Aftermath (9 page)

Rachel lectured almost
the entire period which gave me plenty of time for several scenarios
to run through my head. I felt guilty for not being able to pay
attention to her.

After class, I gave her
space and decided not to stop by her desk. Absentmindedly, I got my
things and started to leave.

“Adriana, I’d like
to talk to you please.”

Uh-oh. From her tone, I
knew it couldn’t be good. Most of the class had already left but a
few students turned their heads. It was like being sent to the
principal’s office; but I wasn’t in trouble, was I? I nodded and
started walking over to her. I thought back to our conversation
yesterday about the Lalaurie mansion. She must have known something
and now decided to confront me about it. I sat down in the desk
closest to her while she was still sorting through folders in a
filing cabinet.

“Hi,” I alerted her
to my presence, after she didn’t seem to notice me. When she just
continued searching through her desk I wondered if I had even spoken
in more than a whisper.

She looked up at me,
her eyelids heavy and a little startled. “I wanted to talk to you
about a paper of yours.” She continued searching through papers.
Ok, so this wasn’t how I thought the conversation would go.
She wanted to talk to me about my academics which made me worry even
more. She finally came up from her file cabinet defeated. “Sorry
Adriana. I’ve just gotten tired.”

I saw the exhaustion in
her face, too, and immediately my concerned instincts took over. “Are
you okay? What happened?” It was hard to believe a lecture wore her
out. She was so collected earlier; even when she was teaching she was
always confident. Her demeanor had completely changed and I couldn’t
help but think how out-of-character it was.

“Oh, no, I’m fine
really.” She put a few papers in a manila folder and put a book on
the shelf behind her. “I just haven’t been sleeping well in
general.”

“I’m sorry.” My
apology was genuine, but what else could I say?

“Nightmares,” she
added quietly.

Now I had a ton to say.
“Nightmares? What do you mean nightmares? What kind of nightmares?”

“It’s nothing. I’ve
just been stressed about my house. I don’t know if I should sell it
and just take the losses or not...” her words faded.

Oh. So not
my
kind of nightmares.

“Again, I’m sorry.”
I put my hand on her desk in an unconscious effort to comfort her.
“Is there anything I can do?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine.
I did my dissertation on the history of dreams. If I am dreaming
about selling my house, then that is the path I should take. Dreams
aren’t just random. They have meaning. They tell you something. So
if I am dreaming I should sell my house, I have nothing to lose by
pursuing it.”

I couldn’t believe
how great her timing was! Although our nightmares were completely not
in the same ballpark, maybe not even in the same country, she was
right. I had nothing to lose by pursuing them. I already knew my
dreams were telling me something. They certainly weren’t random,
now I just had to figure out what exactly it was they were trying to
tell me. And that meant that I was going to go to the haunted theater
after work. I smiled at her in silent agreement.

She seemed pleased that
we came to the same conclusion. She looked up at the clock on the
wall. “You'd better get to your next class.”

I looked at it, too,
briefly forgetful that I had a schedule to follow. When I saw that my
next class was about to start, I scrambled out of my seat.

“You’re right.
Thanks. We’ll talk later?”

“Always,” she
promised.

Before I was out the
door, I remembered something. “Oh, I almost forgot, you wanted to
talk to me about a paper?”

Her drooping eyes were
now wide, “Yes, but I was mistaken. It was another student’s
paper.”

I looked at her with
confusion, until she gave me a reassuring smile.

“All right, then.”
I bowed my head and walked out.
She definitely knows something’s
up,
was my last thought before I went to gym.

I walked to my locker
after gym, noting rather irritatingly that Luke was, yet again,
absent. Then I worried that Hayden wouldn’t be able to get a ride
home from him. I would either be late to work if I had to drop Hayden
off at home or Hayden would be driving me. I texted him to meet me at
my locker, hoping he would have an explanation about why Luke was
gone.

“Hi,” he kissed my
cheek. “I thought you were going straight to work from gym. Can’t
stay away can you?” he teased.

