Ophie's Ghosts

“They met the girl’s eyes as she stared out the window at them, they felt her gaze like sunshine on a spring day, warm and comforting, and for a moment they were seen. They existed once again. It was a heady feeling, and every specter wanted more.”

In the first interlude chapter, the third-person narrator inhabits the Pennsylvania Railroad’s consciousness and reveals the innumerable ghosts that live on the train. This formal shift introduces the ghosts’ connection to the novel’s focus on The Importance of Addressing Past Injustices. Although none have yet come forth with messages or grievances, the ghosts awaken to Ophie’s presence, hopeful that she will give attention and credence to their lost stories.

“Ophie could understand why someone would want to do that, even though she couldn’t imagine abandoning her people. The more Ophie thought about it, the harder it seemed to be colored, to have to think before doing anything, to wonder if the white folks looking at her meant her harm. No one came and burned someone’s house down in the middle of the night if that person was white.”

This passage of internal monologue conveys Ophie’s attempt to understand the complexities of social injustice. Via her own firsthand experiences, she is learning about the politics that govern the Jim Crow era. Ophie has no innate shame of being Black, but the world is teaching her that the way she looks is problematic to others. She is only 12 years old, but the violence that her family has experienced has forced her to realize the unpleasant reality that being Black in this social context means fighting for independence, freedom, and autonomy—human rights that her white counterparts are guaranteed without question.

“Mrs. Caruthers was a rattlesnake. Not literally, of course. But Ophie had learned that the best way to survive in this world was to treat white folks, especially important white folks, the same way she treated snakes: cautiously, and with respect, whether or not they deserved it.”

The way Ophie thinks about Mrs. Caruthers emphasizes the novel’s complex examination of racism amid the Jim Crow era. In this scene, Ophie is using her intellect and wit to make sense of who Mrs. Caruthers is and find a way to navigate the impossible power dynamics that govern their relationship. She compares the woman to a rattlesnake, a metaphor that underscores Mrs. Caruthers’s untrustworthy, volatile nature and conveys Ophie’s need to be careful when interacting with her. The metaphor also implies that Mrs. Caruthers is inherently poisonous and deadly, a fact that proves true once the details of Clara’s demise finally come to light.

“She stood there, waiting for the ghost to say something, anything. He had come to find her, after all. Or at least, that’s how it felt to Ophie. But the boy said nothing. Instead, after a long moment he turned toward the stairs and disappeared. But not before Ophie saw the seeping, bloody welts crisscrossing his back.”

Ophie’s first interaction with the boy ghost Colin underscores the importance of addressing past injustices. She does not yet know what happened to Colin and how he got the “bloody welts crisscrossing his back,” but his battered appearance illustrates the violence he has suffered. Colin’s name and memory have all but disappeared from the house, but Ophie is able to perceive his brutal history.

“Well, the way my mama used to tell it is that a city with too many ghosts can get to be a miserable place. All that negative energy builds up; there can be accidents, or worse. Wars, killing, people just generally being awful to one another. Those kinds of things can come to pass because of too many haints milling about. But that isn’t your business just now.”

Aunt Rose acts as Ophie’s archetypal guide. She is one of the only characters who acknowledges that ghosts exist, and she helps Ophie make sense of who they are and what they want. This scene of dialogue reiterates the novel’s theme of the importance of addressing past injustices. The cities are filled with ghosts, each of whom carries a dark, difficult past. Their spectral presences are evidence of the city’s brutal history.

“‘A good girl knows her place and minds her manners. You might be a bit young to know what that means, but I’m sure you get my drift.’ Cook pursed her lips and shook her head. ‘You don’t want to risk your position over a friendship you have no business making.’”

Cook’s warning to Ophie about how to conduct herself at Daffodil Manor furthers the novel’s theme of Work as a Pathway to Agency and Exploitation. Ophie understands the importance of her job to helping Mama save for their own home; however, this job is also restrictive and traumatic. She cannot behave like the child she is, and she must submit to the Carutherses’ demands, no matter how brutally they treat her.

“But…what if the truth just pushed her mama further away? Ophie wasn’t sure what she would do if Mama once again chided her for being too dreamy and making up fairy stories. She felt alone enough as it was.”

Ophie’s inability to communicate openly with her mother about her experience of seeing ghosts protracts her coming-of-age journey and hinders her grieving process. She cannot express her wonder and confusion over her father’s death or ask her mother for guidance regarding her ghostly interactions. She is compelled to keep these important aspects of her experience from her closest family member, which only intensifies her loneliness.

“Ophie knew that colored folks had not always been free, and she understood that her work for the Carutherses resonated within the same patterns of history, even if she was paid a modest wage. But if she tried to read something else Mrs. Caruthers would snap at her, and so she read the irksome tomes until the old woman drifted off.”

