It took Maddie weeks to notice the streetlight on the corner of her street wasn’t just malfunctioning, it was malfunctioning in a very particular way. She had been walking George, her puppy, and just passed under the streetlight. It winked out. Then flashed erratically a number of times then stayed dark. She walked on and half a block later she looked over her shoulder to see the light lit and steady.

The next night she stared at the light as soon as they turned the corner. She watched it for the two blocks as they approached. It shined steady without any fluttering at all. When she and George were within about ten feet of it, however, it winked out for a moment, then started flashing erratically again. And then again, once she was past the light it lit up steady again.

She stopped, George giving her a little grunt of confusion.

“I’m testing something,” she told him as she tugged his leash back down the street towards the light. Within ten feet the light winked out and started flashing, then went dim. She turned and hurried up the street to her house and rushed inside. “Evelyn!” she yelled.

“Yeah, hon?” Evelyn called from the kitchen.

“I need your help,” she remained in the entryway.

“If George had the runs again, that’s on you – we’ve established he’s your dog where that’s concerned.”

“No, Ev, it’s not that. I need you to try an experiment for me.”

Evelyn came out of the kitchen tasting a sauce on a wooden spoon. “Mmm,” she said and nodded before offering the spoon to Maddie.

“Oh, wow, Ev, that’s amazing.”

“It’s just spaghetti sauce.”

“That? That is not just anything.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” she said offering Maddie a kiss. “What do you need?”

“I need you to walk George down the street.”

Evelyn raised an eyebrow, “Didn’t you just do that?”

“I did, I did. Trust me, I want to see something.”

Evelyn took off her apron and took the leash from Maddie and opened the door. For his part, George looked as confused as Evelyn. “Don’t ask me, buddy. Your mom’s crazy.”

When they were on the sidewalk, Maddie said, “Okay, I want you to walk George down and around the corner. Go – I don’t know – 100 feet further, turn around and come back.”

“You’ve got a reason for this, right?”

Maddie nodded.

“Alright,” Evelyn said and started off with George. Maddie stared at the lit streetlight as they went. When they came within 10 feet… nothing happened. The light stayed lit and clearly showed Evelyn and George disappearing around the corner. A few moments later, they reappeared under the lit streetlight and stopped in front of Maddie. “Was that everything you hoped it would be?” Evelyn smiled.

“Huh…” Maddie stared at the streetlight. “Okay, okay, here,” she handed Evelyn her phone and took George’s leash. “Zoom in on that streetlight and stay focused on it.”

“The streetlight?”

“Yes.”

“That one?” she pointed.

“That one, yes. Ready?” Maddie strode down the street with George. When they got within ten feet of the light, it winked out. Then it started blinking erratically and then stayed dark. She spun and ran back to Evelyn, a tired George struggling to keep up. “Did you get it?”

Evelyn turned the phone around and the video of Maddie and George walking towards the corner was already playing. Maddie watched as the light winked out, then the light flashed, then stayed dim. “Thank you!” She gave Evelyn a big hug.

Evelyn returned the hug, “You know, I could film paint drying for you if that would get me more than a hug…”

Maddie play punched her in the arm and said, “Let’s go inside. I want some of that spaghetti!”

That night Maddie watched the light blink erratically on her monitor. She had zoomed in and had the video on repeat.

She was missing something.

The next night she had Evelyn film her and the light again, and again the next night.

She played them back to back. The blinking looked the same.

She synced them and played them at the same time. The blinking was the same.

…Only when she walked under the light…

… The light stayed steady all other times…

She figured she could call the city and see if they could send a technician. But what would she tell them? Like they’d waste their time for an utterly intermittent blinking light that only happened when she walked under it.

When she started to think maybe she had some special electromagnetic powers, she dropped her head onto the desk with an audible thud.

“You okay, Mads?”

Her voice muffled by the desk, Maddie said, “Yeah…. No….” She raised her head. “I miss my dad,” she said.

