My Eldest, Second, and Third Cousins, My Little Cousin, and Me

I opened my contacts, turned on speakerphone, and picked a speed dial. In that instant, I was suddenly faced with the dilemma of choosing whom to call and confide in. Who do you tell about seeing ghosts: a researcher who’s even more of a mystic than a fortune-teller, or a charlatan who spouts scientific theories? I once heard a theory: when people are standing in front of a juice vending machine, unable to choose between two drinks, they usually press both buttons. That way, the drink they subconsciously prefer gets a tiny head start, since its button is pressed just a fraction sooner. So I did just that. And the call went to the home phone of my second cousin, Hua Jian, who was neither a researcher nor a charlatan. As expected, this was what my subconscious wanted. People with worries usually share them with others who are in the same boat, rather than being judged by someone uninvolved. I thought only my second cousin, who had seen ghosts just like me, could truly understand the gloom in my heart. This deep distress was something I couldn’t tell outsiders. Beep... beep... The phone rang on and on, but no one answered.