Stitch (2 page)

3. Objective

The door to Janie’s room was propped open invitingly, so Alessa poked her head in.  Janie was sitting at her desk, her small frame hunched over her computer as she typed furiously, short brown hair tucked behind her ears.  Alessa remembered that in addition to the physics exam, Janie also had a paper due tomorrow.

“How’s it going?”

Janie finished the sentence she was keying and swung around in her chair.  “Well, I might bomb physics, but at least I won’t show up empty-handed to psych.”

Alessa dropped her bag and crossed the room to sit down on Janie’s bed.  Janie’s usually neat chin-length bob was mussed, dark wavy layers sticking out in all directions.  It looked like Janie could use some reassurance.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.  You took physics in high school, right?”  She began unwrapping the crinkled cellophane around her turkey club.

“Yeah.  But unlike
some
people –” Janie turned her chocolate brown eyes toward Alessa and raised her eyebrows, “
I
didn’t get the highest grade in the class.”

Before Alessa could explain that it was chemistry she had mastered – physics was after the accident, and she had barely scraped by – Janie reached for the sandwich.

“Whatcha got there?” Sooner than Alessa could react, Janie had already stolen a bite.  Despite her pixie-like proportions, Janie had a considerable appetite.  She was chewing in a loud, dramatic fashion.  “Mmm, dry turkey, tasteless vegetables, and soggy bread.  Let me guess – Van Husen basement?”

Alessa loosed a small smile and nodded as she swallowed her own bite.  “Best I could do at this hour."  It may have been a poor excuse for a sandwich, but putting food in her stomach took the edge off her hunger almost immediately, which vastly improved her mood.  “Got anything to wash this down with?”

Janie swung open the minifridge to her right and pulled out a can of iced tea.  She placed it on the edge of the desk nearest Alessa.  “Here you go.”

Janie turned back to her paper while Alessa finished off the sandwich.  Alessa loved that about Janie.  Neither of them ever felt a need to keep the conversation going just to fill the space.

With the other girls in the house, Alessa often struggled to come up with things to talk about.  They were nice enough, but Alessa often found that they were more concerned with boys and parties than Alessa had the stomach for.  She had so little in common with them that it was difficult to even fill a 30 second exchange in the bathroom, and lulls in their conversation were palpably awkward.  But not with Janie.  Alessa was content just to sit in the same room as her, knowing that she’d be there to talk to if anything interesting occurred to her.  Janie felt the same.

The only other freshman in the house, Janie had had an easier time assimilating – she had a natural charisma that helped her get along with anyone – but privately, Janie had expressed the same frustrations that Alessa felt.  It was clear that she and Janie were different from the other girls in the house and they knew that they would never truly fit in.  Alessa was just glad that they had found each other.

Janie was the one bright spot in an existence that Alessa had had difficulty feeling more than apathetic about lately.  A spunky, sharp little bundle of energy, Janie had the same fire in her that Alessa had once had, and Alessa found that being around Janie made her forget about her troubles for a while.  For some reason that Alessa couldn’t fathom, Janie had been drawn to Alessa as well, and the two had become fast friends.

As Alessa drained the last few sips of iced tea, Janie tapped a few keys with a sense of finality and sat back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her face as she turned towards Alessa.  “So, how are things with your phantom boyfriend?”

Alessa laughed.  “I know it’s ridiculous. I feel like I’ve spent so much time obsessing over this when I should be focusing on my grades or trying to hang out with some people we met during freshman orientation –”

“Or trying to find a
real
boyfriend,” Janie interrupted.  She gave Alessa a meaningful look.

“Or trying to find a real boyfriend, yes.  It’s just… I don’t know.  I guess it’s the first time I’ve felt excited about something since my parents died.”

“I just don’t understand what you’re hoping to get out of this.  If what you’re seeing really is a ghost – and I’m not entirely convinced yet that it’s not just some kind of mental break –”

“Thanks.”

“You know what I mean.  I guess what I’m saying is, I just don’t see what the end game is here. He’s dead, you’re not – so where is this going?”

Alessa sighed and hung her head.  Janie had a point.  Where was this headed?  Certainly nowhere useful.  “I know, I know.  I’m just so curious to find out who he is, why he’s hanging around here.  You know?”

Janie’s expression softened.  “I’m just worried about you, Less.  You’ve been so distracted lately…”  Her tone changed back to goading.  “And you look like shit.”

Alessa tossed a throw pillow at Janie’s head.

Janie deftly swatted it to the floor, feigning insult.  “What!  Seriously, you look like you haven’t slept in days.  Have you been studying that much?”

“Oh God no.  I just haven’t been sleeping well.  I keep having these dreams…”

“What kind of dreams?”

“Like a recurring dream.  It’s not exactly the same every time, but I’m always in some sort of jail cell waiting for someone to come do something horrible to me, but I’m not exactly sure what.”

“Sounds miserable.”

“I can’t even describe it.  It’s just this overwhelming sense of foreboding and despair, but at the same time I feel relieved.”