“That’s natural,” Evelyn said. “He’s only been gone, what? A couple years?”

“Two years, eight months, thirteen days. But who’s counting?”

“Clearly you are,” Evelyn said. Then, “Which is understandable. He sounds like a good man and you guys were close. It makes sense.”

“Yeah, but he’d get this. He’d see what I’m missing. This was his field.”

“I thought you said he was more radio than electrical.”

“Yeah, he was, but it’s all electrons. He’d understand this problem…” she watched the three recordings of the lights flash in unison, pause, then repeat. Flash, pause, repeat… She focused on the flashing itself – the flashes weren’t all the same duration, she noticed. But… they weren’t of a random duration either. She started to see a pattern. On for a second, off, on for a second, off for two… on for less than a second, off, on for second, off for two… On for a second, off, on for a quarter second, off, on for a quarter second, off for two… On for a second, off, on for a quarter second, off, on for a quarter second, off for two… On for a quarter second, off, on for a quarter second, off for two… On for a quarter second, off, video repeats…

“No fucking way.”

“Maddie?”

She grabbed a piece of paper and started noting the pattern down on the paper.

“Maddie? Are you okay?”

Maddie watched the video loop again, checking her notation. “No. No, no, no, no, no…” she said when it was clear her notation was correct.

Evelyn stood up and crossed to look over Maddie’s shoulder. “What’s going on, Mads?”

“Look,” she said tracing her pencil under the notation as the video played the flashes.

“Okay…” Evelyn watched. “Help a girl out, Mads. What am I seeing here?”

Evelyn looked up at her with wide eyes then back down at the paper. Under the first “– –” she wrote an “M”. Under the “. –” she wrote an “A”. Under the two instances of “– . .” she wrote “D”s. Under the two dots she wrote an “I”. Finally, under the last “.” She wrote “E”

“Maddie?” Evelyn read.

“My dad made me learn morse code when I took my HAM radio license. I told him it wasn’t a requirement for the Technician’s license test I was taking but he insisted I learn it and learn it cold.

“Mads, you’re freaking me out a little bit.”

“I’m freaking myself out a lot,” Maddie said, standing up from the chair and striding for the door.

“Maddie?”

As Maddie started down the street, the tears started falling. They blurred her view of the streetlight that shone brightly ahead. When she got within ten feet, the light winked out and started the pattern, “– .- -.. -.. .. .”

“Dad,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Is that you?”

The light stayed dark for a moment. Then repeated “– .- -.. -.. .. .” Then, the message kept going: “.. / -.. .. -.. -. .—-. – / -.- -. — .– / .. ..-. / -.– — ..- .—-. -.. / -. — – .. -.-. .”

“You didn’t know if I’d notice?”

“.. .—-. — / .. — .–. .-. . … … . -.. –..– / — .- -.. -.. .. . .-.-.- / .. / .– — .-. .-. .. . -.. / -.– — ..- / ..-. — .-. –. — – / -.– — ..- .-. / — — .-. … . / -.-. — -.. .” I’m impressed, Maddie. I worried you forgot your morse code.

“No dad,” she said as the tears streamed down her face. “You drilled me on it pretty hard. And, if I’m honest, that’s how I was able to communicate with Terri Johnson next door when you and mom took my phone away.”

“.. / .– .- … / .– — -. -.. . .-. .. -. –. / …. — .– / -.– — ..- / -.-. — ..- .-.. -.. / .–. .. -.-. -.- / – …. .. … / ..- .–. / … — / .– . .-.. .-.. .-.-.- / .. – / .– .- … / .- .-.. .-.. / – …. .- – / ..-. .-.. .. .-. – .. -. –.” I was wondering how you could pick this up so well. It was all that flirting.

“Dad! We weren’t flirting…”

“– .- -.. -.. .. . .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.-“ Maddie…

“Alright, alright…” she blushed, “Maybe a little flirting.

