I watched as Inspector Marc Jefferson made his way into the front gate and walked up the path towards the house.
I was sitting on the sofa under the window in the parlour, feet up on the cushion and my hands resting on the top of the seat. I knew what questions he was going to ask, as he should, and what I was going to say to him. Why did I lie? Why did I report the body later than I actually found it?
I wasn't as afraid of the law catching me as I was of losing a friend.
When he pressed the doorbell, I turned around and sat straight on the sofa, slipped my legs down, hands tight together on my knees, and my heart beating faster than usual in anticipation.
"Keep calm," Iris had advised me earlier that morning, just before she had left for work. "I know you can do this. My mother will be there as a witness. I wish I could stay behind, too, but I have an important meeting to attend first thing after I arrive there. I'll be back as soon as I can to check on you and stay by your side. Okay?"
I had nodded in response and, after a few more such encouraging words and a warm embrace, she had left.
Now, I saw Mrs White walk pass the parlour to open the door.
"Welcome, Inspector! Good morning!" her cheery voice chirped.
"Good morning, Mrs White," greeting Marc in response, his voice duller than usual. "I came here about that thing we discussed. To see Patricia one more time before escorting her to the station. Has she gone to work?"
"I – of course, I remember. Please come in." A pause. "And no, she called in sick; she's right here at home."
The door closed then, with an air of finality. I couldn't help shuddering.
There were a few more exchange of words – Mrs White offered a glass of water – but, Marc insisted on seeing me.
'He sounds serious,' I thought. I covered my face with my hands, my head bent forward. 'What have I done? Why couldn't I just have told him the entire truth, instead of making him believe whatever he wanted? After what he believes about me, how hard would it be to believe that I'm actually a time-traveller?'
I felt a presence in the room with me and peeked out through my fingers – and there he stood, his eyes searching for me; when finally found me, I knew that talking to him now would be very hard. I gulped. I needed to do it, though. It was finally time my good friend knew the truth about me.
~*~
"How are you?" asked Jefferson.
I blinked at him. I couldn't believe this was the first thought that popped into his mind. Now that I snapped instantly out of my fear, I realised he had a concerned crease on his forehead as he gazed at me.
As though reading my mind, he added, "And no, don't think that I'm letting you off the hook just because I'm your friend. Not without you telling me the whole truth. Not if I'm not convinced."
I could feel a hint of nausea trying to come up from my stomach and I tried to push it down with another gulp.
"I... I'm doing OK, thanks," I replied. Suddenly remembering that he was still standing, I got to my feet. "Er, good morning, Inspector."
The man sighed. "Good morning. And no, I'm here as your friend. The guys at the station don't know I'm paying you a visit."
Somehow, this felt like a relief to me, though I should really be feeling guilty. I nodded. "T-thanks." My manners came back to me as the cloud of worry dissipated and I added, "Please, have a seat."
"Yes. Of course." He sat down at a chair nearest to him, facing me. I sat back down on the sofa. He turned to me again. "Pavlov, what have you done?"
Finally, he came to the point.
I didn't say anything at first; I simply sat staring down at the carpet covering the marble floor.
Just when I decided to open my mouth and speak, Mrs White entered the room with a tray that held two glasses of water. She placed it front of us on the centre table, before turning to me.
"I'll be in the kitchen, preparing lunch," she said, quietly. "If you need me, I'll be here until noon, before I go off to work. Iris told me she'll be back by then to be with you."
I nodded wordlessly and she left the room.
I sucked in a deep breath and let it out. I had to do this—it was now or never.
"See, Marc. The truth is not that I talk to ghosts. I..." – I reminded myself over and over that I had to do this and I cannot afford to lie to my best friend anymore – "I... The truth is, I travel between times. It's how I get first-hand information of people and events. Though I appreciate your keeping it low for me, I apologise for the misunderstanding."
The air was thick with silence; I held my breath in anticipation of his response. What would he say? Would he choose to believe me or not?
At last, he nodded once at me. "Then, why did you lie to me?"
I almost jumped from my seat in surprise. This question was unexpected. How did we get there?
"Er, pardon?" I said, stupidly.
He cleared his throat. "Look, Patricia, I came here as a friend and speaking to you because I really want to be. I want to understand you, but it seems like you've been lying to me ever since we met. I want to know if you want me to continue be by your side, help you, support you –"
I interrupted him by putting up a hand. "Wait. I'm a little lost here. Can you please explain exactly why you think I lied to you?" I paused. "Maybe I know and I've forgotten – can you jog my memory?"
For a minute, he didn't say anything, but only watched me. Years of experience with him told me that he was analysing me, trying to discern if I was being truthful. He had every right to distrust me at the moment, so I let him take his time.
"Of course," I added nervously, "except for the fact that I lied about the body. Wait, that's what you mean, right? No, you said ever since we met..." My voice trailed away.
He shook his head. "No. About your powers thing. You told me you spoke to ghosts who came to you."
At this, a small smile spread upon my face, accompanied by a giggle. This wasn't time for jokes, but I couldn't help it.
"Well," I said, "the only crime I committed there was not to correct your assumption. You assumed that I spoke to ghosts the first time we met – because of the way we met. You started saying like I met ghosts and I just didn't correct you, is all."
Sun seemed to dawn upon him then, and his mouth twitched in a strange manner.
The proverbial ice in the room broke when he burst out laughing.
If I were an anime character, a drop of sweat would've be seen sliding down the back of my head.
When he was done laughing, some few minutes later, he beamed at me.
"So, you swear to me that the only lie you ever told me was about the body?" he asked.
I nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes. And that also because there were other people around me and I couldn't exactly reveal my secret to them all."
He nodded once and the understanding smile I knew so well spread across his face. "True, true. Well then, care to share the story with me?"
"Oh yes! Gladly!" And I told him the whole truth, while he listened patiently. I remember glancing idly at the clock once and noting that it was nearing half-past-ten.
"So," he said, once I was done talking, "you think Landon Graff is that man in the hood?"
"I think so. I mean, he somehow reminds me of a person I know and the only other person that popped into my head when I had a clearer look at him was Graff... Hey, you know what? Maybe not to-day, but tomorrow, hopefully when I go to school, I'll try to find out more somehow. More about him, I mean. Is that okay?"
"Sure. That's what I asked you to do, anyway." He paused. "Wait. So, you can travel in time. Did you try going back to see who killed MacDonald?"
"Oh yes, I did. But, it looks like my powers have finally found their limit or something. Anyways, I decided not to try again for a few days. I want to see how that'll work."
"Good idea. In the meantime, your secret's safe with me. I'll just tell them that you didn't notice the body at all that night." He winked.
I nodded, a wave of relief hitting my heart. "Yes, thank you so much." I swallowed a small lump that'd formed in my throat. "Er, Marc?"
"Yes?"
"I'm telling the truth, you know. The full truth. Without holding anything back."
He nodded with his sincere slight smile that assured me every time. "Yes. I know." He perked up as a thought seemed to strike him. "Hey... Want to go out tomorrow night?"
The question came so suddenly in such an intense moment, that I blinked in confusion a few times. But, I recovered quickly enough, and smiled my best smile. "I'd love to!"
He grinned. "Great! Let's make it a date!"