Come to Me

Suzanne Summers was a clairvoyant. And a genuine one at that. Not one of those rip-offs who stared into crystal balls and charged clients an arm and a leg. Well, alright. Maybe her charges were quite exorbitant, but it wasn’t every day the average Joe got to find out his dead great grandfather wanted to share with him his secret stash of gold bars hidden underneath the floorboards of the family house.

 

In short, Suzanne was good at her job. She could see ghosts, speak to them, and relay their messages to their loved ones. And for that, she was paid handsomely. 

 

Today, Suzanne sat in her office. Sunlight streamed through the sole window of the room through its recently wiped glass with dust mites dancing in the sunbeam. Suzanne was hunched over her white Ikea desk, papers strewn all over the place as she chewed on her ballpoint pen. Her curly dark hair was tied up loosely in a bun while her glasses kept sliding down her button nose. She didn’t look like a clairvoyant. In fact, in her late twenties, Suzanne looked more like a worn-out secretary than she did anything else. But she wasn’t one to complain. She had grown up playing hide and seek and hopscotch with Sally the ghost more than she did mixing with other kids her age. Her teenage weekends were filled with gossiping with lingering spirits more than going to the movies. Most kids shunned her at school, thinking her weird and scary. But Suzanne didn’t mind. 

 

“It’s a gift to be able to help the departed,” Grandma never failed to remind her. 

 

And that was the mantra she grew up with: to help the deceased and make good money out of it in the process. The clairvoyant business enabled her to buy a cozy little penthouse at one of the poshest condominiums in town, drive a bright red Volkswagen, and send her now senile grandmother to a luxurious adult care center.

 

Part of her penthouse had been converted into her office where she was now sitting. Opposite Suzanne sat a plump old lady with an eager smile.

 

“I don’t do animals, ma’am,” Suzanne tried to explain. Especially when they’re still alive. 

 

“But I heard you’re the best at finding missing people.” The old woman wasn't giving up without a fight.

 

Suzanne forced a smile. “You just said it, ma’am, people. I don’t look for lost animals. I’m sorry, but you came to the wrong place. Why don’t you call the animal shelter instead?”

 

The woman stood up, pushed a crumpled photo of her cat into Suzanne’s hands, and pleaded at her with her half-glazed eyes. Suzanne could tell that the woman didn’t have much time left in this world.

 

“Please? She’s family,” the old woman pleaded. She pushed another envelope, this one with a wad of thick, crisp notes in them, into Suzanne’s other hand.

 

“Look, ma’am.” Suzanne eyed the money. No, no, no, don’t do this.

 

“You can take your money back. I’ll help you look for your cat. It’ll be free of charge. But I can’t promise you anything.” Why on earth am I promising her this?

 

The old woman was ecstatic. “Thank you, sweetheart. God bless you. I knew you were the best in your field.”

 

Suzanne walked the old woman out the door and closed it with a sigh. She hated doing charity. It was a waste of time, and it didn’t help pay the bills. But she couldn’t say no to a dying woman. 

 

“That was very kind of you,” a soft, haunting voice came from behind. Suzanne whirled around and found herself face to face with a shimmery figure. 

 

“Lady, you need to make an appointment before coming in, you know.” Suzanne rolled her eyes, walking right past the ghost. She headed straight to her desk and began clearing it up.

 

“I need your help.” The ghost followed her to her desk and sat where the old lady had taken a seat earlier. Sunlight shone through the ghostly figure of an attractive woman in her sixties. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun, contrary to Suzanne’s messy do, and she was dressed in a white hospital gown. 

 

“Then you should know I require a down payment,” Suzanne said wryly. “I assume Mr. Hendricks sent you here?”

 

Old man Hendricks was her grandmother’s old flame. He was a semi-retired clairvoyant who had guided many lost souls to the rainbow bridge. These days, he hung around hospitals and retirement centers so much that most of her clients came to her through him. 