“Why relieved?”

“Because, well, the ghost is there, and I know he won’t be able to hear me being tortured or whatever.”

“The ghost is there?”

“Yeah.  I never actually
see
him, but somehow I know he’s there with me, in the prison.  I actually don’t see much of anything because it’s very dark and the whole thing is a bit hazy.  It’s weird because the feelings are really vivid – it’s so disturbing that I have trouble going back to sleep after – but besides that things are pretty fuzzy.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah.”

There was a knock at the door and Lizzie Green bounded into the room in all her blonde, buxom glory.  “Hey girls!  Just wanted to remind you two that dues need to be paid by the end of the month.  Is that cool?”

“Sure thing,” Janie replied with a grin.  Alessa forced a smile and nodded in agreement.  She tried not to hate Lizzie – she really did – but it was just so easy.

The sorority president had never been openly hostile towards Alessa, but at the same time, it was clear that she would never have approved Alessa’s “sisterhood,” as Lizzie liked to call it, if it weren’t for the university’s policy.  And the fact that Lizzie was a walking male fantasy and obviously reveled in the fact – while simultaneously pretending that she was oblivious to her own physical gifts – inspired nothing but loathing in Alessa.  Even at seven o’clock in the morning, Lizzie always managed to look perfectly put together, not even an eyelash out of place.  It was nauseating.  Alessa knew that she was simply feeling envious of Lizzie, but all the same, she just couldn’t shake her dislike.

“Okay, great!  Have a good night, girls!”  Lizzie exited the room with an exaggerated swing of her long golden waves and Alessa promptly feigned a mild gag.  Janie rolled her eyes at Alessa’s behavior, but her smile betrayed her accord.  “She’s not
that
bad.”

Alessa chose not to respond.

“Oh!  That reminds me.”  Janie started digging through her desk drawer.  “I came across something that I thought might be of interest.”  She handed Alessa a printout of an article from the school newspaper.  A photo showed Lizzie and the other board members in front of the sorority house.  The headline read:

ESU’s Zeta Epsilon Pi Chapter Celebrates 40 Years

“What’s this?” Alessa asked.

Janie sighed.  “I figured you hadn’t been reading your emails.  There’s a big anniversary coming up in a couple days and the board hosted a small celebration with some university officials, including a local historian who works at the library.  Read the third paragraph.”

Alessa scanned the page.  In the middle of the article was a quote from a Mary Brighton, the librarian Janie was referring to.

Local historian and university librarian Mary Brighton took a few moments at the commemoration ceremony to share the history of Z-E-Pi’s chapter house.  According to Ms. Brighton, “The house which is now occupied by the Zeta Epsilon Pi sorority was one of the first properties acquired by the university during the expansion drive of the 1930s.  Eastern State officials were able to purchase 200 acres of land including the home for a very reasonable sum after the passing of a wealthy family who had owned the property.  From that time until the founding of the Zeta Epsilon Pi chapter, the building was used for offices and storage.”

This did look promising.  Alessa looked up.  “Do you think this has something to do with the ghost?”

Janie shrugged.  “The timeline seems about right and that Brighton lady made it sound like a whole family died.”

Alessa nodded in agreement and folded the printout, tucking it into her pocket. She’d read a little about the building on the ESU website, but it didn’t mention anything about the original owners.  “Thanks for this.  I haven’t put a ton of effort into researching the house yet, but nothing I came across so far went back further than the founding of Z-E-Pi.  This is the first thing I’ve seen which might actually be related.”

“I thought maybe that librarian might know who the family was and what happened to them.  Or if there are other reports of hauntings.”  Janie spoke the last word in a dramatic eerie hush as she widened her eyes.

“Don’t mock me!”  Alessa giggled at Janie’s theatrics.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d giggled at anything.

Janie grinned.  “I’m just kidding.  Seriously, though, aren’t there usually multiple reports of sightings or other ‘disturbances’ when a place is haunted?  Have you heard anyone else talk about seeing your ghastly beau?”

Alessa ignored Janie’s teasing and shook her head.  “No, but they’d be more likely to tell
you
about it than me.  Everyone seems hesitant to send more than a quick hello and goodbye in my direction.”

Sarcasm oozed from Janie’s reply.  “I wonder why.  Couldn’t be your inviting demeanor and abundant enthusiasm for life.”  She gave Alessa a scolding look before continuing.  “But no, no one’s said anything to me either, and I certainly haven’t experienced anything myself.  But who knows, maybe someone has and they’re just afraid to say anything because everyone will think they’re crazy.”

“Like you think I am?”

“Exactly.”  Janie laughed.  Alessa knew Janie believed her, even if she didn’t want to admit it.  “It just seems strange to me that you’re the only person who’s ever seen him.  It doesn’t seem to fit with any other ghost story I’ve ever heard.”

“Well maybe I’m not the only one.”  Alessa’s interest was definitely piqued.  “I’ll stop by the library after the physics exam tomorrow and see if I can find that Brighton woman.”

