Notes:
Thanks for all the positive feedback. Y'all rock.

In passing I asked Doc where I might find old mines. He gave me this look- like, You know, Suze, I'd tell you if I didn't think we wouldn't be carrying you out later, and just said "I don't know." Yeah, Right. He's the information guru. I don't want to sit on the internet all night down stairs. Besides, it'd be too busy, and I'd get questions. Maybe I won't! PLAN!
Mom says I can have the house to myself so I can work on a paper. Thank goodness that my grades were so much better back in New York. It was amazing to me, even. I guess the fact that I'm not cutting class all the time to take care of ghosts helps. Father D has been a better help than I thought. His birthday is coming up. I gotta get him something. A copy of GhostBusters, heh. Research night. Whoo.

-suze

Jesse sat over my shoulder while I looked stuff up on the computer. Then he told me I was a silly little girl and that sometimes he did at least have a few answers instead of a thousand and one questions. So I asked him where they all mined and he smiled and says, "Sacramento, and San Francisco." Neither of which is that great an option. Either and both are hours away.

AND I CAN'T PASS THE DAMN ROAD TEST!

I guess I'll have to ask Father D. Maybe he could take me. I still think that California should develop a decent mass transit system. I miss New York. I miss real pizza. And Broadway. And Gina.
RegardlessI know my parents would never agree if I told them I wanted to go gold digging! They'd tell me to get a book.

-suze

Father D said he'd take me. But he can't get away for two weeks. I had to tell my parents where I was going, and that I was going with him. I totally understand why, at least this time.—with the rumors that seem to always circulate around about unchaste priests. Regardless, I'll tell mom that we're going to Sacramento to what? Inh. Any ideas Jesse?
Also Father D gave me the estimate I asked for about the headstone. I can pull it off- especially thanks to the Slater's very generous tip. He was kind of surprised, that I wanted to, but you don't get to give your ghost boyfriend things every once in a few hundred years. It's not like I can take him to Nordstrom's and help him pick out khakis. He said he needed an inscription before he can order it. Hmm.

BELOVED.
H. Jesse deSilva
193X- 1950
He loved his cat.

-suze

Jesse pitched a fit. Said I couldn't. I said I want to do this, and I was going to. It was the proper thing to do. His scar started glowing- as usual. It was the freaking Spanish Inquisition. Heh. That works on two levels. (I amuse myself. Truly, I do.) I got so frustrated I just told himto consider it a very early Valentine's Day present. He didn't know what that was. I suppose Hallmark wasn't very widespread back then. So, I told him- it's a day to celebrate love. He just gave me the patented Han Solo smile. You know, from Return of the Jedi after Leia gets shot and the stormtrooper comes up behind him and she shows him her gun and he smiles and says in that solo vocce voice—I love you.' Just like that. And he says that that would be all right.
Go figure.
As for my mission, I haven't had much time to work on it. Our new math teacher, Mrs. Sullivan is a slave driver and she gave us 10 problems to do. 10 very long proofs. Off to work. Tomorrow I'll get back to the library if I have time.

-suze

I wrote down the inscription I wanted for the headstone and gave it to Father Dominic. He got a little ticked off. He wanted an explanation and so I ended up telling him about Madame Zara's prophecy(??) That made him more upset because he thinks psychics are of Satan. I nicely pointed out that mediators aren't of God, nor of Satan, and so why should psychics be? He calmed down a little bit. I was glad, becauseJesse deserves a stone that says something other than a name and a date. Which he pointed out would be more appropriate since most people wouldn't understand. I'll take Jesse down to see it when it arrives.

I never got to the library. Dopey got injured in practice and I had to bring him home, after I took him to the Doctor's office. He sprained his wrist. He was whining like a little baby. Wimp.

-suze

Carrie Ackerman shook her head. Her daughter was either severely mentally disturbed, which she chose to discard, or her daughter really could see ghosts. She looked over at the clock on the wall, and picked up the phone. It was six here. It was still school hours there. She dialed for information.

"Information. Name?"

"Junipero Serra Mission Academy."

"City please?" Carrie tapped a pencil she found in the cup, against the blotter, making little silvery marks across the black background.

"Carmel, California."

"The number is (###) ###-####. Connecting."

"Hello, Junipero Serra Mission."

"I'm looking for someone who could look up a headstone purchase for me?"

"I can do that."

"Excellent. Thanks. My name is Carrie Ackerman. My daughter, several years ago purchased a headstone. I was wondering if you could look up what she had inscribed in it?"

"Absolutely. Let me look it up for you. What's her name?"

"Susannah Simon. It also maybe under Father Dominic's name. The stone was for Hector or Jesse de Silva."

"Why are you interested?"

"She wrote about it in her journals but it doesn't say what was actually written on it."

"Ah. Here we are. Okay- polished granite. Here we are," she recited the insciption for Carrie before commenting, "Oh, that's just beautiful." Carrie scribbled this quickly on a blue scrap of paper she pulled from the notepad that sat next to the phone.

"Yes it is. Thank you." She looked down at the paper and stared. Her daughter.

Beloved.
H. Jesse de Silva.
September 15, 1827 – 1850

"I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears of all my life!-
and if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death."

--
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NOTE: the quote I used for Jesse's headstone, comes from Elizabeth Barret Browning's Sonnets of the Portugese: 43.
i know there wasn't much action yet. i'll get there. i promise.