eyes boring into the horizon. The sunlight was starting to dim, but it still glimmered in his weathered eyes. "Well, we're stuck here, for one."

"Hm?"

"This farm's on a graveyard. We're all stuck here, cause we're all buried here." Riley tilted his stubbled head towards Emmett. "Kid got abandoned on one of the hills. Lily took pity on him, and we owe her a lot." 

At that moment, the worn-out children traisped along the flattened path. The tallest boy set Emmett down and wearily entered the house, the others following. Emmett wobbled, trying to regain his balance. He tilted his head up at Sammy, the dimming light seeming to bounce off his lively features.

He promptly whipped around. The pair watched him as he tottered into the house. 

"Some place to be stuck, eh?" Sammy chuckled softly, his gaze moving over to the sinking sun. "A farm fulla ghosts."