Ophie’s meditations on her job at Daffodil Manor reiterate the idea of work as a pathway to agency and exploitation. Ophie is learning about the world via her firsthand experiences under the Carutherses’ harsh governance. She lacks agency in this context and feels exploited by Mrs. Caruthers, but she cannot speak up or protest lest she jeopardize her family’s future.

“The young woman gave Ophie one last sad, wistful smile, and then vanished from sight completely, leaving Ophie with nothing but questions. But beneath them all was a feeling she would not lose for a long while after—a deep and profound sadness that the best thing about Daffodil Manor was a dead woman.”

Ophie’s connection with the ghost Clara contributes to the novel’s theme of Curiosity and Exploration as Survival Tactics, as meeting Clara changes Ophie’s life at Daffodil Manor. She feels drawn to the ghost because Clara has a vibrant, youthful energy and has suffered an unjust fate. Ophie quickly becomes invested in her story because she feels that solving the mystery of the murder gives her a sense of meaning and purpose.

“If she couldn’t ask any living person at the manor about Clara, there was another option for Ophie, of course. The ghosts. And one ghost in particular would surely know what had happened to Clara: Clara herself. All she had to do was find her again. This was how Ophie came to know how well and truly haunted Daffodil Manor was.”

Ophie’s interest in the ghosts of Daffodil Manor propels the narrative. If Ophie were afraid of the ghosts, she would be reluctant to interact with them. Instead, she trusts her instincts and uses her wit and intellect to form connections with her spectral companions. She decides to use her paranormal skills to help Clara, instead of letting her unique perceptions scare or impede her. She rebels against others’ expectations and carves a path for herself and Clara.

“Oh, folks most definitely can be haunted. That’s why I told you to carry around salt and an iron nail. You don’t want haints sticking to you. If they do, you’d get a chill and take ill, because the haint would slowly begin to sap your energy.”

Aunt Rose’s advice about ghosts foreshadows the fact that Clara will haunt and possess Penelope later in the novel. Ophie relies on her aunt for guidance as she gradually acquaints herself with the Daffodil Manor ghosts and seeks clues to Clara’s murder. Toward the end of the novel, Ophie will remember these words of wisdom as she seeks to understand Penelope’s odd behavior and Clara’s intensifying demands.

“Tears slid down Ophie’s deep brown cheeks, […] all the feelings she’d tried to keep at bay overwhelming her. It wasn’t right. Her mama had gone cold and her daddy was dead and she saw ghosts everywhere she went, and even those ghosts had no time for her unless they wanted to yell at her or boss her around. All Ophie wanted was a friend, someone to share her troubles with.”

Ophie displays her vulnerability in this scene, which conveys how her traumatic circumstances are weighing on her. Ophie is used to quashing her emotions and staying strong for Mama. However, in this moment, Ophie is overwhelmed by the injustice that both she and Clara are experiencing. She wants to be close to Clara, but Clara is a ghost. Likewise, Clara wanted the chance to be young and happy, but the Carutherses robbed her of this opportunity. Neither character has the agency they deserve.

“So, that was exactly what Ophie was going to do. When she thought about it that way, that talking to Clara was about justice and fairness, the bucket she heaved up the narrow staircase to the dusty, disused attic didn’t seem quite so heavy.”

Ophie’s internal monologue while cleaning the attic reiterates the novel’s theme of curiosity and exploration as survival tactics. Ophie is devoted to solving the mystery of Clara’s fate because she believes that Clara deserves “justice and fairness.” The image of the bucket growing lighter conveys the relief and strength that Ophie feels when she focuses on helping Clara for Clara’s sake.

“Here she was, unloved and neglected, dusty from disuse and filled with memories everyone would rather avoid. Didn’t she provide an excellent hiding spot for games of hide-and-seek? Weren’t her rafters strong and straight, holding aloft the roof and keeping everyone below safe and dry? No one cared.”

In this passage, the third-person narrator inhabits the attic’s consciousness, creating the sense that the space has a mind, life, and history of its own. The attic has seen and experienced many things, but it feels “unloved and neglected” because it is physically isolated from the rest of the house. The attic therefore represents the past, and it is in danger of being forgotten and dismissed because the Daffodil Manor residents have no explicit reason to attend to it. The same is true of history at large, and this passage thus develops the theme of the importance of addressing past injustices.

“And yet, there was Clara, beaming at her, the prettiest person living or dead Ophie had ever met. If the ghost was mad, didn’t she have a right to be? Her life had been cut short, and no one even knew she’d been killed. Both Richard and Cook had said that Clara ran off, which meant that everyone had forgotten her, her end an unacknowledged tragedy.”

Ophie imagines what it must be like to be Clara, and the passage conveys her capacity for empathy. Ophie has not had Clara’s experiences, but she is able to sympathize with the ghost’s past and identify with her suffering. Her investment in Clara’s story is inspired by her authentic desire to help others.

