The start of the week had been a lot busier than usual, at least compared to the last few weeks bar Halloween. Despite this, it was only Ever and Taylor who had been rostered on. It wasn’t anything that they couldn’t handle, having survived the swarms of customers during the summer.

  “Thanks very much,” Ever said. He waved at the little girl holding her cone of chocolate ice cream. She looked up at him warily, hiding behind the leg of who Ever guessed was her father. He wore a dark-green blazer with a number of badges over his left breast pocket. There was also a red flower pinned to his lapel.

  The man nodded his appreciation and walked out as if he were trying to hide a limp, while holding the little girl’s hand. She pulled away at the last moment, waving to Ever before they left the ice cream shop.

  “Before you ask,” Taylor said, “that guy looked like he was an army veteran. He might have been deployed in any number of the stupid wars that have been fought over the last couple decades.”

  “Why was he–”

  “Remembrance Day is on this week.” Taylor interjected. “At the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, we pause for a minute’s silence to remember those who have fallen in battle, defending our country.”

  “Ah I see. I didn’t even have to ask, you read my mind,” he grinned.

  And you're not able to read mine, Taylor thought, glancing at him furtively. He was wiping up some stickiness on the bench, eyebrows knitted together in needless concentration.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Taylor took a breath. “Hey I’ve been meaning to–”

  Ding!

  Motherfu–

  “Good afternoon,” Taylor greeted, perfect, customer service smile on her face. “Oh did you want to have a seat first, sir? I can get you a paper menu if you like.”

  This was yet another army veteran, only much, much older than the father from before. He had many more badges too.

  “No, no,” the elderly veteran said, waving Taylor away. He moved slowly and methodically: walking cane forward, left foot, right foot, repeat. “I’m fine.”

  “He’s not fine, but this old mongrel’s never listened to me, even though I’m his captain.” The slight reverb in the new voice stopped Ever mid-wipe. It belonged to a ghost who was also dressed in formal army clothes, floating next to the old veteran. Despite not having a physical backbone, the ghost held himself with much better posture than most humans he had seen. Gazing intently at the ghost who returned fire with a lopsided smile, his identification faded in:

  Captain Fred Dunstan

  2 Feb 1936 - 5 April 1971

  “Why should I listen to you now?” The old veteran croaked, clearing his throat. “You’re dead.”

  “And you will soon be as well Lieutenant at the rate you’re going,” the ghost of Captain Dunstan barked.

  Ever looked across at Taylor, realising that she would be witnessing what appeared to be a senile old man talking with himself. "There's a ghost there," he said, pointing next to the old veteran.

  With his hands behind his back, Captain Dunstan floated towards Ever, settling right in the middle of the ice creams. “How can you see me?”