fandomhigh | Classic American Film, Thursday, Period 4

Ziva wasn't sure what she'd been thinking when she'd agreed to teach this class, except maybe that it might be fun to teach something new. Deep down, she wondered if it was possible that she was missing Tony, but that was just a crazy thought.

Once the students had gathered in the classroom, Ziva leaned up against the desk and smiled at them. This was a nice, big group, and she had a good feeling about that. Of course, she had good feelings about small groups too, but still. "Good afternoon, and welcome to the classic American film class," she said. Anyone who was familiar with the U.S. might notice that Ziva didn't exactly sound American, being from Israel and all, but maybe no one would say anything.

"I am Ms. David, and I see many unfamiliar faces," she continued, "so I would like to take our time today to get to know your names and a little bit about where you are coming from and why you are here, whether you are a fan of movies, or you would like to learn more about this strange country in which you've ended up, or whatever else was your reasoning. Also, I have not chosen any assistants for this class, so if you would like to volunteer, come and talk to me after class. Now, let us get started."

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"Yes," he said, nodding. "Real ones. My parents were both ghosts as were most of my friends. The graveyard was very old so there was amazing diversity at who all I knew."

What people considered to be ghosts sometimes varied, as George was discovering. Hmm.

"Were they corporeal?" she asked. "I mean, did they have bodies or was it just ... smoke?"

"They had bodies," he said after some thought. "Of course, no one else could see them, though, unless the ghosts let them. There's something called Freedom of the Graveyard that you have to be granted in order to see them. I was given that when I was an infant so I could see them when others couldn't see anything."

If they had bodies ... and if other people could see them ...

"Did they ever leave the graveyard?" George asked. "Just ... to run errands, and then come right back afterwards?"

Could someone be raised by reapers? It was probably against the rules, but the rules were stupid.

"The ghosts couldn't, no," Bod told her with a shake of his head. "The graveyard's caretaker did all of that. I was able to leave because I'm human but I stayed there because it was the only place I ever knew."

Not reapers, then. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one.

"That's sad," George said. "To just be stuck in one place like that. Unless it was a really happening sort of graveyard."

"It wasn't so bad," Bod said, shrugging. "There were many, many ghosts and I always had something to do. I didn't really need the outside world because I had everything I needed there."

"I meant them," George said. "I mean, you're here, but ... they've got years and years just in that one place, that has to get ... strange."

She'd nearly said lonely.

"I think they might be used to it," Bod said though he'd never really thought about it. "The philosophy a lot of them carried was that they lived their lives so they were content to relax in the afterlife."

So the afterlife was a graveyard in England? Rube never mentioned that. Maybe Rube didn't know, either. None of them knew where souls went, after they walked into the lights. It could be a graveyard.

Or this could be one of those ... dimensional ... whatevers that Nico had been talking about. Because he'd mentioned Hades, and Hades probably didn't hang out in graveyards when he had that whole Underworld to rule.

"That makes sense, if you've had a full life," George said slowly. "Someone where it was sudden ... they might wish they had a chance to do all the things they missed."

"That..." Bod paused, thinking back to the young people he knew and wondering if they ever felt like they'd missed life. "If they felt like that, they never let on. It might be because the graveyard was so old and they'd had time to come to terms before i got there."

"Time probably helped," she agreed, suddenly realizing how odd this conversation had to seem, to him. "So do you ... stay in touch with your ... ghosts?"

"I can't," he said and felt a little sad about that. "When I left, I lost the ability to see them. I can't see them anymore so I can't...keep in contact."

Which hurt more some days than it did others.

George had the strangest impulse to hug him, suddenly. Which was bizarre. She wasn't a hugger, and he probably wouldn't want some strange girl hugging him in the middle of class, anyway.

"I'm sorry," she said, instead, biting her lip and feeling the full weight of that. "I know what that's ... like, to ... you lose everyone. They're right there but you can't reach them any more."

She'd practically stalked her own house, after all.

"Thank you," he said and smiled sadly. "It's easier to deal with some days than it is others. I have my memories but there's always the want of more."

So ... my whole life, everything, all I get to keep are thoughts and memories? And Rube had shrugged in his Rube-like way. That's all we ever had, Peanut.

"I wish they were more tangible," she said softly.

Classic American Film, Thursday, Period 4

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