“Ezra? Join us for beers after work?” Mateo leaned into Ezra’s cubicle.

“Can’t,” Ezra said, visibly disappointed. “I’m meeting my housemate tonight.”

Mateo quirked a brow. “Dude, didn’t you just move into a place two months ago? What happened with that place?”

“Same place. But I still haven’t met my housemate. Everything was done online through email and chat. Apparently his job keeps him on assignment for weeks or months at a time. He’s back in town today and really wanted to meet in real life.”

“Bro, you know that sounds hella sketchy, right?”

“Yes…” Ezra started. “But the rent was ridiculously cheap, and the place is really nice.”

“Ridiculously cheap rent, an absentee housemate, everything done online… Dude, you’re going to wake up one morning missing a kidney, you know this, right?”

“I didn’t even mention that the place is haunted.”

“Bro! Seriously, WTF?”

“Have you checked out the state of renting these days? It’s absolutely insane. And this place isn’t exactly paying the kind of wages I can afford anything real – especially with my student loans…”

Mateao held up his hands in a placating gesture, “No, man, I get it… I just… dude. Dude.”

“Dude, I know… We’ll see how tonight goes. Worse comes to worse, I run out screaming and sleep in my car until I figure out what’s next.”

“Alright, man… We’ll pour one out for  you,” Mateo shook his head. “Good luck, dude.”

When Ezra got home, the lights were still off and the house was still locked up – had he screwed up the dates? Was the mysterious Ian not actually coming home? Maybe a flight delay…

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket – a message from Ian: “Hey Ezra, my flight’s delayed. Should be there around 6:30.”

“See,” Ezra said to himself. “That makes sense.” Then he heard the footsteps above him that he’d been hearing since he moved in. “Guess the ghost is active today,” he laughed and went to his room to change. He’d heard footsteps coming from the second floor since he moved in – he’d even heard doors opening and closing on their own. Ezra had investigated only to – unsurprisingly – find nothing upstairs but Ian’s fastidious room and bathroom. Nothing out of place, no one hiding up there.

He texted Ian about it once and Ian’s response was… if not reassuring, at least confirmation he wasn’t crazy: “Yeah, I’ve heard that too. I tried to convince myself the house was settling, but that doesn’t make sense. I don’t have an answer other than it at least seems like a friendly ghost!”

If Ian wasn’t freaked about it, Ezra couldn’t get too worked up about it. It wasn’t like the ghost messed with his stuff or anything.

It was 6:45 when Ezra heard the automatic garage door open. He thought he’d see the lights from Ian’s car, but figured he was just really into this new Netflix series. He heard the garage door close and then heard the kitchen door open and close and then a voice from the kitchen: “Ezra?”

“Yeah, Ian? I’ll be right there,” he quickly hit pause and started to get up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come in there. Just warning you, though, I might not be what you’re expecting…”

That was weird, Ezra thought. He turned as the door opened and a tall man, probably in his mid-forties stood in the doorway. He was neatly dressed in a khaki button-down shirt and jeans. His hair thinning, but still a light brown matching the stubble-length facial hair. Nothing out of place…

Ezra stood up to shake Ian’s hand. Ian smiled, reached out his hand and moved quickly into the room and walked right through a dining table chair that had been pulled out a bit.

Ezra’s eyes became huge and he went pale. Ian stopped and looked down to see the back of the chair bisecting his torso. “Shit,” Ian said flatly. Then, taking a small step forward to clear the chair, put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “So, this is awkward.”

“You… this….” Ezra pointed to the chair. “You…”

“Yeah, this didn’t go how I was hoping,” Ian said sheepishly.

Ezra looked around the room franticly, gauging the distance to the front door…

“Ezra,” Ian put his hands up, “Let me explain…”

“You’re… you’re….”

“A ghost, yeah.” Ian said, crossing the living room and sitting heavily in the loveseat opposite the couch Ezra had stood up from. Elbows on his knees, Ian smiled sadly. “Can we talk?” When Ezra just stared open-mouthed, Ian took it as a good sign that he hadn’t yet bolted. “Please, Ezra. Have a seat.”