“Maddie? Are you okay?” Evelyn approached slowly.

Maddie sniffled and smiled. “Yeah,” she laughed. Then she said to the light, “Dad, this is Evelyn.” To Evelyn, “Evie, this is my dad.”

“.–. .-.. . .- … . -.. / – — / — . . – / -.– — ..- –..– / . …- . .-.. -.– -.”

“Uh, what was that?” Evelyn asked as the streetlight flashed seemingly erratically.

“He says ‘Pleased to meet you, Evelyn’” She said and then broke down sobbing.

“Hey,” Evelyn rushed over to her and hugged her. “Are you okay, babe?”

“I never thought I’d get to introduce you to my dad,” she sobbed. The streetlight overhead flashed empathetically.

Six months later, Maddie and George walked towards the corner.

The light blinked out, then “…. . -.– / — .- -.. -.. .. . -.-.– / …. — .– / .– .- … / -.– — ..- .-. / -.. .- -.– ..–..” Hey Maddie! How was your day?

“Dad,” she started, settling down on the sidewalk, her back against the streetlight and George settling in next to her in a practiced motion. “Evelyn proposed!” she held her hand up with her engagement ring.

“…. — -. . -.– –..– / – …. .- – .—-. … / … — / –. .-. . .- – -.-.– / .. .—-. — / … — / …. .- .–. .–. -.– / ..-. — .-. / -.– — ..- / -… — – …. -.-.– / – . .-.. .-.. / — . / …. — .– / … …. . / .–. .-. — .–. — … . -.. -.-.—” Honey, that’s so great! I’m so happy for you both! Tell me how she proposed!

“Well, you know how I told you we were going out to dinner Sunday?” she started. The light flashed interjections occasionally.

“Hey! Don’t go anywhere!” the blonde man yelled to the figure on the top of the mesa.

For his part, the man looked down at the man struggling up the trail in flip flops and a tank top then turned back to staring out over Albuquerque far below.

“Man, we’re up here, aren’t we!” The blonde man said, panting for breath. Then realizing he didn’t have to pant because he wasn’t actually breathing, he gathered himself and said “I knew you were, you know…” he gestured between himself and the stranger “a ghost, like me. Apparently.”

The stranger with a face weathered like cracked stone of the mesa regarded the blonde man again, then scratched his long, scraggly black beard, and again turned back to the view.

“Jake,” the blonde man said. “I’m Jake. Jake is me, I mean… Bro!” he jumped up and down in excitement. Then, getting a hold of himself, “Sorry, man, sorry. It’s just been, you know, so long since I’ve seen another, you know… like us…” he finished with a whisper, “ghost.”

The bearded stranger raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, man. I didn’t know if using the ‘G’ word was, you know, like some kind of like slur of the afterlife or something. I mean, do you prefer, like, non-living? Or formerly alive? Wandering spirit…”

“Francisco Rodríguez,” the stranger spoke a voice that sounded like stones grinding together.

Jake shook his head in surprise and staggered back against a juniper tree.

“Whoa, whoa… Francisco? That’s you, yeah? You’re Francisco? You speak English?” He added in exaggerated Spanish, “Hablo Ingles?”

Francisco regarded the blonde man with a look that suggested he might have regretted speaking at all. He nodded once. “I speak. We are both energy and you understand what I say. It is not a language of words.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” Jake said, unsure what to follow that up with. The sun shone down on the sagebrush. Jake knew it must be well over a hundred degrees, but he didn’t feel the heat at all. A breeze blew up through the canyons below and swept past them, causing the branches of the juniper to sway lazily.

