There was an awkward few seconds of silence before Di Luca continued. “The nurse will be along soon with the discharge papers.” He offered a big smile and shook Jessica’s hand with both of his, and added, “Call me if you are concerned about anything . . . anything at all.”
As soon as the doctor had left, her father relaunched his attempt to convince her mother that Jennifer should go and look at mugshots.
“David! Stop being a damn lawyer and be a father for once. She needs to eat properly and rest at home.”
“So now you are playing the concerned mother? When is your flight back to Miami?” he sneered.
“I’ll go tomorrow to look at the mugshots. Just stop arguing!” Jennifer yelled out and then looked immediately apologetic as she saw the shock on her parents’ faces.
“You’re upsetting her!” her mother seethed at her ex-husband.
Nurse Bailey returned, holding the discharge papers. Leaning over Jennifer, she whispered with a wink, “So you convinced the doc you’re not a nut. Well done. I was starting to wonder back there.”
“Me too!” Jennifer whispered with a smile. If I actually told you what I’ve seen, you’d have me in a straitjacket and rubber room before I could even blink, she thought.
Her mother took the documents from the nurse and signed them immediately. She gave them back without even looking at David. The nurse raised an eyebrow at David’s apparent impotence in the matter and winked again at Jennifer. “Good luck!” she mouthed before leaving the room.
As Jennifer tried to get dressed as quickly as possible, her father’s phone pinged. He read the text message. “I’ve got to go to the 109th Precinct—now,” he said.
“Your daughter is being discharged from the hospital and you can’t take her back home before going back to work?” Jessica Miller said, glaring.
“It’s to do with the attack!”
“Can’t it wait? You heard the doctor. She needs familiar surroundings to recover—like being driven home in your car rather than a cab. Be a parent!”
Jennifer felt this was unfair. Her father had always been protective of her. Finding his daughter’s attacker would, in his mind, amount to him being a proper father. It was just how he was wired. She knew there was only so much of her mother’s criticism that he could take without biting back, but somehow, he’d once again managed to keep his cool and not make a scene.
“The detective called me earlier to say that one of the pub staff was having a cigarette at the time of the attack—he saw the whole thing and is now in the station to look at mugshots.”
Her mother simply stared. “Just go. You’re more interested in the case than your daughter. We’ll take a cab to your house. Just let me know when you are planning to come home so I can leave for my hotel.”
Her comment came as no surprise to Jennifer. Ever since the divorce, her parents had avoided spending any time together, and the fact that they had tolerated each other for as long as they had in her hospital room was some kind of achievement. What did amaze her, as her father kissed her good-bye, was that neither of her parents had asked if she would like to go and see John. It was of no consequence, of course, as she was now sure she had already seen him.
John had hoped that this time he might wake up mortal, but that hadn’t happened. He’d have liked to see Jennifer before her parents arrived that morning, but when he got to her floor, he spotted them in the corridor, already walking toward her room. After following them for a minute, he heard her father say that he was expecting a call from Detective Williams with an update on the case. John decided to stay back, out of Jennifer’s sight, not knowing how she would react to seeing him again.
That was fifteen minutes ago. Now, seeing the expression of determination on her father’s face as he left his daughter’s bedside, John figured that his reunion with Jennifer could wait. Following her father might be a better idea because it might lead to news of his attacker. As they approached David Miller’s Volvo station wagon, John readied himself for his first journey as a spirit.
Sitting in the passenger seat right next to his girlfriend’s father, yet knowing he was completely invisible, was strange enough. But not being able to feel the vibrations and bumps in the road when he momentarily lost focus and started sinking through his seat was even weirder.
As they entered Flushing, the main business district in Queens, the rumble of the tires and David Miller’s humming were drowned out by the noise of car horns, sirens, jackhammers, and truck engines. The sea of yellow cabs, the energy, and the bustle on the streets had not yet lost their wonder for John, who was new to New York, but today they paled into insignificance compared to what he could additionally see.
He had seen several spirits on the way to Flushing, but never as many as were in the view that now confronted him. They were amid the crowds, on street corners, in alleys, in cars, buses, taxis—spirits of every type of person he could imagine, from crackheads to executives, soldiers to policemen, young and old. Some of the spirit kids were running, completely wild, into and through oncoming traffic, laughing and screaming. In the distance, John saw spirits jumping from one vehicle roof to another, making a fast path through the slow crawl of traffic.
A sleek Porsche coupe sped past them on John’s side of the car, taking him by surprise because of the female spirit crouching on the roof. Like a surfer riding a wave, she was clearly in her element. Their eyes met and he was sure she nodded at him and smiled. Seconds