 

“Yes, but I have no money,” the ghost admitted sheepishly. “I could help you with the next lottery draw, though,” she offered.

 

Suzanne had gained much from lotteries and shares over the years, thanks to her clients' help. 

 

“Alright, name?” Suzanne opened her iPad and created a new folder. 

 

“Yvonne Long. I’d like to reunite my son with his father.”

 

“Uh-huh, I’ll need details about your son and the father?” Suzanne pushed her glasses back up and continued typing.

 

“My son is Tom Banks. He’ll be 32 this year. His father is on his deathbed as we speak. Tom doesn’t know about his father. He doesn’t even know about me either.”

 

“You see, he grew up in the Gracious House orphanage. I left him at their doorstep when he was just a few days old,” Yvonne Long’s voice quivered. If ghosts could cry, she would probably have flooded the whole room by now.

 

“I see. I’ll need some proof to show him that you’re his mom.” Suzanne typed on.

 

“He should have a copy of his birth certificate; it has my name on it. The orphanage told him I passed away during labor. The Directress understood my need for secrecy back then.”

 

Suzanne looked up. “And that would be…?”

 

“His father is William Banks.”

 

Suzanne almost fell off her chair. “Excuse me?”

 

“His father is William Banks.” 

 

The Mayor of New York.

 

“Umm, it's past April Fools, you know?” Suzanne was bewildered. The Mayor had a clean record of being a no-nonsense, down-to-earth man whose love for his town and family knew no bounds. A son born out of wedlock was not something Suzanne would associate him with.

 

Yvonne Long’s shimmering face looked annoyed. She crossed her ghostly arms.

 

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

 

Suzanne quickly shook her head, “No ma’am, not at all. It’s just hard to picture the Mayor ever having an affair, is all. He’s been such a great figure in the political scene. He could have even won the presidential election if he hadn’t fallen ill last year.”

 

“He’s dying. If there’s one thing I regret, it’s that I didn’t look for Tom before I died. I don’t want to leave this world without allowing him to meet his father.”

 

“Please, Miss Summers. Please help me before my time is up.”

 

Every departed soul had seven days on earth to bid their loved ones goodbye, resolve any issues, and lay down their burdens before passing the rainbow bridge. Once they crossed the bridge, there would be no turning back. That meant that Suzanne had very limited time to help reunite the Banks family.

 

“It won’t be easy. I’ll need to charge double for this.” She could use the money to go on a long-overdue shopping spree throughout the whole of Europe.

 

“That won’t be a problem. I’m a ghost now,” Yvonne Long chuckled as if finding this amusing.

 

“And I’m assuming you passed away this morning?” Suzanne asked. She needed to work out a plan if she were to bring this long-lost son to the most beloved political figure in the country right now. 

 

“Two days ago.”

 

“Were you lost? Didn’t you see old man Hendricks at the morgue?” Suzanne asked, bewildered that it took so long for the ghost to have come to her. That meant that they had roughly five days left. “Do you know you’re on a time limit here?”

 

Yvonne Long stood up from the chair and faced the window. Sunlight streamed through her translucent figure as she stood looking out the window. 

 

“I understand that. It took me that long to decide… please know that this decision did not come lightly. I don’t want to turn Tom’s life upside down. My only wish is for him to say goodbye to his father before it’s too late. William would want to meet his firstborn if he knew about Tom.”

 

“So, William Banks doesn’t know about Junior. Great. Piece of cake.” Suzanne looked straight into Yvonne’s face. “I can’t promise anything.”

 

“Especially not with the kind of security the Mayor has around him these days.”

 

An assassination attempt on William Banks two years ago left him with a gunshot scar through his cheek and the addition of two bodyguards who revolved around him 24/7.

 

“You’ll get the grand prize for the next draw.”

 

Suzanne smiled. “In that case, let's go find your son.”

The red Volkswagen came to a screeching halt at the crowded parking lot. Suzanne opened her car door and stepped out, pushing her glasses back up her nose. She swore to herself to get LASIK done after this job was over. 

