The first time it happened during the evening they all got one hell of a shock, except him.
They were all sitting around watching television when he sauntered in looking for his scarf. “Scarf, scarf,” he whispered and spent an age rummaging through a pile of newspapers.
Maybe he thought he’d left it there, who knows? Izzy, that’s his sister, started screaming. He said nothing. Mum looked as though she was going into cardiac arrest, so he moved over and put his arm around her.
“It’s OK,” he said, “It doesn’t last long. He’ll give up in a minute and leave.”
Wide eyed and shaking, she asked, “You know this, how?”
“Oh! It’s happened a few times. I was pretty upset the first time myself, but I guess I’ve just got used to it. He was always losing things. You know that, right?”
“Yes, but this…”
At this point Dad threw his arms up and stormed out.
Mum blew her knows and said, “You’ve seen this before?”
“Yeah, usually during the day though, when you’re at work and she’s at school.”
They both looked over at his younger sister, who had stopped screaming and had slipped into some zombie-like state.
“The last time it happened,’ he said, “Dad came into the garage looking for his car keys. I tried speaking to him, but it was like he didn’t even know I was there. The other times it was his hat, his glasses and his wallet. It’s always the same; he turns up mumbling about some item he’s lost. I guess he just never made it over. To the other side, I mean.”
She dabbed at her eyes again. “Oh! The poor dear. I remember the feeling I had at the funeral, that he wasn’t really gone. It made me feel quite stupid, but now I know.”
He smiled. “Right.”
She whispered, “But what can we do?”
“Nothing really. He’s not doing any harm, and I reckon the day he shows up looking for his life, the penny will drop.”