Nearly all parents say their child is special, so “special” has been cheapened. But our daughter Ivy was special in the most profound sense of the word.
My wife and I always knew Ivy was bright since she began speaking at 3. She’s would have been 8 now…that means it was 3 years ago since she first turned to my wife and said “mommy, you’re gonna live for a really long time. Parts are you are gonna be like a robot, but you will say that you are still you. Daddy…you only have 18 more years to live. Mommy says you should have done something about the lump on your back.”
My wife and I grilled my daughter endlessly to clarify what she said and Ivy held firm: if she is allowed to see someone in person, she can see the exact hour you are going to die. We decided to test it.
My wife was a cardiologist at Saint Leopolds, so she had some pull to bring Ivy into some of the resident rooms. Ivy had an amazing bedside manner and made the last days for some of these people more bearable. After the meetings, Ivy wrote down every death date for the 42 patients; she was 100% accurate with the dates, which ranged from 3 hours to 19 days. Ivy even claimed that one of the women who was given a month left to live actually had 3 more; 2 days later, that patient was released and recovered. She eventually traveled the world and played in a band, her top two bucket list items. She died last week, on the exact hour Ivy said she would.
My wife and I took our daughter to the James Randi Educational Foundation to prove Ivy’s psychic abilities and claim their long outstanding prize of a million dollars. After six successful trials at hospitals of their choosing, the foundation people were just as amazed as we were. Shortly thereafter, the foundation promptly discontinued the prize (with no relation to Ivy, of course).
We didn’t get the million dollars, but we did get serious attention from a group of academics who verified Ivy’s ability to call out people’s dates and sometimes a few scant details of the world that will be; surgeries, medication and old fashioned miracles would sometimes make Ivy push back the original date, and in one case where a doctor left a clamp inside of one of his patients, move it much closer.
We were able to keep Ivy out of the spotlight of the public, but you don’t keep secrets from the wealthy for very long. When they caught wind, a million dollars rolled in every week.
We re-arranged our entire lives around Ivy. We moved to a different life, one of luxury and security, where people would be profiled and searched before they were let into our compound to see Ivy, who gives them her answer behind 6” of Lucite. It was a business that was managed effectively and lovingly and with great success all the way until a man by the name of Gaelin Ganes wished to speak to our daughter Ivy for a hundred million dollars.
The old man traced a symbol in the air before every door he entered holding a small stuffed animal bound and choked with tarnished chains, something that looked old and cursed. The gaunt man’s head sported a silvery mane that belonged on one of the heads of a founding father, propped on a spindly vulture’s neck over an unnaturally rigid posture. His legs were wrong, kicked back, so that it looked as if his torso was hovering in the air as his feet stood behind him. The man tried his best to make his voice sound friendly, light and lyrical; it was like hearing “Happy Birthday” played on Hell’s organ, loud, toneless and totally unnerving. Something clicked in his throat when he talked like he had teeth grinding back there. I was glad that Mr. Ganes was behind the protective shield as Ivy sat in her “comfy chair”, cradling her knees as her eyes slowly followed the unhinged man. He touched the Lucite.
“Hello little girl. I hear you are quite special…I can see that. You see things, don’t you? You see people as they are,in time, yes? You can see their rooted births projected all the way to their wavering deaths…yes, I know you can. So can I. So tell me dear. Tell me my death day…and I shall tell you yours.” I put my finger on the alarm. I didn’t trust that man at all.
“I…” I never saw Ivy at a loss for words before. Her eyes widened, reeled and widened again. I would give anything to see what was running through her mind.
After what seemed to be forever, a tear ran down Ivy’s open eye. Then another.
“You don’t have a beginning…no end…what…what..?”
“What am I? I am what is in YOU. A Ganes, and a Ganes lives inside you, one by the name of Harold Ganes, an elder brother that I thought was lost forever. I see now I was mistaken… he was reborn in you. He is the one responsible for your gift…why he chooses to stay hidden in this frame is beyond me, but I shall soon know.” Gaelin removed his hand from the clear wall and said through Ivy: “It is good to see you again, brother.” With that, Gaelin left. For being bent and old, he was incredibly quick and elusive. As soon as he turned a blind camera corner, Gaelin threw off two security squads and vanished from our premises without ever opening a door.
Our security company drove us to a secret location- Ivy sat between her mother and I, but my daughter would not stop shivering.
“That man is going to throw me away. He wants me gone because I can see the world changing. That bad man is making it change. He is giving all of us…me, you, mommy…he calls them “sacrifices to power”. Then…they rise. Everyone’s death dates have changed…the entire world will die in 10 years, 6 months, 8 days, 2 hours…I can see more if I concentrate, before the bad man throws me away…” My wife assured Ivy that Gaelin Ganes could and would never get her. I remained silent.
We retreated in in the panic cabin and decided to sleep together in 1 bed for safety. Just as when we began to relax in the peaceful dark, my daughter whispered: “he’s close, daddy. The bad man knows what I said to you, about the world sacrifice. I’m not safe here. They’re coming.” I told my daughter that we were sealed into a locked and triggered room under the security company’s eye, we were fine, and ushered everyone back into sleep. That would be the last time I would hear my daughter speak.
My wife and I woke to find our daughter’s mouth open and eyes locked in a dead stare. We rushed her to the hospital to go through 3 days of hell just to hear that they have no idea how, but that she was now in a vegetative state, to which she is not expected to recover. Two operations and the best cognitive medicine have made no impact on our special daughter.
My wife wife killed herself a month after my daughter died of a cerebral hemorrhage after a nurse dropped her from her hospital bed. We were given a substantial private settlement to keep the accident from spreading to the news. I agreed. This is the first I have ever spoken of it.
I am now using every last cent of it to find the man who took my daughter and find answers behind what my daughter saw for all of us in 10 years.