 

Right. You’ve been saying that for the past six years, and you’re still wearing glasses.

 

Groups of students could be seen walking towards the entrance of Knewton University’s main hall. Knewton was one of the most prestigious universities in the city, second only to the likes of Harvard and Princeton.

 

“So, your son lectures here. Impressive,” Suzanne said, not caring if anyone thought she was talking to herself. Yvonne Long’s spirit stood next to her and looked at the school proudly. 

 

“Yes.” She beamed with pride and headed towards the entrance. Suzanne grabbed a shiny red toolbox from her passenger seat, closed the door, and followed Yvonne as the spirit glided through the crowded halls seamlessly. 

 

She must have been keeping a tab on him all these years.

 

They moved through the swarm of students, and after what felt like a walk in an overly crowded maze, Suzanne found herself standing at the swing door of a lecture hall. She peeked inside through the slit glass window and, to her surprise, found the semi-circular hall to be rather packed. 

 

“What does he teach?” Suzanne asked. From the glass window, she caught a glimpse of Yvonne Long’s son. He had his back towards her as he stood in front of the hall, facing a large projection screen.

 

“Quantum Physics.” The proud motherly ghost smiled, happy to see so many students immersed in her son’s teaching.

 

“Excuse me.” A freckle-faced red-headed young man tapped on Suzanne’s shoulder. She stepped aside, and the man pushed open the swing door to head inside. Apparently, the class had just started. Suzanne slipped in and followed the redhead, taking a seat next to him at the very top row. 

 

From her seat, Suzanne could finally see Tom Banks. And he took her breath away.

 

He was devastatingly handsome. He stood tall with his lush brown hair combed back to reveal a clean and extremely well-chiseled face. His wayfarer blue eyes gleamed as he scanned the class while he continued his lecture, moving around the podium with athletic grace. His deep, clear voice boomed across the lecture hall and commanded the attention of all who were there. 

 

Suzanne swore to herself that if he hadn't ended up being a lecturer, he would probably have become a famous model instead.

 

“Handsome, isn’t he? He takes after my side of the family,” Yvonne Long said as if reading Suzanne’s mind. Tom Banks looked nothing like William Banks, save for his beautiful pair of bright blue eyes. 

 

“I didn’t say anything.” Suzanne flushed. “We’ll approach him when the class ends.”

 

The redhead turned to her with a quizzical look.

 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Suzanne said matter-of-factly.

 

Tom Banks lectured on, pointing a penlight at his screen. A simple black and white illustration by Tucker Nichols was shown with overlapping circles taking up the whole screen. On the left circle were the words “MUST BE,” in the overlap was the word “REAL,” and on the other circle were the words “CAN’T BE.” 

 

“What is real and what is not?” Tom asked the class.

 

“CERN’s LHC (Large Hadron Collider) is currently the world’s biggest and most powerful particle accelerator around. And this baby has seen quite a number of things, from identifying how particles decay to picking up hints on new and unknown particles. Particles that have yet to be charted. It’s done practically everything, but for some reason, it has yet to find proof that there is anything that could make up a ghost.”

 

“Great, and we’re going to convince your son that you exist.” Suzanne smiled sarcastically at Yvonne Long. The ghost was far too immersed in her son’s lecture to pay any attention to her.

 

But the redhead turned to look at her again, this time with an annoyed look on his face.

 

“I see dead people,” Suzanne winked. He rolled his eyes and scooted to another seat.

 

“According to Brian Cox, and I quote, ‘If we want some sort of pattern that carries information about our living cells to persist, then we must specify precisely what medium carries that pattern and how it interacts with the matter particles out of which our bodies are made,’” Tom continued, reading an excerpt from Brian Cox’s podcast. 

 

Suzanne opened up her red toolbox and took out one of the many little glass vials laid neatly inside. She shook it, and it started to glow. “I’ll need to use this then. He’ll have a hard time believing us otherwise.”

