It's times like this that really, really make me hate my job. "Where's
Corey? Where's COREY?"
I grabbed her shoulders, desperately wishing that Father Dom wasn't there so I could slap some sense into her. "Listen to me!" I cried, shaking her violently. "He's probably still alive, unlike you, but to be absolutely sure I need you to calm down and tell me who Corey is."
She didn't listen. Wow. I wasn't surprised at all. I should have slapped her. Things began to shake as she bawled on about Corey. At which point Jesse materialized in the office. Whaddya know? She was screaming so loud she woke the dead. Or, at least, disturbed him, as he had Los Hermanos Karamazov, por F.M. Dosteyevsky. Jesse scares me sometimes. He raised his eyebrow at the girl.
The girl saw this, and dashed into his arms. "Corey! It's you!"
His eyes grew wide. "No, Señorita, my name is Jesse." He smiled a completely gorgeous smile. "But I can help you find this Corey, if you wish. This girl here, Susannah, can speak to both the dead and the living. She is quite an asset."
I felt like crying now: All I was to him was an asset. And not only that, he wasn't pulling out of Ms. Corey's warm embrace, or telling her I was his girlfriend, which I kind of was but not to him I guess. Hey! You'd feel like crying too.
The girl trembled as Jesse wiped away her tear. And I don't blame her, Jesse is one gorgeous man. MY man. "Now," he soothed quietly, "who is Corey?"
"Corey Vasquez. He's my boyfriend."
Two things peeved me about this: one, she tells my totally hot Spanish boyfriend the answer, but will she tell me? Noooo. Of course not. That would make things easy. And two, she was a skank! She was full on cuddling my man when she has one of her own. "Do you remember if he was with you when you died?" I asked, rubbing a temple to get that pain out of my skull.
"Died? What do you mean, died? Am I dead? Why didn't you tell me?"
Some people just don't get a clue. "Umm, yeah, we've been telling you that for the past hour."
She didn't take this last bit of news so well. "How can I be dead?" she wailed.
"You stopped breathing and carrying out homeostasis!" I cried back, coining a term I'd used on my bio project.
"Susannah!" Father Dom exploded. "Forgive her, she's not very sensitive, I'm afraid."
Hee hee, I became very happy all of a sudden. Jesse stood up straighter. "It isn't that she's insensitive, Padre. She is trying to make the girl understand in a blunt approach. All other tactics have failed so far, right, Susannah?" My knight in a cowboy suit! I nodded curtly, still happy that Jesse stood up for me.
"Jesse, please!" Father Dom moaned, turning to the girl. His eye caught on the newspaper on his desk. "Is your name Lauren Pharris?" he asked, reading an obituary.
She nodded.
"Well, Lauren, you died drowning in a riptide. Your boyfriend, Corey, I assume, tried to save you. He says you'll be dearly missed. and. oh my. According to this, he is the great-great-great-great-great-grandson to Luisa de Silva."
Jesse nearly fainted. Instead, all the color rushed from his face, leaving him white as a ghost. as a ghost is supposed to be, I guess. "Mi hermana, my sister," he explained. Father Dom held up the article on the front page, "Celebrating the History of Carmel", complete with interviews of the descendants of the founders of the town.
"That would explain why he looks like you," I muttered. "Come on, Lauren. Let's go talk with Corey. What's the message?"
"I don't like you. Can he do it?" she asked, gesturing to Jesse. He had just wrapped his hand around mine so subtly Father Dom hadn't noticed. In .0000001 seconds he had removed his hand and blushed.
"No, because Jesse is dead too. Susannah is still alive, she can relay the message. Although I have no doubt that Jesse will be there."
I could feel the daggers Father Dom was shooting at me with is eyes. "So, where does Corey live?" I asked, avoiding the Father.
"You really look like Corey, you know," she sang as the three of us walked down the street. Apparently he knew the whole episode with the embrace and tear-wiping had peeved me, because now he was walking so that our arms were laced together, looking to anyone living that wasn't a mediator that I had my hand in my pocket, but to the rest of us I was in quite a lovely position with a lovelier tanned Spanish rancher. And my did I feel good. Which is what he was going for, I guess.
Jesse turned slightly to the side. "I wouldn't know. My sister Luisa looked nothing like me. She looked like our mother. I looked like Father."
He suddenly stopped. His eyes flooded with worry, I could tell. Suddenly he leaned over and kissed my earlobe gently, whispered, "Te amo," and continued walking.