I gave him a
patronizing smile. “Ha-ha. No, I
was
going to leave but—”

“You ready to go?”
Luke interrupted us, his backpack slung over his shoulder like he was
here the whole day.

“Yeah, one second.
Did you change your mind about me driving you?” Hayden didn’t
turn his attention from me.

“No, it’s ok. I
just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Bye,” Luke
clipped.
Ugh, what was his problem today?

“Not goodbye,” he
cupped my face, “see you later.” He rubbed my lower lip with the
pad of his thumb, leaving me breathless. He winked as he walked away
with Luke. Stupid work. Stupid dream. There were many things I could
curse. And I did just that on my short drive to work.

Before I even walked
into the shop, Zack came out of the office. “Suit up; you’re
going to actually work today.”

“Hello to you, too.”
I tilted my chin up.

Seeing Christian at his
desk, I ignored Zack’s order and walked into the office.

“Hi, Mr. Christian.”

“Hey baby girl.”
His sweet southern drawl was a contrast to the bitterness of Zack’s.

“Busy today?” I
asked, wondering why Zack wanted me to get suited up right away.

“Yeah. ‘fraid so.”

“More than usual?”

“We’ve got boat
inspections all week, on top of the salvaging. I had to send half my
boys off shore on those Gulf jobs. They won’t be back for another
week.”

“I see.” And I
officially felt guilty for having the weekend off.

“Dad, I need that
compressor,” Zack was behind me, speaking in a slightly more polite
tone to his father.

“Well, come get it.”
He tilted his head to the right of him.

Zack drew his lips in
and raised his eyebrows as he went to take an air tank. He hesitated,
fiddling with the valve.

“Don’t worry about
it though, Adriana. I got your dad coming in and we got Zack here.”

“Oh and Dad,” Zack
jumped at the opportunity, “since we have an extra body, I was
hoping to get Friday off.”

“Friday off?”
Christian spoke the words as if they were inconceivable.

I slowly started to
back out of the office.

“For what?”
Christian added.

“There’s just
something important I want to do. Friends, ya know?”

“Not this week, Zack.
Ana's dad isn’t coming in to replace anyone, we need him and we
need you.”

Zack exhaled, clearly
unhappy about not getting Friday off but not saying so. “You don’t
understand…”

“I can work for you!”
I blurted out before I could think it through.

Christian’s head shot
up. “Adriana, no.”

“No, it’s fine
really. I don’t mind.” That wasn’t entirely true, but I
considered it my peace offering to Zack. I hoped he would go a little
easier on me if I did this. That wasn’t the only reason, though.
There was something about what he said that reminded me of myself. I
didn’t work twice as often as he did and it still was enough. He
was a teenager. He wanted to go out and live his life. He wanted to
be normal and he was right, his dad didn’t get that. How many
teenagers worked full time? How many were scuba divers with more
responsibility than most adults?

“No!” Zack’s
bellow broke through my thoughts.

“Zachary…”
Christian scolded him.

Zack ignored his father
and turned towards me. “No. I don’t need you to work for me and I
don’t need your help.”

“I’m sorry, I
just…” I tried justifying my offer but Zack had already left.
What is with everyone today?

“Sorry about that,
Adriana. I’ll have to have a good talking to with that boy later,”
his voice carried the threat.

“No, please don’t.
It’s fine. I was just trying to help.”

“I know you were. You
always are. That’s the problem, ain't it?”

How right he was.
“Yeah, well I’m going to get suited up. I take it I’ll have the
honor of being Zack’s dive buddy for the inspection on that
ginormous boat on our docks out there?”

“’fraid so,” he
spoke his classic saying with a little humor.

I sighed. “Bye, Mr.
Christian.”

There was only one
locker room, so I took the gear out of my dad’s locker and headed
to the bathroom. I was putting on my wet suit when there was a knock,
no, a pound, on the door.

“Hurry up.”

“Yes, Zack.” I only
had so much niceness left in me. I hoped one day I wouldn’t snap,
because it would not be very becoming when it finally came out.

