Three
I hurriedly drove back from the airport to the Big Sur. The half-hour drive, combined with the traffic, made me want to scream. And tonight was the Senior Prom, so the area was specifically congested. David was graduating from university tonight.
I leapt off my seat and looked over the railing separating the cars from the cliff. A plane was about halfway down, nearly touching the water. Smoke rise from it and there were sparks of flame.
I phoned the ambulance and the police. Then I sat down and waited. After ten minutes they came.
A detective-investigator wanted to question me. "How do you know about this crush? You can't see it while driving around. Who would actually lean over the railing at the Big Sur?" he asked.
"Um…" What should I say? Say that I was supposed to bring Gina home from the airport, but she didn't arrive on time? It's only nine now. Gina's flight is just supposed to land. Or open up and confess I'm a mediator? I would get locked up for my life.
"Hey, officer, my boyfriend told me a ghost told him the plane crashed. Then a ghost told me the plane crashed on Big Sur. Wait—what'cha doing with that straitjacket!?"
"Be honest. Do you have a special ability, a gift? Like Lightning Girl Jessica Mastriani ten years ago? Are you a psychic?" the guy probed.
"No, sir. Psychics see the future," I said. Or in Jessica's case, knows where missing people are.
"And you see…?" he pressed.
"The dead, sir. I'm a mediator." What the heck! I wanted to stuff that part back into my mouth! But it's too late. I could just envision myself being locked inside a ward in the mental hospital.
Instead the officer just nodded. "Interesting. We have people all around the world coming up with unique abilities like yourself."
"Actually, there's some people who can see ghosts too. Our job is to help them move on to their afterlife, grant their request," I said.
"Like housebreaking to find some relic that's stolen from them?" the officer asked, eyeing my record.
I blushed. "Most of us are good, but one guy is bad. That explains why he's rich and famous now, and why there are so many unexplained deaths in California."
"Who's the guy?" he asked.
"It's not my duty to tell you who," I said.
"Any other abilities?" he asked.
"The mediator's abilities include communication with the dead
and teleportation between their world and our own, and the ability to travel at will through time," I said.
"And…?" the officer prodded.
Aaaaaaargh! I was reminded of my weekly mediating lesson with Paul. "Enough! There are survivors out there in the crash, and all you want me to do is to give you lessons on mediating?" I shouted.
The man looked taken aback. "Sorry, Mrs. de Silva. It's just that we wanted to know everything beforehand—"
"Go. Save the victims. Before they die." I pointed and said coldly. The guy looked affronted and moved away.
"Susannah! What is going on here? You didn't leave a message, and I had no idea where you went!" Jesse cried, shoving people away to come to my side. "What's going on here?"
I merely pointed to the blue tape surrounding the crashed area. "The plane. It landed here."
Jesse nodded. "Did Gina appear?"
I shook my head. Then I started crying. Jesse pulled me close to him. "Shush. Everything's alright."
My way of answering is to roll my eyes, but who knew my eyeballs could roll so back that I…well, fainted?
