Reginald was pleased when the doctor poked his head out of the door leading to the waiting room. “Reginald? I’ll see you now.”

Reginald had just finished his insurance paper work and handed it to the nurse who didn’t look up from the keyboard she was absorbed in. “Have a seat,” she spoke in a monotone practiced voice. “The doctor will call you when they’re ready.” Reginald didn’t think she even knew she was speaking words, the speech was so rote.

“Kids,” he thought. “Would a little customer service and a smile kill her?” he wiped his head with a handkerchief. He knew the air conditioning should be on, but he couldn’t stop sweating.

So when the door opened and the doctor called his name before Reginald even had a chance to sit down… things were looking up. “I’m doctor Collins,” the tall man said to Reginald as they walked to the examination room. Flipping through the documents he said, “It looks like you’re here for a routine physical?” He opened the door to the exam room and motioned for Reginald to enter.

“That’s right, yes. Look, I don’t want to sound ungrateful,” he started, “But where’s doctor Cunningham? I was supposed to see doctor Cunningham. I’ve seen doctor Cunningham for years.”

Doctor Collins flashed him an empathetic smile that Reginald felt was genuine. “We’re swamped back here right now. I’m filling in for some of the routine appointments so he can focus on the more serious cases.”

“Oh,” Reginald said, “I guess that’s okay. I mean, I heard this younger generation doesn’t want to work after the whole pandemic thing. Would rather collect unemployment…”

“Well,” Doctor Collins said, “I wouldn’t know anything about that. We actually lost some really great folks to COVID.”

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that…” Reginald stammered.

“It’s been rough but we’re making due. Anyway,” he looked at the clipboard with Reginald’s paperwork on it, “it looks like nothing significant has changed since you were in last year…”

“No, but I’ve been having really bad acid reflux all week, no matter what I eat or don’t eat. Just recently I’ve been having tingling in my left hand…”

“I could tell when you walked in that there was a problem,” Doctor Collins said when a knock came at the door.

The nurse knocking didn’t wait for a response and opened the door. “Sir,” she said to Reginald, “You aren’t supposed to be back here. Doctor Cunningham will get you when he’s ready…”

“But, Doctor Collins here–”

“Is this a joke? Doctor Collins died last year from Covid.”

Reginald went pale and started hyperventilating as he turned to look at Doctor Collins.

“She’s right,” Doctor Collins said.

The nurse turned to Doctor Collins and let out an ear-piercing scream. Doctor Collins smiled and disappeared as Reginald fell back on the table unconscious.

“Your husband was suffering from what we call slow-onset myocardial infarction,” Doctor Cunningham explained to Reginald’s wife. “Fortunately, for some reason he was already in the room with the newest defibrillator and the nurse was able to administer treatment immediately. It’s the only reason he’s alive.”

We’re swinging to the opposite end of the father figure spectrum for this one!

As a ten-year-old boy, you can imagine the excitement my eight-year-old brother and I shared when we moved into the place on Tulip Avenue. We didn’t believe our dad when he told us we would each have our own rooms. Or that they were on the second floor! But I’ll never forget when we drove up to the old place set back from the other houses on the block at the end of the street.

After being cramped in a two bedroom apartment for as long as I could remember, the two story craftsman house set among ancient coast live oak trees seemed like something out of a fairy tale. I distinctly remember my mom asking how we could afford it, and my dad telling her it had been on the market forever, that there were things that needed fixing up, this and that, and even as a kid I could tell she wasn’t buying it. But I could also tell she didn’t want to call him on it in front of my brother and me. Later that night, when I was supposed to be asleep I heard them talking.

“Haunted? Seriously?” my mom asked.

“That’s what the real estate agent said. He was deadly serious about it. Said the place kept getting resold and resold… apparently it’s got a reputation and they had to really come down on the price.”

“Like way down into our price range? That’s like off a cliff,” she laughed.

“Well… yeah. And there really are some serious things that need fixing – I need to get the roof looked at before winter, and there’s some foundation issues…”

“That sounds pretty serious. Are you sure it’s safe?”

“It is,” he said.

It wasn’t. But he had no idea what he’d gotten us into.

The backyard held the one thing my brother and I were most excited about. Built ten feet off the ground around the massive truck of an ancient oak tree was a treehouse. Let me remind you, we were two boys and there was a treehouse in the yard of our house.

But from the first time I climbed the ladder rungs hammered into the tree to the little porch and opened the door I knew we weren’t alone.

Mostly they moved things. Tommy would set his army men up in dramatic tableaus only to come back the next morning to find the army men positioned completely differently. We chalked it up to animals getting in through the window openings, but none of the army men were ever tipped over or knocked off the little table – they were all upright…. Just moved around.