“So,” Jake broke the silence, “We’re both, you know, dead. I’ll start… I died like… dude… a week ago? I rolled my jeep right over….” He stepped next to Francisco and pointed further down the canyon, “…there. Tyler was already hammered, so he couldn’t drive. I was pretty bad, too, but, you know, someone had to get us back to camp.” He was quiet for a moment. “Guess that probably shouldn’t have been me!” he broke out laughing. After a moment when he noticed Francisco not laughing he stopped. “What’s your story, man? I mean, you’ve clearly been here for a while. You know, I just got here – I mean, you know, the whole ghost, dead thing. What can you tell me, bro? What’s up?”

Francisco settled his dark gaze on Jake for long moments without saying anything. When he spoke Jake had that same sense that the ghost’s voice resonated like a rock slide. “I came with Coronado,” he began. He pointed to the southwest, “We came up from Mexico. 1540 I think. We wintered there,” he pointed due west, “Tiwa Pueblo village. We drove them out, took it for ourselves.” He stayed quiet for a long time. “They killed some of our horses. We massacred them. Burned the last survivors at the stake.”

“That’s some heavy shit, bro,” Jake nodded sagely.

“I was one of the few Spanish casualties. I watched the burning. Coronado leading the men back south to Mexico. The few Tiwa left alive returned. The town below,” he gestured towards Albuquerque, “I saw it founded and watched it grow. Watched the white men take over, build roads, resorts…” He sighed deeply. “I see the desolation.” His eyes bored into Jake “I see the very rock crumble and watch everything blossom and die and rot.”

“Bro,” Jake said quietly but seriously, “You are a serious buzzkill.”

Francisco did something that truly terrified Jake – he smiled. And then he laughed. The sound made Jake take an involuntary step backwards, tripping over the juniper tree. “Jake,” he said, the word sounding decidedly foreign. “You are barely a ghost. You are younger than the flowers on this sagebrush,” he said looking down at the tiny pale yellow flowers.

“Yeah, well, that’s true enough…”

“I pray like this flower you blossom and fade.”

“Fade?”

Francisco looked up at Jake and caught his gaze. “Find your peace, Jake. Find why you are still here. Move on.”

“But, I kind of like hanging out…”

“No,” Francisco said with the decisiveness of a thunderclap. “We are meant to live and die and fade. No one should exist for nearly six hundred years. I have long since cried my regrets to the wind. She is deaf to me. I am fated to remain a part of this wilderness. But not you, Jake. Find your reason. Find your peace.”

Jake regarded Francisco as the ancient ghost stood as stock still as the stone itself. They both stood and watched the sun begin to sink towards the horizon and the shadows lengthening. At last Jake said “Thank you, Francisco. I will take your advice. I will move on. I will find my peace.”

“Good,” Francisco said.

“But first I’m going to go over that ridge and scare the shit out of the campers over there,” he said and took off at an awkward run in his flipflops.

Francisco watched him go, rolled his eyes and said, “Kids…”

“We shouldn’t be here,” Darren said. “This place is condemned!”

I gave him by best, “Are you kidding me?” look. “Darren, how many places have we investigated that haven’t been condemned?” He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off, “Seriously, that Bailey place in Fort Brag was literally falling down when we were there – that rafter missed Alan by inches when it broke loose. And the Orange Hill Sanatorium? The stairway that fell when we started up it?

“Look at this place,” I pointed up to the imposing Victorian looming in the darkness beyond the chain link fence and the “No Trespassing!” and “Danger: Unstable Structure!” signs, “Compared to those places, this place looks practically move-in ready!”

Darren appeared unmoved. I took the bolt cutters from his reluctant hands and cut the lock off the gate myself. The broken lock clattered loudly onto the stone driveway as the gate created open slowly on rusty hinges.

“Voila!” I said, gesturing towards the house.

Darren looked at my face, meeting my eyes for a meaningful moment before he repeated, “We shouldn’t be here. I don’t feel comfortable with this.”

“Darren, you film and I’ll explore, alright?”

Darren scowled, shook his head, and readied the SLR camera. When he was set up he nodded.