 

“Shh!” a brunette in front turned around to hush Suzanne. Suzanne hushed back, “You shush too!”

 

“And in the words of the great physicist, ‘We need to invent an extension to the Standard Model of Particle Physics that has escaped detection at the Large Hadron Collider. And that is almost inconceivable at the energy scales typical of the particle interactions in our bodies.’”

 

Tom looked up from his lecture notes and pushed back a strand of hair that fell onto his forehead. 

 

“So, class, what does that tell you? Are ghosts real? Or are they not?”

 

“Not real!” the whole class shouted back in unison.

 

Yvonne Long laughed, and the lights in the lecture hall flickered slightly.

 

The lecture went on for another hour before it ended. By then, Suzanne was convinced that she needed to pay a visit to Brian Cox and show him a spirit or two. She waited patiently for the students to disperse before making her way down to the podium. Tom Banks was gathering his notes and waving goodbye to a group of giggling female students. It was obvious he had a fanbase at the university.

 

After the last student had exited the hall, Suzanne walked up to Tom. He was already done packing up when he saw her. 

 

“Hello, I’ve never seen you before,“ he smiled. And what a smile it was. The guy was born to be a supermodel. He extended his hand.

 

Suzanne took it and watched her hand disappear in his. His hand was so large. She wondered if everything else about his was large as well. 

 

“I’m Suzanne Summers. Your mother sent me here to meet you.”

 

Tom’s eyes narrowed, and he dropped the handshake. “Excuse me?”

 

“She’s here with us right now in spirit. She’ll be leaving for the rainbow bridge in five days, but she wants to say goodbye to you before she leaves for good.”

 

He thinks I’m a quack. 

 

“I’m afraid you have the wrong person,” he said, trying to be polite before turning around to leave the hall.

 

“You grew up at Saint Annie’s Orphanage. The directress, Wendy Letterman, brought you up as her own. I’m sure she showed you your birth certificate. It has your mother’s name on it. Yvonne Long.”

 

Tom paused in his tracks. 

 

“She had her reasons for leaving you at the orphanage.” She had his attention now.

 

Tom turned around with a look of confusion and disbelief.

 

“Who sent you?” he asked.

 

Yvonne stepped forward and placed a shimmering hand gently on his cheeks. Tom instinctively went to scratch his cheeks.

 

“Your mother did. She passed away a few days ago, but her spirit is here. I’m a clairvoyant, Tom. I can see her. And if you want to, I can help you see her too.” Suzanne stepped forward while Tom took a step back.

 

“You’re crazy,” he whispered.

 

Yvonne shook her head, pleading for Tom to take a look at her.

 

Suzanne took another step forward, grabbed his hand, and slipped him a piece of paper. 

 

“You can call this hospital. They have her records and belongings still stored there. She has a will with you as the beneficiary. “

 

He stared at the paper, not saying a word.

 

Suzanne continued, “And once you verify the details, call me. My number’s on the paper too.”

 

She took out her little vial and shook it, and the vial glowed. 

 

“Alternatively, you can break this, inhale the vapor, and see your mom straight away,“ Suzanne gently placed the little vial into the palm of his hand before pressing his fingers closed. The glow subsided. Tom never took his eyes off the vial.

 

“It’s my grandmother’s recipe, but I tweaked it a little, so it works faster, and you won’t feel nauseating after-effects of the original vapor. Oh, and it’s got a minty smell too. Mint’s the in thing now,“ Suzanne said smugly.

 

“But I’d advise you to break the vial in my presence. Most people aren’t used to seeing ghosts materializing in front of them.”

 

“It’s your call, Tom Banks. Your mother doesn’t have much time left.”

 

“Neither does your father,” Yvonne Long said sadly.

 

“I’ll be waiting for your call,” Suzanne stepped back, straightened her white ruffled blouse, and took her leave. Tom didn’t stop her. Yvonne stayed by her son’s side and waved goodbye to Suzanne.