Carter
Even though I was dead tired, I was up all night replaying the shouting match Zoey and I had in the car. She was right about me living in my own world of pain and anger and how I refused to see any type of good in anyone or anything. Most of that was true, but I did see good in her, too much good and that was what frightened me so much. She told me that I wasn’t the only one whose life was affected by tragedy, insinuating that she too had suffered some in her life. I kept going back to when we were at the gas station and she let it slip about her mother. But why the hell would she keep that from me? After tossing and turning, I decided to go for a run because it always helped clear my head. But this time, it didn’t. It only made me have more questions about her. There was a mystery surrounding Zoey Benson and there was something she didn’t want me to know. The words “I don’t want to talk about what I see all the time, every day, and every minute of my life” circled around in my head. I had a feeling she wasn’t talking about her terminally ill patients, and I was going to find out exactly what she meant, whether I wanted to know the truth or not. I needed to find out what kind of person I was dealing with.
I took our large pieces of donuts and sat down at the table while Zoey made us each a coffee.
“What time do you want to head out for the Grand Canyon?” she asked as she set our coffee cups down on the table.
“After I shower,” I spoke as I picked up my coffee and took a sip. “I have a question for you, Zoey.”
“Sure. What is it?” she asked as she took a bite of her donut.
“Right before Nora passed away, you told her you could see my parents like she said she did. Was that really true or were you just saying that for her sake?”
I could see the hesitation on her face and silence crossed her lips. I reached over and lightly placed my hand on hers.
“It’s okay. You can tell me the truth and I promise not to judge you or say anything out of line.”
“As much as I want to believe you, Carter, I’m not going to answer your question.”
She pulled her hand out from under mine and picked up her coffee cup.
“And why not?” I narrowed my eye at her.
“Because you aren’t ready to hear the truth.”
“Who are you to decide if I’m ready or not?” I spoke with irritation.
“You already think I’m crazy as it is. I’m not about to add anything else to that.”
I sat there, eating my donut and sipping my coffee while staring at her. If she was mentally ill by some means, then I wouldn’t have to worry about wanting to be with her. She was complicated and that was something I didn’t need in my life.
“Are you on any kind of medication?” I asked her.
Her brow arched as her eyes stared into mine.
“Have you ever seen me take any medication?”
“No, but I don’t know if you take something right before you go to bed or not.”
“Mr. Grayson, what exactly are you insinuating?”
“I know you’re adopted, so maybe mental illness runs in your family.”
She threw her head back and a roar of laughter escaped her.
“You think I have a mental illness? Wow. Okay, we’re going to settle this once and for all because, honestly, I’m tired of you and your accusations.” She got up from her seat and took her plate and coffee cup over to the sink. “I can see dead people, aka, ghosts, spirits, or whatever you want to call them. Plain and simple. I’m not crazy. They’re real and I can’t help it. So, to answer your question from earlier, yes, I did see your parents standing by Nora’s bed and she saw them too. And by the way, I see Nora every now and again. She was with us while we were scattering her ashes in Lake Tahoe. And the man at the hotel, yes, he was standing behind me because he needed me to give a message to his wife. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take my crazy ass to the bedroom. Just let me know when you’re ready to leave. Or, if you’d prefer, I can catch a plane home and you can handle the rest of this by yourself. I wouldn’t want you to be freaked out or have to deal with my craziness any more. I know Nora wanted me to help you, but frankly, it’s not worth it anymore. You’re beyond help, Mr. Grayson.” She began to walk away and then stopped and turned around. “My parents were killed in a plane crash when I was five years old. So yeah, my life has been affected by tragedies as well.” She stormed off and into the bedroom where she slammed the door shut.
I sat there, slowly closed my eyes for a moment, and tried to process everything she just told me. I didn’t want to believe her. She had lied to me about her parents from the beginning and she was lying about everything else. I’d had enough, so I got up from the table, went to her room, and opened the door in a fit of rage.
“You are a liar!” I pointed at her. “You lied about your parents and you’re lying about everything else. Did you just make up that bullshit about them being killed in a plane crash to make yourself feel better from being abandoned?” I shouted. “I’m calling the airlines and sending you home. I can’t deal with you anymore.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at me while I yelled. She didn’t move and she didn’t speak a word. In fact, she didn’t do a goddamn thing. She didn’t even flinch. Just as I was about to shut the door, she spoke.
“Year 1997. New York. Flight 4211. Kenneth and Margo Anderson.”
I slowly shook my head at her, shut the door, and went to my room. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I called the airlines to book her a flight back to New York.
“What the hell do you mean no flights are going into New York?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but both LaGuardia and JFK have experienced severe power outages and we aren’t sure when it will be restored. Electric crews are telling us maybe sometime tomorrow.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“I wish I was, sir. Thousands of passengers are stranded at the moment and a ton of flights have been canceled. My advice would be to check back tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
In a fit of anger, I threw my phone on the bed and climbed into the shower. When I was finished and got dressed, I picked up my phone and called my private investigator.
“Carter, how are you, my friend?”
“Hey, Charlie. I need a favor.”
“Sure, man, what’s up?”
“Can you see what you can dig up on a plane crash back in 1997? Apparently, there was one in New York, Flight 4211.”
“I think I remember that. Give me a few hours and I’ll call you back.”
“Thanks, Charlie.”
After ending the call, I went back to Zoey’s room and opened the door.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to enter someone’s room without knocking?” she spoke.
“I paid for the room, so technically, I can do whatever the fuck I want. I called the airlines and apparently there are no flights going in or out of New York right now due to some major power outage at both airports. So we better get on the road to the Grand Canyon and I’ll call again in the morning.”
“I don’t want to go with you.” She folded her arms.
“I don’t care. You’re not staying here by yourself. Nora wanted you to come on the trip and since you’re here and can’t go anywhere else, you’re going to help me scatter her ashes over the fucking Grand Canyon!” I sternly spoke. “So let’s go!”