“Hey folks,” I started in my best Excited-But-Trying-To-Be-Quiet Paranormal Host voice, “We’re here at Donaldson Manor in Eagle View. This place was condemned years ago and no paranormal team has ever investigated this structure!” I dramatically looked over my shoulder at the house with the missing shingles on the Mansard roof clearly visible in the moonlight. “Join us as we seek to capture incontrovertible proof of ghosts,” I said into the camera. I paused for a moment then said, “Great, Darren, let’s get in there. We can take the drone shots on our way out – the moon will be lower then and the light will be more dramatic, I think.”

“Whatever you say,” Darren sighed and followed quickly as I strode through the overgrown yard, and up the stone stairs towards the columned porch and recessed, foreboding front door.

I shone my light across the broken boards in the porch. If I’m honest, when my flashlight beam showed the dry rot in the rotted wood, I did get a little nervous that maybe we really shouldn’t be entering this place. Boards blocked the heavy front door with several of the decorative stained glass panels broken out. I took my backpack off and pulled the crowbar out.

“Do you want me to film you?”

“Uh, let’s not put the breaking and entering part on film, shall we?” I said starting in on the first board which pulled out too easily, adding to my fears that this dilapidated structure was already a mostly digested termite feast. When the second board popped off the door creaked open to reveal the weather-damaged foyer. I kicked the boards out of the shot and said, “Okay, roll it, Darren.”  He started filming as I started taking out the EM meter and giving the room an initial reading. “We’re in,” I said dramatically. “I’m checking the levels of energy here in the foyer. So far noth–” I stopped moving because the sound of footsteps could clearly be heard coming from upstairs. “Darren?” I whispered.

He nodded vigorously, “I’ve got it, boss.”

“I’m not seeing any elevated EM levels here,” I said. “But you can plainly hear that yourself,” I motioned towards upstairs. “Let’s see if we can find the source of those footsteps!” I said and moved quickly towards the grand staircase.

“Alex,” Darren hissed, “Don’t you want to check the structural integrity of that staircase first?”

But I was already halfway up the first flight in my excitement. “Daren, you heard those footsteps!” I turned to face him, still filming. “We need to get up there to check the–”

That’s when the staircase collapsed.

In the video the whole flight of stairs cracks violently and starts to shift. The steps I was standing on broke suddenly and I drop through the staircase.

From my perspective, I felt the broken wood tear at me as I plummeted through the stairs. My legs buckled as they hit the subfloor which gave way almost immediately and I fell through that and dropped another ten feet to the stone floor of the basement. I felt my back break, but for at least a few moments I was still conscious and breathing. I had time enough to wonder how the hell Darren was going to get down to me. I even had a second to wonder how cool the footage he shot would be. But that thought vanished as hundreds of pounds of broken wood, nails, and masonry followed my path through the floor and everything went black.

I woke up in the study, laying on a moth-eaten, rotted chaise lounge. An old man in a red smoking jacket sat in a high-backed chair with one wing broken off staring at me intently.

“Wh-where am I?” I said, blinking. It was night still and moonlight shone in through the windows, but no other illumination lit the dark room.

The old man just stared daggers at me.

“Who are you?” I said, starting to sit up.

“Stupid, stupid children,” he said as a curse.

“Excuse me?”

“The front door is boarded up. There’s a goddamn fence around the place. There’s signs on that fence declaring ‘No Trespassing’ and ‘Unstable’ and yet you idiots come anyway,” he gestured wildly. “Well, how’d that work out for you? Hmm?”

“Uh,” I started, “Pretty good if I’m still here…” I said, then noticed that I wasn’t feeling any ill-effects of that plummet through the stairway. I looked at my hands… and saw right through them. “Oh shit,” I said. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” was all I could repeat.

“That’s right, it got you killed. Idiots!”

“Oh my God, I’m dead!” I said agog.

“He gets it in one,” the man waved his arm. “Brilliant soul, this one!”

