The Ghost Of Things Undone

   It was dark when I woke, and a look at the clock let me know it was midnight. Moonbeams shone through the window, painting silver stripes on the dark comforter. And there was something else, a person - or an echo of a person - just beyond the foot of the bed.
   "You cannot rest, you must not rest," the phantom muttered in sepulchral tones, a whisper from beyond.
   "You again?" I said, falling back onto my pillows. "Jeez, what do you want from me?"
   The apparition stirred, floating back and forth slowly, carried on invisible currents. "Things remain. Things you cannot avoid. You must not avoid."
   "Yeah, you told me last night, and the night before, and the night before that," I said, rubbing my eyes and hoping the ghost would fade away soon. "If this is so important that you have to wake me up four nights in a row, why can't you tell me what these things are?"
   The wisp of a presence hovered there, insubstantial as a cobweb, a ghostly hand raised to its fading chin, thinking. "You have a point. Doesn't make much sense to haunt you about your earthly tasks if you have no idea what they might be."
   "You think?" I said wearily. "So tell me already. I have to avenge the death of a friend? I have to put right some grave injustice? No wait, I have to find a way to bring you final peace. That's it, isn't it?"
   "I don't really know," the ghost said.
   "Are you kidding me?" I said. "You don't even know what you're hounding me about?"
   The spirit leaned against the foot of my bed, thoroughly confused. "They don't really give us details at Central Office."
   I pulled my pillows up, determined to at least be comfortable if I couldn't be asleep. "So they just told you to come haunt some guy named Don and didn't tell you why?"
   "I'm sorry, what was that?" the ghost said. "Don? Your name is Don? Are you sure?"
   "Pretty sure," I said. "My wallet's on the dresser over there if you want to check for yourself."
   The ghost sighed, a small chuckle escaping its ectoplasmic lips. "You're not gonna believe this. I'm supposed to be haunting a guy named Dan. Man, I'm really sorry. The bureaucracy we ghosts have to put up with... well, you can imagine."
   "Does this mean we're done?" I said. "You're gonna leave and not come back tomorrow night?"
   "Scout's honor," the ghost said, holding up three fingers.
   I flipped over, pulling the covers up to my chin. The seconds ticked by and I still felt a spirit presence, the hair on the back of my neck raising painfully as the ghost continued to watch me.
   "What now?" I asked, sitting up.
   "You don't happen to know a guy named Dan, do you?"