God, I need to learn Spanish.
"So, what's it like to be with someone who's alive when you're dead? Could I do that with Corey?" she bubbled on.
"No, Susannah is a mediator. She can see and touch the dead. Corey is not."
"How do you know?" she asked, creating another pensive and worried look on Jesse's face. "Here we are!" she chirped again, before Jesse could kiss me again. It was a huge house, and very old, like, from the 1800's. And that's when it hit me. Why when Jesse saw this place, his face went very gentle. Why he was looking at the wood of the porch with interest, as if remembering. Because he was. This was his house.
I leaned over. "You lived here?" I whispered.
"No," he answered. "This was the servants' house. And the ranch hands."
My turn to feel creeped out. This was the servant's quarters??? The real house must have been, like, the size of Carmel! I knocked on the door. Corey answered, and Lauren wasn't kidding. This kid was Jesse. To a tea. Except that he didn't have that cute little scar. I felt a wave of contempt. My hot Latino boyfriend had a cute scar. Hers didn't.
"Corey?" I asked for good measure, even though I knew the answer. He looked up into my eyes, as opposed to looking as if his shoes were the most interesting things in the world. "My name is Suze. I'm a mediator. I came with a message from Lauren."
His eyes grew wide, showing off their chocolate brown color, so much like Jesse's, then filled with tears. "Don't mock me," he said in a silky voice, so much like my Jesse's. This was really getting weird.
"I'm not mocking you," I screamed out of frustration. "Lauren, what did you want me to tell this guy anyway?"
She was crying too, but ghosts don't really have liquid tears. "Tell him I would have said yes, because I love him very much. And I want him to move on with his life, and not worry about me all the time."
I relayed the message, just as Father Dom said I was supposed to. And that's when he broke into sobs, tears staining his black silk shirt. I reached out a hand to comfort him, but another hand clenched my shoulder. Jesse looked pissed. "Vamos," he snapped, dragging me by my arm.
"Bye!" I called back. "And your great-great-great-great-great-great- uncle Jesse de Silva says hi!"
"I do not," he snarled. He dematerialized then, leaving me and Lauren standing there to walk home by ourselves. Then she disappeared. Great. She was moving on. Perfect timing! Damn. I walked home alone.
I grabbed her shoulders, desperately wishing that Father Dom wasn't there so I could slap some sense into her. "Listen to me!" I cried, shaking her violently. "He's probably still alive, unlike you, but to be absolutely sure I need you to calm down and tell me who Corey is."
She didn't listen. Wow. I wasn't surprised at all. I should have slapped her. Things began to shake as she bawled on about Corey. At which point Jesse materialized in the office. Whaddya know? She was screaming so loud she woke the dead. Or, at least, disturbed him, as he had Los Hermanos Karamazov, por F.M. Dosteyevsky. Jesse scares me sometimes. He raised his eyebrow at the girl.
The girl saw this, and dashed into his arms. "Corey! It's you!"
His eyes grew wide. "No, Señorita, my name is Jesse." He smiled a completely gorgeous smile. "But I can help you find this Corey, if you wish. This girl here, Susannah, can speak to both the dead and the living. She is quite an asset."
I felt like crying now: All I was to him was an asset. And not only that, he wasn't pulling out of Ms. Corey's warm embrace, or telling her I was his girlfriend, which I kind of was but not to him I guess. Hey! You'd feel like crying too.
The girl trembled as Jesse wiped away her tear. And I don't blame her, Jesse is one gorgeous man. MY man. "Now," he soothed quietly, "who is Corey?"
"Corey Vasquez. He's my boyfriend."
Two things peeved me about this: one, she tells my totally hot Spanish boyfriend the answer, but will she tell me? Noooo. Of course not. That would make things easy. And two, she was a skank! She was full on cuddling my man when she has one of her own. "Do you remember if he was with you when you died?" I asked, rubbing a temple to get that pain out of my skull.
"Died? What do you mean, died? Am I dead? Why didn't you tell me?"
Some people just don't get a clue. "Umm, yeah, we've been telling you that for the past hour."
She didn't take this last bit of news so well. "How can I be dead?" she wailed.
"You stopped breathing and carrying out homeostasis!" I cried back, coining a term I'd used on my bio project.
"Susannah!" Father Dom exploded. "Forgive her, she's not very sensitive, I'm afraid."