I struggled to get my breathing under control – or at least what I thought was my breathing. I mean, I guess there wasn’t actual panic breathing going on. “Who are you?”

“Andrew Donaldson,” he said getting to his feet and walking to the window. As he moved I heard his footsteps.

“Those were your footsteps I heard!”

He laughed and looked over his shoulder, “Brilliant deduction, kid. Welcome to the afterlife.”

We both remained silent for a long time.

Finally, I said, “Actually, this is great!”

“Come again?”

“If I’m dead, then surely some other paranormal team will come along and I can make contact with them – this is my chance to actually communicate to the living!”

“Heh,” Andrew said, “You think you’re the first person to have that idea?” he shook his head. “Knock yourself out, kid.”

Turns out, I didn’t have to wait long.

Though it felt like no time had passed between falling through the floor and waking up in the study, it turns out several months had passed. In that time, police showed up, and construction workers cut their way into the basement from the back of the building and recovered my body. Services were held, my friends mourned. Life moved on. Darren showed the footage with some friends, and someone uploaded it. The clip of me falling through the staircase went viral and the YouTube channel of our paranormal investigator group shot to the top of the algorithms. Darren had millions of views and tens of thousands of subscribers on his hands.

I was standing at the window of the study looking out when I saw the flashlights come up the hill. They stopped at the fencing before continuing forward. “They’re here!” I said to Andrew who sat in his chair.

“Who’s here?”

I squinted at the figures making their way towards the stone stairs. “That’s Darren!” I said. “I’m going to make contact!” I started out of the study.

“Yeah, you do that, kid!” Andrew waved after me.

I had learned I could just disappear and reappear anywhere on the grounds, but that still felt, well, unnatural. I preferred to “walk” the proper route even if my feet didn’t actually make contact with the ground. I hurried down the stairs, avoiding the hole I fell through even if I could no longer fall through.

I reached the foyer just as Darren pushed open the door, his flashlight beam shining right through me. “Darren!” I yelled. “It’s so good to see you!”

He kept silently shining his light around as he stepped inside.

“Umm,” the person behind the camera started, “Is that, uh, the staircase?”

“Yeah, Leti, that’s where Alex fell through, God rest his soul,” he crossed himself.

“I’m right here, Darren!” I yelled inches from his face.

“Do you hear that?” Leti asked.

“Those are the same footsteps we heard when we were here before – the ones that led Alex upstairs,” Darren said.

“That’s Andrew,” I said loudly. “He’s a little crotchety, but he’s a good guy.”

“I heard that!” Andrew yelled from upstairs.

“Come on, Darren!” I jumped up and down. “I’m right here! Check the EM meter! That things gotta be off the chart!”

“What’s the EM readings look like,” Leti asked.

“Yes! How spiked is that EM meter, Darren?” I asked encouragingly.

Darren pulled his handheld meter out of his backpack and turned it on waving it around. “Nominal,” he said finally, a little disappointed.

“Are you kidding me?!” I yelled.

Darren and Leti cautiously padded through the main floor checking EM readings and noting minor temperature fluctuations. They did capture Andrew walking around upstairs, but nothing of me screaming at them waving my hands violently, trying to move objects.

“Let’s head back outside,” Darren said.

“Yeah, it’d be nice to go upstairs, but…” Leti trailed off.

“Yeah,” Darren shuddered at the memory of me falling through.

Outside, down the stone steps with the building – my new permanent home – looming in the moonlight, Darren stared into the camera. “Well, that’s it for my emotional return to the Donaldson Manor. You all have been asking for it, and here we are. As you can see, we captured some of the same footsteps Alex and I heard, but that was about it. No elevated EM readings, no other paranormal activity. If Alex is still here…”

“I am! I am, Darren!”

“…He wasn’t interested in making contact. Thanks for watching. Hit the like and subscribe buttons and we’ll catch you on our next paranormal investigation.”