Ezra had contemplated bolting. It was the rational thing to do. Sensible even. But he hadn’t… So, at Ian’s words he tentatively sat down.

Ian’s smile warmed. “Thank you. I… uh… I don’t know what I was thinking,” he started. “The away-on-business thing? Opening and closing the garage, coming in through the kitchen…” He laughed, “I genuinely thought I might be able to shake your hand and keep the charade going.” Sighing he stared at his hands folded in front of him and continued. “But, no, that was dumb.” Raising his head to meet Ezra’s eyes, he said, “I haven’t been away on business. I’ve been here the whole time. The footsteps upstairs? That was me.”

“You’re… you’re a ghost,” as the words left his mouth Ezra realized how silly it sounded, yet was grateful he managed to form words at all.

“I am,” Ian said. I died six months ago. I was shooting the ghost town of Kolmanskop in Namibia.”

Ezra stared blankly.

“I’m a photographer. Freelance, mostly. I sell a lot to National Geographic, Outside, that kind of thing. You probably noticed the pictures?” he gestured to the framed photos of stunning landscapes. “Kolmanskop is an abandoned town that’s being swallowed by the shifting desert sands.” His gaze grew distant as he described, “I was on the second floor of this house trying to shoot the neighboring buildings with the attic window as a frame when the floor gave out. Broke my neck. The sand covered me in days.” He sighed. “They may find my body someday. Or maybe not. But I came back here and found out I could get online and even appear sometimes,” he gestured to his form. “It takes a lot out of me, and I’m sure I’ll be…” he searched for the word. “Incorporeal for the next few weeks, but I figured we needed to meet face to face… even if one of the faces was translucent,” he gestured to himself.

Ezra’s mind swam with so many questions, but only one came out: “Why?”

“Why come back?”

Ezra nodded.

“You’ve met Joan? In the ADU in the back?”

“Mrs. Armstrong? Yeah. She made me cookies when she saw me move in.”

“I saw that,” Ian smiled. “She’s sweet like that. I’ve known her most of my life. She was friends with my parents and then looked after my mom when she was going through her chemo treatments. Did you know she’s a hospice nurse?”

“No,” Ezra said. “I didn’t know that.”

Ian nodded. “She was with my mom when she passed when I couldn’t be.” His voice trailed off, the sentence carrying the hint of a much longer, sadder story. “After her husband died, I rented the ADU to her for… practically nothing. He left her with nothing but debt and after how she took care of my mom… it’s the least I can do.

“The problem is I don’t have any family, no will… if I’m dead, the house falls into probate… Joan gets evicted. I can’t live with that. I mean… I can’t not-live with that? Being online has allowed me to keep selling photos so I’m able to pay services, property taxes, etc. But there are some things I need to be here physically for – or at least I need someone here to sign for things, let the plumber in… that kind of stuff.”

“That’s the ad for the housemate,” Ezra said.

“Bingo,” Ian said. “I’ve put this meeting off because I was trying to figure out how to broach the subject.”

Ezra leaned back slowly, the initial shock settling into something else – pity, admiration, maybe both.

“So… you just need someone to keep the lights on?”

Ian nodded. “Someone to be alive on paper. To make it all look normal until… well, until it doesn’t need to anymore.”

Ezra exhaled, a shaky laugh escaping. “You know, for the rent I’m paying, I guess that’s fair.”

“Really?” Ian looked genuinely surprised. “After all this?”

“I mean, it’s a good cause. And you seem like a decent dead guy.”

Ian smiled, relief softening his features. “Thank you. I promise it’s temporary. She won’t be around forever. I just want her to have that much.”

Outside, through the window, Joan’s porch light flicked on. A shadow – her silhouette – crossed behind the curtain, moving slowly, steadily, alive. Ian turned toward the glow, his voice low.

“She leaves the light on for me, you know. Says it keeps the house feeling friendly.”

Ezra followed his gaze. “Guess she’s not wrong.”

When he looked back, the chair across from him was empty. Only the faintest indent in the loveseat cushion remained, like someone had just stood up.

Ezra called softly into the air, “See you around, Ian.”

From somewhere upstairs came the creak of a floorboard – two steps, then silence.