Chapter Three:
I knew, of course, that Susannah would not like the idea of me staying around to
protect her from the trouble Mrs. Ackerman talked about with Mr. Ackerman quite
frequently. It was obvious that they didn't know she could speak with the
dead. I had a suspicion that most of Susannah's trouble was caused by her
ability to see and speak to the dead, as there were many deceased persons
who'd resort to violence to get what they wanted from her, whether it be for
her to steal something from one person and give it to another, or for her to
find their murderers and make certain that the police arrested them.
I sensed a great deal of anger and sadness in the poor girl. The anger was
generally directed to the spirits she mediated, and God, who made her a
mediator. The sadness seemed to stem from somewhere else, something more
personal and something much, much deeper: The death of her father. Part of her
sadness may have been that she'd had to move away from the home and friend
she'd loved, and the fact that she frequently had to lie to her mother in
order to perform her duty as a mediator.
I didn't know any of this-except for the fact that she was a
Mediator-because she'd told me. I only knew from what her family and other
spirits had said about her. I don't know if my ability to sense her sadness
and anger stemmed form the fact that I'd spent so much time as a ghost and had
developed the powers of sensing peoples emotions and telekinesis-I believe
it is called-or in the fact that I was very drawn to the girl.
She would be angry with me for staying around. She might even hit me, or find a
way to exorcise my soul, that was fine with me. It was my duty, I felt, to be
the one ghost who wanted nothing from her, except to protect her, and to
possibly relieve some of the sadness and anger she felt.
Staying around, I knew, would put me in a precarious position. I wanted to
protect her, rather than hurt her, and I wanted nothing from her, but if I
stayed too long, I may begin to have improper-and maybe even sinful-thoughts
about her, which could damn my eternal soul to hell. Was it even possible for a dead man to sin? As Susannah had said, my higher
power may have forgotten about me, if He'd left me here for a hundred and
fifty years with no contact with any living person.
Except Susannah.
I watched her sleep some more. She looked so beautiful.
I chastise myself for the thought. I cannot have immoral thoughts about her.
She may be able to see me-or speak to me, or even touch me-but she was
Alive. I was dead.
And I had a sneaking suspicion that she hated me. Or at least strongly disliked
me.
So I'd known her for a few hours, and I was already having impure thoughts
about her-my first, and hopefully last, impure thought about a woman, ever.
I wanted to hold her in my arms and assure her that I would make sure nothing or
no one would ever hurt her.
Is that even considered impure?