Hee hee, I became very happy all of a sudden. Jesse stood up straighter. "It isn't that she's insensitive, Padre. She is trying to make the girl understand in a blunt approach. All other tactics have failed so far, right, Susannah?" My knight in a cowboy suit! I nodded curtly, still happy that Jesse stood up for me.
"Jesse, please!" Father Dom moaned, turning to the girl. His eye caught on the newspaper on his desk. "Is your name Lauren Pharris?" he asked, reading an obituary.
She nodded.
"Well, Lauren, you died drowning in a riptide. Your boyfriend, Corey, I assume, tried to save you. He says you'll be dearly missed. and. oh my. According to this, he is the great-great-great-great-great-grandson to Luisa de Silva."
Jesse nearly fainted. Instead, all the color rushed from his face, leaving him white as a ghost. as a ghost is supposed to be, I guess. "Mi hermana, my sister," he explained. Father Dom held up the article on the front page, "Celebrating the History of Carmel", complete with interviews of the descendants of the founders of the town.
"That would explain why he looks like you," I muttered. "Come on, Lauren. Let's go talk with Corey. What's the message?"
"I don't like you. Can he do it?" she asked, gesturing to Jesse. He had just wrapped his hand around mine so subtly Father Dom hadn't noticed. In .0000001 seconds he had removed his hand and blushed.
"No, because Jesse is dead too. Susannah is still alive, she can relay the message. Although I have no doubt that Jesse will be there."
I could feel the daggers Father Dom was shooting at me with is eyes. "So, where does Corey live?" I asked, avoiding the Father.
"You really look like Corey, you know," she sang as the three of us walked down the street. Apparently he knew the whole episode with the embrace and tear-wiping had peeved me, because now he was walking so that our arms were laced together, looking to anyone living that wasn't a mediator that I had my hand in my pocket, but to the rest of us I was in quite a lovely position with a lovelier tanned Spanish rancher. And my did I feel good. Which is what he was going for, I guess.
Jesse turned slightly to the side. "I wouldn't know. My sister Luisa looked nothing like me. She looked like our mother. I looked like Father."
He suddenly stopped. His eyes flooded with worry, I could tell. Suddenly he leaned over and kissed my earlobe gently, whispered, "Te amo," and continued walking.
God, I need to learn Spanish.
"So, what's it like to be with someone who's alive when you're dead? Could I do that with Corey?" she bubbled on.
"No, Susannah is a mediator. She can see and touch the dead. Corey is not."
"How do you know?" she asked, creating another pensive and worried look on Jesse's face. "Here we are!" she chirped again, before Jesse could kiss me again. It was a huge house, and very old, like, from the 1800's. And that's when it hit me. Why when Jesse saw this place, his face went very gentle. Why he was looking at the wood of the porch with interest, as if remembering. Because he was. This was his house.
I leaned over. "You lived here?" I whispered.
"No," he answered. "This was the servants' house. And the ranch hands."
My turn to feel creeped out. This was the servant's quarters??? The real house must have been, like, the size of Carmel! I knocked on the door. Corey answered, and Lauren wasn't kidding. This kid was Jesse. To a tea. Except that he didn't have that cute little scar. I felt a wave of contempt. My hot Latino boyfriend had a cute scar. Hers didn't.
"Corey?" I asked for good measure, even though I knew the answer. He looked up into my eyes, as opposed to looking as if his shoes were the most interesting things in the world. "My name is Suze. I'm a mediator. I came with a message from Lauren."
His eyes grew wide, showing off their chocolate brown color, so much like Jesse's, then filled with tears. "Don't mock me," he said in a silky voice, so much like my Jesse's. This was really getting weird.
"I'm not mocking you," I screamed out of frustration. "Lauren, what did you want me to tell this guy anyway?"
She was crying too, but ghosts don't really have liquid tears. "Tell him I would have said yes, because I love him very much. And I want him to move on with his life, and not worry about me all the time."
I relayed the message, just as Father Dom said I was supposed to. And that's when he broke into sobs, tears staining his black silk shirt. I reached out a hand to comfort him, but another hand clenched my shoulder. Jesse looked pissed. "Vamos," he snapped, dragging me by my arm.
"Bye!" I called back. "And your great-great-great-great-great-great- uncle Jesse de Silva says hi!"
"I do not," he snarled. He dematerialized then, leaving me and Lauren standing there to walk home by ourselves. Then she disappeared. Great. She was moving on. Perfect timing! Damn. I walked home alone.