Chapter Ten:
I felt the lady that had appeared last night materialise in Susannah's room. Although I also heard her. Her scream was glass shatteringly loud. Although as Susannah was the only one who could hear it, I doubted there would be complaints. I listened to the conversation they had with interest. I didn't materialise as I wanted to give Susannah a chance to do her 'Job'. As soon as the lady had left, I materialised.
"Now that, was your best performance yet," I told her. "You seemed caring, yet disgusted." I may have been being a little hard on her, but she needed to understand about this ghost. She was very emotional, and something strong was holding her back. Almost as strong as what was holding me back. I could sense that. Susannah needed to treat this one delicately, although I doubted she would agree with me. Susannah seemed somewhat annoyed that I had chosen to turn up at this moment, and mentioned the chain rattling thing again. Really. A ghost must have some dignity, after all. In thinking off dignity, I was reminded of something. "Don't you have something to tell me?" I countered. She seemed confused, until I informed her of her father paying a visit to me. She then seemed highly embarrassed. Did she not see how hurt I was? Did she really want me gone so bad that she had to ask her father to talk to me? I was also slightly mad. She could talk to me, if she had any problems with our current arrangement. I controlled my anger though, to the best of my knowledge. I ran a hand through my hair as we talked. What she then said momentarily floored me.
"I don't mind having you around."
I was stunned. She really didn't mind the fact that the ghost of a twenty year old Spanish rancher was haunting her bedroom? Although, as she informed me, she did wonder as too why I stayed. I couldn't find the words. What was I to say? Then Susannah had the nerve to say she had hoped we could be open and honest with each other. That's when my previous thoughts came tumbling out of my mouth.
"What about you Susannah? Have you been open and honest with me? I don't think so. Otherwise, why would your father come after me?" I breathed deeply feeling both relived that I had finally said it and disgruntled that I'd had to. She seemed mortified, and assured me that she had nothing to do with it. On hearing me say that my intentions where not dishonourable however, she became interested. She wondered out loud what intentions I had. Really. She did. I threw her pillow at her, indicating for her to drop the subject. I didn't have to tell her everything. However somehow, it seemed as if I hadn't told her much. We then had a discussion about what happens to people when they die, and why neither her father nor I have moved on. Suddenly, I realised her hands were covered in something. I flipped them over and inquired about it. She told me they were poison oak. Ahhh, I remembered when my younger sister by one year, Monique, had got poison oak on her hands. She was in tears and wore elbow length gloves for a week. Although nowadays they didn't seem to be in fashion. So I gave Susannah the same advice I gave my sister. "You should try putting a poultice of gum flower leaves on them." This idea didn't appeal to her, so I suggested gunpowder. She seemed equally unimpressed. Well, I was only trying to help, as I informed her. I warned her about the woman whom had come earlier. She responded that I should drool blood. I dematerialised so she wouldn't see the hurt un my face.
