Two

"Susannah, are you alright?" Jesse asked anxiously through the phone.

I sniffed. "No."
"Listen, I don't know for sure. I was just in the airport, the luggage belt broke and the luggage all collapsed on this guy and his leg was broken, and then a ghost materialised. He said that he was supposed to come here. That's his destination. I told him that he's dead, and asked him which flight he was from. He said he took the Pam Am airway, from Brooklyn, New York, to Carmel, California. The same plane Gina was in, back from visiting her sick mother.

"I asked him what happened, and he said that they were in the middle of the journey when suddenly the captain shouted for them to wear the oxygen masks. Everyone panicked and start to wear them, but they discovered that at such altitudes the masks don't work. In ten seconds flat, everyone fainted due to lack of oxygen.

"He just said that when he woke up, he could see himself lying down, dead. He freaked out and just wished he's at the airport, and he appeared there. Right now I'm convincing him to leave," Jesse said.

If that's the case, Gina could still be alive. As far a s we know, the plane haven't crashed yet. And there aren't any tall mountains from Brooklyn to Carmel. Is there? The plane could be on autopilot.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a ghost materialising into my living room. I said goodbye to Jesse and looked up. The ghost was a pretty blond woman in her thirties.

"Hello? May I be of service?" I asked.

The ghost started. She looked around wildly. Seeing nobody, she stepped closer to me. "You can…see me?" she asked.

"Yes, and hear you and touch you too," I added.

"Why? What happened? How come only you can see, hear, and touch me, like I'm alive?" she asked.

I sighed. Ghosts. Always those questions. 'Can you see me? Hear me? Touch me?' "You're not alive, you're a ghost. And I can see you 'cause I'm a mediator. It's my job to help ghosts to move on to the eternal afterlife."

"You mean, like Sixth Sense, you've got the Gift?" she asked.

"I wouldn't exactly call it a Gift, but yes. Besides me, there are two others in Carmel. My husband, Jesse, and my mentor, Father Dominic," I said. I don't know what happened to Paul, and I don't want to know. He could be burning in hell for all I care. And Jack was in Sydney, or something.

"Help me find my daughter!" she cried. "I was on the plane from

Brooklyn—"
"Plane from Brooklyn? What's your seat number?" I asked.

"The window seat in Business class. My daughter was beside me. But at the time of the accident, she was in the toilet. When I became a ghost, I couldn't find her. Although I can see many other ghosts," she said.

Well, Gina's in the economy seat. "Did you see any black girl? In stylish clothes and all?" I asked.

"I think I saw a flash of black among the glowing ghosts," she said.

A flash of black? Surely there's some other Blacks other than Gina, right?" "What's your name? And your daughter's? And your close relatives?" I asked.

"I am called Jennifer Warren. My daughter's name is Melinda Warren. My husband's name is Wyatt Warren," she said.

"OK. I can summon ghosts by calling their names," I said.

I concentrated on Melinda Warren. Nothing. "OK," I said, "she's not answering. She had either already moved on to heaven, thinking you're there, or she's still alive," I said. Or another mediator had got her.

Jennifer nodded. "I think I'll go back to my house to look for her spirit. I can only hope she's alive."

"Don't worry. If she's injured, my husband's a doctor and can cure her," I said.

"But he can't bring her back to life," Jennifer said sadly. I bit my lip. We can, but we try not to.

With that, she disappeared. I grabbed my ghost-busting regalia (flashlight, holy bible, brass knuckles, grappling hook) and took off for the airport.

I drove there and found Jesse. "Any luck?" I asked.

Jesse shook his head. "None came to me yet. But the guy with the broken leg was OK. I'm going to the toilet. Look out for me, won't you?"

I nodded and waited. Just then, a ghost wearing a pilot's uniform, materialised. He agitatedly shouted for people to listen, but nobody saw him. Some even walked through him.

I walked up to him. "May I be of service?"

He looked at me happily. "Finally! Somebody who can see me. I have to tell you something. I flicked the plane on autopilot. It landed on the Big Sur."