“‘Don’t disappoint me again,’ Mama said, ignoring the tears tracking down Ophie’s cheeks. ‘Now get in there and be sweet as molasses to Mrs. Caruthers, and pray she doesn’t dismiss you for your negligence.’ And then Mama turned on her heel and headed back to her cleaning duties.”

Mama’s desperation to retain her and Ophie’s jobs complicates their mother-daughter relationship. In this scene, she is scolding Ophie for misbehavior at work and cannot acknowledge her daughter’s emotional distress because she fears that losing their jobs will worsen their circumstances. The moment reiterates the idea of work as a pathway to agency and exploitation. Ophie feels exploited by Mrs. Caruthers, but Mama demands that she endure the woman’s abuse so that the family can earn enough money to improve their circumstances in the future.

“She felt the same way about the memory of her daddy. When they had first gotten to Pittsburgh, thinking about Georgia and her life there had made her chest squeeze tight as she fought the tears that would inevitably come. So she just didn’t think about it. Because that was easier. But now, she wondered if she had been wrong.”

Ophie’s grieving process is a metaphor for her people’s history. For Ophie, confronting her sadness over Daddy’s death is too painful, so she ignores it. Over time, however, she realizes that denying her pain doesn’t make it go away—it only causes the wound to fester. The same is true with her people’s history of being exploited, as ignoring the painful history of enslavement and subjugation does not undo it and only leads to cycles of violence.

“But she also understood that sometimes the world was just a little bit more complicated and grown folks liked to operate in absolutes. Right, wrong. Dangerous, safe. Sometimes a body had to go through a little danger to get to the safety. Helping Clara get justice was the right thing to do, and just like Aunt Rose’s mama, Ophie intended to do the right thing, even if it was hard.”

Ophie must learn to use her own mind and trust her own instincts as she comes of age over the course of the novel. At the start of the narrative, Ophie is hesitant to take risks, speak up, or form her own opinions. At this juncture of the novel, however, she is learning that she can defy authority if it means fighting for justice and truth. She respects Cook, Aunt Rose, and Mama, but she does not always agree with them. As a curious, deep-thinking adolescent, she is forming her own moral code.

“She had made a promise, back in Georgia, that she wouldn’t bring up the fact that she could see spirits ever again. But it was getting harder and harder to pretend, to keep this part of herself locked away from her mama. The dead were everywhere. And now they would be living in a house full of ghosts.”

Ophie and Mama’s move into Daffodil Manor intensifies Ophie’s self-discovery journey. For months, Ophie has hidden the truth about her relationships with ghosts to avoid upsetting those around her—particularly Mama. Moving into Daffodil Manor means it will be harder for Ophie to quash her instincts and conceal the truth. This passage foreshadows her decision to speak up to the adults in her life in the name of truth and justice.

“‘She’s white,’ Penelope said, glaring at the door. ‘The sooner you learn that nice white folks are few and far between, the easier your life will be, kiddo. At least, they’re not nice to girls like you and me.’”

Penelope’s advice reiterates the hostile circumstances that Ophie is forced to navigate at every turn. She is constantly combating white supremacy, and she sometimes needs someone like Penelope to remind her that their lives as Black girls are not governed by fairness or equality. Penelope speaks to Ophie in a candid, forthright way, as she is Ophie’s peer.

“Ghosts, it seemed, were like painful truths—you could ignore them, try to keep them secret, but sooner or later, they were going to come out, for better or worse. What sort of painful truth was hiding in Clara?”

Ophie’s internal monologue reiterates the importance of addressing past injustices. Ophie has learned that the ghosts she interacts with represent all of the buried truths, hurts, and crimes of the past. Just like ignoring her father’s death doesn’t alleviate Ophie’s grief, she realizes that ignoring the ghosts won’t make them go away.

“Clara’s life had been taken unfairly, but it wasn’t fair of her to take Penelope’s in return. Clara was in pain, and Ophie promised herself she’d help her; but first, she had to find a way to get the ghost out of Penelope’s body.”

Ophie’s reflections on Clara and Penelope convey her deep sense of right and wrong and illustrate her devotion to justice. Ophie cares for Clara but does not want her to hurt Penelope. She believes that both girls deserve a chance and deserve help. Her ability to treat them equally captures the depths of her moral character.

“I offered her money to never see you again, Richard. To leave and never come back. And she said no. How dare she! She told me that I would never understand what it was that you shared, that you wouldn’t care that she hadn’t always been a white woman. As if she could just decide to be white!”

Mrs. Caruthers’s confession acts as the novel’s denouement. In this scene, Ophie reveals the truth of what happened to Clara, which forces Mrs. Caruthers to come out with the truth. The moment breaks the narrative tension and ushers the novel toward its resolution. This passage also shows how effective Ophie’s detective work has been, as she has given Clara peace and brought Mrs. Caruthers to justice.