Translucent

Chapter 11: Consultation

The loud beeping sound of my digital clock jolted me from my sleep.

I reached to stop the alarm on the side table. A bloke stood at the window, opening up the shutter and the curtains. 

"What was that sound?" he flinched.

If I hadn't known now I had shared a space with a ghost of a young man, I would've freaked out more. But now seeing Cornelius appearing paler and more translucent under the sunlight, it almost seemed it went through his body, was a sight I had to get used to.

"Um, alarm clock?" I answered groggily.

"That is a strange clock indeed." he picked the digital clock up from the bedside table. "Which by the way, you still owe me a great deal of explanation about your whimsical toys, like that flat telephone of yours."

"Oh you mean, today's technology? Sure, I'll explain it after school."

But he never left my mind while I was at school. I couldn't stop thinking about him. There was just way too many questions, unsettling remarks, and sometimes, it was just his pure charm.  The class lectures sounded more like mumbles to me as my thoughts lingered to him the whole day I didn't even realise they had taken my attention away that Lorelai and Phoebe looked visibly worried, following the accident that happened the other day.

"You almost died and now you'd been zonin' out, did you 'it your head on somethin'?" Lorelai poked me after class.

"Amnesia. I'm calling it." Phoebe added, but I assured them everything was fine.

Instead of going home, I headed towards the library to meet up with Sophie after school. Lorelai would offer me a ride back home as I still hadn't been allowed to drive in Aberfeldy up to this point. If she couldn't make it, I would take a thirty-minute walk home.

As expected, the black-haired girl stood there near the computer lounge. Her large, doe eyes beamed at me.

"So?" A ghostly smile appeared on her lips. She saw this was coming.

"He's not that bad." I shrugged. "He came off rude and mean the other day, but he was getting better."

Sophie and I sneaked into one of the aisles. The lounge was packed with students doing their homework research after school hours, apparently.

"Well, what do you expect? Him being all cheered up after years of loneliness and sorrow? These creatures might be dead but that doesn't mean they lack psychological issues." Sophie explained. "So, you believe me now, don't you?"

"It's like I have a choice."

"You're a lucky lass too. It's rare to see a ghost that's quite easy on the eyes, isn't it?"

"Oh, so you've seen him?"

"Only a glimpse and that was back in the history class. As a medium, I see–well–what you can't see." Sophie sat on the sofa. "But don't worry, you'll get used to him. He's not used to the presence of a human just yet but he'll come around."

"Ugh, but he seems to be hiding something," I grunted. As much as Sophie was trying to make it sound so easy, she forgot that we were not talking about a living person. "He gave me dreams but he didn't want to explain to me about them and he seemed pretty seclusive about his past. He even got pissed at my questions."

Sophie scoffed lightly. "I wouldn't be surprised. You were not doing it right." she paused. "Subjects surrounding their death and past are generally sensitive. They'll shy away from them. Supposedly we have had a terrible past and someone pried on them, we would have felt the same way. So don't give him some hard time."

She had a point. If someone ever brought up about my mum separating with Dad, I would have felt just as bitter.

"Okay, but still, I was curious, especially after all research implied of his death around 1914," I squirmed. "World War I broke out that year. He was twenty-one when he died, well, technically that makes him 113 years old. The article I found stated that he left for the Front Line as the estate claimed bankruptcy. The Haywood family line ended in the same year. But get this: I doubt if he was killed in the trenches because if he was, why was he haunting my house? A ghost should be haunting the place they died in. Surely my house wasn't a battlefield since the war happened in France, Belgium..."

I paused to catch a breath. There was a long pause after that.

"You know, you should consider being Miss Richter's teaching assistant," she commented, seemingly amused.

"I'm serious, Sophie!"

"Alright, so what are you trying to say?"

"I was wondering if you could ask him about...how he died and his unfinished business. This is kind of like your job, isn't it? You're better at this. I'm not a professional." I replied. "Look, I'll pay you, or treat you ice cream for a week, or lunches, whatever. This is grave situation for me."

Her eyes widened. "That's nice of you, but medium or not, it won't matter. He barely knows me and it appears to me he has a closer bond with you. Even though I'm the medium, he'll still consider me much as a stranger. These beings have trust issues as much as us people do."

"But he doesn't even seem to trust me!" I protested.

"Still, you're the one that talks regularly with him. That's still a connection. It takes time before he's ready to open up. Most ghosts died not of natural causes: either getting murdered, war casualty, or something darker or more sinister, which, by the way, didn't you try the journal?"

"Yeah, except I couldn't find anything from it. Nothing." I groaned.

"Then investigate him. Play a detective. Spend some time and gain his trust then I'm sure it'll come to a time when he'll tell you everything." Sophie continued. "Dealing with ghosts is never easy. They're sensitive beings. It takes loads for us mediums to do: rounds of seances, contacting dead relatives, all to unearth the very reason that kept the spirit anchored here. Often times the spirits often wouldn't help much, as such with your case. Either way, it won't be an easy job."

Poor Sophie. She must have wielded a heavy responsibility as a medium, handling all these nasty ghosts.

"Not that I don't want to help you, Lisa, but I believe he'll be more open to you." Sophie continued. "You're lucky to be just handling one ghost. You'd bawl if you were me."

Now I realised her gift was more like a curse you could barely get away from. On top of that, there was the social alienation that came into play.

"Also keep in mind," Sophie scanned through the book spines on the shelf and picked one up. "As genuine he looks, you still need to be careful with him."

"Be careful?" I snorted.

"Well, ghosts are entities with troubled pasts, secrets, and trauma hidden in their sleeves. The stories surrounding their deaths are sometimes if not always, not settled ones. Scandalous to say the least. Debt, crime, loss of loved ones, something of them that got stolen. It's a rare occasion that these ghosts just want to see their loved ones since everyone who dies would surely be missed. But these wandering spirits have their own reasons of what anchored them in the mortal world–unfinished business, as many call it."

"I don't understand. One moment you're telling me to strengthen my bond but then, also to keep my distance?" I snort.

"The short answer is yes, don't always trust a ghost," Sophie explained. "I know it seems a bit too much for you but for now, do gain his trust and that way, he would be more open to you. Be friends, but keep a distance. Be wary that as charming they can probably be, you don't want to get too attached."

My mind lingered to the night Cornelius demonstrated his power. He intended to hurt a group of people who apparently abused his presence. He was no ordinary creature. Death seemed to have either gifted or cursed him with inhumane powers. They could be a weapon of defense or otherwise. Was he dangerous? But I believed he wouldn't hurt me, not as long as I could gain his trust.

I heaved a sigh. So as Sophie said, I had to compromise with him and when he'd trust me well enough, the missing pieces of the puzzle had to be connected.

Cornelius was nothing but a giant iceberg keeping a frozen fossil within, and it would take a while to melt.