Fisher waited patiently while, looking ridiculous, Ita gave her parents some long needed affection. No one had ever taken a metting this well before. Ita was a special girl, there was no doubt about that.
When Ita asked where her parents "went", Fisher didn't know what to tell her. That was something most dead people didn't talk about and Fisher had never asked. It didn't matter to him if there was a heaven or hell, a god or a devil. You had to get through life first.
"They drift," Fisher told her, explaining what Streva and Riden couldn't seem to. Sometimes, the dead seemed completely unaware that there was an existence outside of the living, since so many ghosts spent so much time obsessing over ones they'd left behind. Fisher played with one of the eight chains on his parachute-sized black Hot Topic canvas jeans, complete with a billion chain, zipper and hiking clip accessories. "They're looking at each other like they don't know what to say." He shrugged, not looking at Ita. "I get that a lot. Sometimes they just forget... where they were. I never really ask about where they come from, and most don't want to talk about it.
"But I don't think it's a bad place," he explained, just in case she started to worry. "I just think maybe they're not allowed to remember. Like there's things people aren't supposed to know before they die." He looked at Streva and Riden again. "They look pretty happy, though. Which is saying something. Most ghosts just look... sad. And lost, maybe." His pants accessories were slick with wetness, more than likely thanks to Ita. "Anything else you wanted to say?" He didn't want to rush her- he knew how hard this was, and that she was probably more happy now than she had been in years- but he also couldn't sit there forever and translate.