Zack kept the rest of
our conversations clipped and professional. I was thankful for at
least that. But what was
he
mad about?
I
was the one
who tried to do something nice for him so he could have Friday off.
He should be thanking me not blaming me. The only displeasure he
verbalized was a grunt when I said I had to leave for the night.
Apparently, he had to stay and do the paperwork. I didn’t allow
myself to feel bad about it. I had a haunted house to check out.

I texted Hayden that I
would see him soon, and then started toward downtown. I had passed
the theater countless times in my seventeen years or so of living in
New Orleans but I’d never been inside. I circled the theater on St.
Peter Street a few times before finding a spot in which I didn’t
have to parallel park. After sliding in next to a meter, I cut the
engine.
Now what?
I inhaled, afraid to think of the answer. I
already knew what I was going to do. Based on the signage, the
building was still used as a theatre and therefore open to the
public. I didn’t know if I should feel relieved or chilled to
discover I could go inside. Relief was what I settled on when I
stepped out of the car. The aroma of food in the air was almost
masking the mold and mud smell left by Katrina .

I walked around the
terra cotta colored building until I found a set of doors that wasn’t
shuttered. The theatre was two stories; a balcony with identically
shuttered doors was above me. I peeked into the window panel,
resentful that there wasn’t more activity going on inside. Do I
just go in or should I knock? It wasn’t exactly show time, but I
figured if the door was unlocked, it permitted entrance. When I
turned the knob, the creak of the old wood was the only barrier to it
opening.

Inside, the lobby was
huge and opened up into a courtyard. There were two separate theatres
on either side. I looked in both directions.

“Hello?” I softly
called out.

I sucked in a breath
and walked toward the courtyard.
Where was everyone?
The late
afternoon sun shone through into the courtyard. 1960’s style
tropical wicker furniture scattered the courtyard as did a mix of
flora from palm trees to ferns to carnations. A squawk from a bird
flying overhead broke the silence as did the sound of water trickling
from the fountain. All together, I felt as if I were in utopia. I
spun around, admiring this little piece of paradise in the Quarter.
Seriously, where was everyone?
My heart pumped at that
realization. A door above slammed from behind me and I turned around
with a jump. I looked up to the second floor balcony, trying to see
if I could see anyone inside the French doors. I was nearly on the
tips of my toes, squinting my eyes and preparing for what could
possibly appear in the windows of those doors, when the sound of
splashing made me turn around again. The frantic splashing came from
the fountain. I swallowed, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I did
not have a good feeling about discovering what was making the noise.
It sounded completely unnatural. I took a few steps toward the
fountain and peered over. My lips quivered open as I let out a gasp.
Inside the fountain was a dozen Koi, swimming wildly about. All I saw
were blurs of orange and shimmers of white as they jumped around.
Swimming as if they were trying to flee. I was entirely unsettled by
that thought. What explanation could cause them to behave like this?
I looked around, remembering this theatre was haunted. Did animals
react strangely to supernatural beings? Could the fish sense a ghost
was near? I whipped around, feeling as panicked as the fish.

“Christine?” My
voice shook, just taking a chance and hoping it was her.
Hoping it
was just the friendly, wedding-dress wearing, murdered ghost who
haunted my dream? Really, Ana?

“Can I help you?” A
male voice called out from the second floor balcony, sounding as if I
wasn’t supposed to be there.

I exhaled a breath of
relief and held a hand to my startled heart. “I’m sorry, I was
just looking around.” I shielded the sun from my eyes and looked up
at the thin, twenty-something man with dark, parted hair and thick
rimmed glasses.

“The theatre is
closed to visitors except during performances. How did you get in?”
Again his voice was suspicious and scolding.

I apologized again. “I
didn’t know. The door was open so I just thought it was okay to
come in.”

His arms were holding
the railing and I could see him relax a little. “Pauline must have
left it unlocked again.” He shook his head and muttered
admonishingly to himself. “Stay right there. I’m coming down,”
he ordered.

“Okay.” I was
starting to feel like he was right; I shouldn’t be there.