After we’d lived there for a while I think the ghosts that lived in the treehouse felt more comfortable with Tommy and me because we’d catch movement out of our peripheral vision. More than once I’d hear laughter from the opposite side of the tree house that Tommy and I were playing in. But we never felt threatened or like the ghosts were evil. Honestly, it felt like we were at recess at school – kids all around doing their own thing. We just couldn’t see them.

Once Tommy and I were fooling around and I grabbed the action figure he wanted and ran through the door of the treehouse trying to keep it away from him. In my hurry, though, I managed to hit the small gap between two railings on the porch; where I expected to push off a railing I was met with empty air… and a ten foot fall to the ground below. Only I didn’t fall. I started off the edge but felt hands arrest my fall. For a moment I teetered precariously on the edge of the porch and then the hands pushed me back until I caught my balance. Tommy watched the whole thing and asked, “What just happened?” I could only shake my head in disbelief.

Our dad had a temper made worse when he was drinking and his drinking started getting bad after we moved into the Tulip Avenue house. As his moods would darken the tree house became our sanctuary. In hindsight, I don’t think he was acting completely on his own – there are a lot of stories from the Tulip Avenue house.

I don’t remember what we did to set him off. I don’t know if it was Tommy not cleaning his room, or we left lights on – I genuinely don’t remember. But I remember his anger. I remember Tommy and I running out of the house and scurrying up into the tree house. Dad followed us out into the yard.

“You kids think you run this place!” he yelled at us. “I’m going to tear that goddamn treehouse down and where are you going to go then? Huh?”

We didn’t come back into the house until he’d passed out on the couch watching the Late Show. We were worried about the treehouse but I convinced Tommy that dad wouldn’t remember his threats and we’d be fine.

He remembered.

He was still asleep when we left for school that next morning. But when the bus dropped us off after school we hurried around to the back yard only to find the treehouse had been reduced to rubble around the base of the tree. Dad sat in a lawn chair smoking a cigarette facing the rubble (which he only did when drinking), his tshirt sweat stained, and a number of empty beer cans around the chair.

Tommy had started crying, and I think that’s what first alerted my dad to our presence. He turned around with a really evil grin on his face – it didn’t look like my father. “How do you like your goddamn treehouse now?” He started laughing – again, not like my dad normally laughed. Tommy ran off for his room and I followed because I didn’t want to be anywhere near my dad.

A week later, though, we had a new treehouse.

After my dad died and the Tulip Avenue house was a memory for the three of us, my mom told me what happened. That night Tommy and I had snuck back into the house with our dad sleeping on the couch in a drunken haze was the last time he slept in the house for a week.

Mom said he claimed he was being tormented. “Goddamn kids are around the bed!” he said the first night.

“Mike, there’s no one here. Tommy and Dale are in their rooms.”

“Can’t you see them?!” he said staring frantically around the room. “Seriously, Christy? There’s like a dozen of them! You don’t hear them laughing and singing?”

My mom didn’t hear or see anything. She was convinced my dad was having some kind of psychotic break. He eventually left the room, but mom said she could hear him walking around the downstairs saying, “Stop following me!” and “Leave me alone!” until he eventually left the house entirely and slept in the cab of his truck at the jobsite he was working on that week.

The next night was the same. Mom said he had started drinking harder than usual, but everything he would start to nod off he’d jerk awake and yell at one of the invisible children to leave him alone. Mom hid his keys because he was so drunk, but she said he kept doing that nod-off-jerk-awake-yell-at-kids thing until the sun came up.

For our part, during that time Tommy and I effectively hid in my room coming out only to eat and go to school. In hindsight I think we were mourning the loss of our sanctuary as much as we were trying to stay away from our father.

Mom said the whole tormenting lasted about a week and my dad became more and more delirious from sleep deprivation. Finally, in the middle of the night after being tormented she said he yelled, “Fine! I’ll rebuild it! Is that what you want? Will you leave me the fuck alone then?!”

Apparently, they let him sleep that night.

When the school bus dropped us off the next day we could hear dad running one of his saws. We went around the back to find him and our uncle Andy rebuilding our treehouse.

“Hey guys!” Uncle Andy called to us. “What do you think?”

We were speechless.

For his part, so was our dad. His eyes were bloodshot and he worked silently, but the children let him sleep that night. Dad and Uncle Andy were finished the next day and we were up the new ladder the second they were done. From up in the treehouse I could hear Uncle Andy say to my dad, “Looks really good, Mike.”

My father grunted and walked away mumbling, “Fucking kids better leave me alone.”

“Mike?” Uncle Andy said shocked. “What’d Tommy and Dale do?”

“Not those kids. Not those kids…”

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.