(A/N): Chapter 3
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. The plot is mine, though.
Incredulously, I asked, "Paul was with me?"
He nodded again, reassuring what he had already announced. The usual candor associated with Paul Slater was lost as I took in the information.
"Can you explain to me what exactly happened? How I met you." I stated, still unbelieving. I've dealt with my fair share of ghosts; I understand how they work and how to mediate them. But the tables have been turned drastically.
What Hector is insinuating is impossible for a hapless mediator of my ability. I doubt time-travel is beyond the realm of possibility, even if I am blesses with the wonderful ability of mediation. A ghost could not possibly comprehend the complexities of mediator, yet alone preach about them. I've been mediating my whole life and I've yet to understand what is expected of me.
"Well," Hector began pursing his lips in thought.
He took my hand in his. "You're cold," he stated and I looked down at my hand encompassed in his. I shrugged casually; I couldn't really feel the cold.
"It's not that bad."
"Let's get you inside your… car?" The once cool metal of the car keys weighed lightly in my hands. Rattling them in my hand I drew them out. I nodded, smiling slightly to myself.
"Sure, Hector," I agreed and started towards my car.
"Jesse," he said slowly. Halting, I turned to look at him. "I prefer to be called 'Jesse.' By some anyway."
"And I prefer to be called 'Suze.'" I smiled slyly at him. "But you should know that already," I added playfully, "Anyone who knows me knows that."
"Maybe I just prefer calling you 'Susannah.' It is a beautiful name, you know."
"Yeah, if you like folk songs." Jesse's face contorted into semi-confusion before dismissing the comment.
"What's wrong with folk songs?"
I shrugged, not bothering to supply a helpful answer.
"Let's just get you somewhere not cold, Susannah," he chided.
Opening the jeep, I crawled in, setting the heat on low to compensate for the chilliness that had accumulated inside. Jesse followed me inside as well. Sitting in the car seat, he looked so foreign. The uneasiness in his face showed; the discomfort radiated from the foul expression his face took. In his time, whenever that was, cars probably didn't exist.
I smiled amusedly to myself. "Is this your first time in a car?" The incredulity penetrated my voice imagining a time before cars ever existed.
"Yes, it is, actually." Jesse warily admitted.
"Weird," I replied my thoughts still in disbelief at how old he actually was. "Anyway before you answer my questions," I started, reaching over to put the heater up a bit, "I want to ask you some things. I don't know how much you know about me, but I am a mediator and–"
"Mediator?" He leaned over the clutch in the middle and looked at me curiously. "I believe you are also a shifter; at least, your companion insisted so."
(A/N: I'm not sure how Suze and Paul introduced themselves in the books to Jesse. Let's just say they told Jesse they were shifters.)
"Um, not a shifter, whatever that is. I'm a mediator and basically, I mediate. Helping lost souls–you–is all part of the job description. In order to do that, I need to figure what is holding you back. So, just a few questions, alright? Enough for me to put the pieces together and send you on your way when you're ready."
"I think I know what is holding me back," Jesse admitted softly. Giving my undivided attention to him, I allowed for him to continue. "I needed to meet you and Paul for rescuing me that night. Since my death, I've wondered countless times if I would ever meet the two souls from the future. I needed to find you. To thank you the two of you, I suppose. I've already thanked you, Susannah. So perhaps I should just find Paul and I'll be on my way."
I stared. It's rude to stare, I know. But no ghost I have ever met actually knows what is holding him back. So, I think that the staring is to cover up my shock. He'd just made my life–albeit, temporarily–about ten times easier. "Um, yeah. That might be it. Alright then, I'll… talk to Paul tomorrow. So forget that I need to ask you anything for now. If it doesn't work, then I'll grill you. Just be here at about the same time."
"Querida, I'm not going anywhere."
"What was that?"
"Nothing," he shook his head. "So do you want to know how I met you now? If you're not going to ask me anything, that is."
"Yeah. Quite honestly, I have no idea how it would happen. I've tried working it through in my mind, but nothing seems to make sense."
Jesse released a breath–an action unnecessary for him–and began to talk. I clung to every word as he intricately explained every detail, speaking clearly; recalling his memory from long ago. If half of what he said was true, then my preconceived notions of one Mr. Paul Slater were very wrong. I always thought I knew Paul so well, but I suppose there's only so much I can know. Surely he didn't tell me everything about his life in the two miraculous weeks we spent together. Jesse said we claimed to be shifters; something I wasn't entirely sure about because I've been told I am a mediator and not a shifter.
For the first time since I broke up with Paul, I wished I hadn't been so nasty to him in the past. Who knows if he'll even want to help me now? This could all just be a set-up, another trick Paul Slater is trying to pull. Whatever it is, it's working. I'm enthralled with what happened, even if I can't recall such memories. If Paul Slater is behind all this, he has successfully fabrictaed an alternate reality–it has to based on something real, right?–that might just be better than the current one. Or maybe Paul has no hand in it at all, and Jesse de Silva is telling me the truth. If by a fluke Paul and I did travel back in time, then that would surely change events enough to erase my memory and the course of history.
Some of the details were blotchy, things that Jesse's either forgotten or never understood himself, but his knowledge on the subject is enough for me to believe him. Despite the fact I only met him twenty minutes ago, I know I can trust him. Jesse seems like the type of man with strong morals. And someone with morals does not lie, I'm guessing.
After what seemed to be an hour-long speech, Jesse stopped speaking. Hearing what he said, I knew this was the end of his story. He fell out of a burning barn, and woke up a week later in the arms of his mother, five gorgeous sisters asunder, and his father furious hidden in the shadows of his room. That night, when Jesse was well enough, he went to defend his honor by confronting Felix Diego–the antagonist of Jesse's story–only to find out that Diego had died inside the burning barn. Jesse never got the confrontation he sought.
Speechless, I drew my gaze to Jesse. His eyes were downcast, but the moonlight shone upon his face revealed one tear streak sliding down both his cheeks. I realize there is much more to this story than he is willing to share, but in time, I hope he will trust me enough to tell me the rest. Hopefully I'll indulge on the details of the life I apparently gave him.
But for reasons incomprehensible to me, I do not know why I would bother to go back in time to save the life of a ghost. Or Paul for that matter, the epitome of arrogance.
"Wow," I at last managed to speak. "Quite a life story you've got there," I whisperedm trying to lighten the mood.
"I suppose. And again, Susannah, thank you." A genuine smile appeared before his lips.
"Mm-hmm." Leaning against my seat, I closed my eyes. The whir of the heater combined with the serene sounds of the ocean mingled inside the car, otherwise silence overwhelmed.
"I suppose I should get going. It is late, and I have school tomorrow. Just meet me here tomorrow." I looked at him, and he nodded. Bitterly, I added, "And now I'm actually going to have to speak with Paul."
Jesse smiled approvingly. "I'm glad to see you still dislike him."
"With the best reasons, too," I muttered under my breath. "It was nice to… meet you."
Turning the ignition, Jesse started to dematerialize. "Likewise, Susannah. Goodnight, querida."
"Kay-ree-dah, what does that mean? You called me that earl–" When I turned to look at him, he was already gone.
Sighing, I reversed and turned to leave. "Good night, Jesse."
Review please! Leave comments on any way I may improve. Chapter 4 will be up sometime next week, I hope.