4. Records

“Pencils down!”  The shrill voice of the proctor rang throughout the lecture hall as the sound of scratching graphite faded to the gentle shuffling of paper against paper.  Quiet murmurs sprang up in every direction as Alessa looked over at Janie to see how she had fared.  Janie shrugged apathetically.

Alessa was about to relay her own expectations when the proctor’s voice pierced the air once more.  “No talking until all exams are turned in!”  Alessa swallowed back her comment and returned Janie’s shrug instead.  They gathered up their textbooks and calculators and headed towards the front of the class to turn in their exams.

The open book didn’t turn out to be as helpful as Alessa had hoped, but nevertheless, she still felt relatively good about her answers.  It turned out that Alessa remembered more of the physics she’d learned in high school than she had thought.  Despite last night’s failed attempt at studying, of the seven long questions on the midterm, she was confident about four, less certain about two, and had at least written
something
for the last.  She guessed that – depending on the curve, of course – she would probably wring out a B, maybe better.  That was going to have to be good enough.  She had other things on her mind.

Alessa and Janie turned in their booklets and filed out the door, swept in amongst the stream of students.  Alessa hated these big imposing lecture halls with auditorium-style seating for 400.  At first it was a little exciting – so different from her high school experience – but eventually she grew to loathe the scratchy fabric seats, the dim overhead lighting, and those cramped little desks that folded out from beside the chair.  It just didn’t feel like a classroom.

The moment they crossed the threshold, Janie began drilling Alessa.  “What’d you get for number four?”

“The ball rolling off a ramp one?”

“Yeah.”

Alessa thought for a moment.  “12.4 meters.”

Janie swore under her breath.  “Hmpf.  Hopefully they’ll give partial credit.”

“I’m sure they will.”  The last thing Alessa wanted to do right now was rehash every question on the midterm.  What’s done was done, and there was no sense in agonizing over something they couldn’t change now.

“I can’t believe Professor Liu is making us go to lecture today,” Janie moaned.  Janie wasn’t the biggest physics enthusiast and she was taking the class just to fill a science requirement.  Alessa had convinced Janie to transfer in a few weeks into the semester so that they could have a class together, so she felt partially responsible for Janie’s dread.  It did seem unfair that the university allowed professors to schedule class on the same day as the midterm.

“I know.  I’m not looking forward to it either.  But at least he didn’t assign any homework.”  As they headed out of the building, Alessa and Janie commiserated on the injustices of midterm scheduling until they reached the quad.

Alessa stopped walking and motioned toward the library.  “Have time for a little paranormal research?” she asked.

Janie smiled but shook her head.  “I’ve got to go turn in that psych paper.  But good luck!  Let me know how it goes.”

“Will do.”  Alessa and Janie parted and Alessa headed up the few steps towards the library door.

When she stepped inside, the musk of old books hit her immediately.  It wasn’t an unpleasant smell exactly, but it was a violent contrast to the fresh fall air outside.  Alessa looked up and admired the tall vaulted ceilings and heavy wood rafters.  Like most of the main campus, the library had been built in the late 1800s, a time when labor was still cheap enough that buildings were treated as detailed works of art as much as construction projects.  The architectural details in the library were stunning, from the intricate woodwork in the moldings to the stained glass windows to the Versailles-patterned tile floor.  From the entranceway, Alessa could look up four stories straight with nothing to block her view except a grand old chandelier.

She headed to the information desk and the student behind the counter looked up with a smile.  “How can I help you?”

Alessa wasn’t quite sure what to ask for.  “Hi.  Um, I’m trying to learn more about the history of my sorority house?”  She cringed.  Alessa hated feeling unsure of herself.  “I saw that a Mary Brighton was quoted as an expert in an article from
The Burrow,
” – the university was overrun with seemingly endless references to the ridiculous school mascot, and the campus newspaper was no exception – “and I think I read that she’s a librarian here?”

“Yup!  Ms. Brighton has an office up on the third floor.  Just take the steps and make a right.  It’s down past the local history section.”

“Thanks,” Alessa breathed with a smile.  She turned towards the large staircase on her left and headed up to the third floor.  Passing stacks upon stacks of books, Alessa wondered how many tomes were housed in the building.  The rows seemed almost endless.

Reaching the office, Alessa noted that the door was open.  Inside was a smallish older woman, gray hair pulled back in a severe bun, thick black glasses perched low on her nose, her neutral outfit neat but frumpy.  Alessa almost had to laugh – Mary Brighton was like a caricature, displaying every trait one might attribute to a stereotypical librarian, right down to the over-large book she was patiently paging through.

Alessa knocked gently on the wall.  The librarian pushed her glasses back to the bridge of her nose and looked up.  “Hello, dear.  What can I assist you with?”

“Hi.  I was actually interested in learning more about the history of my sorority house, Z-E-Pi, and I saw that you were at the commemoration ceremony a few days ago?”  Alessa tried not to be awkward.  She didn’t know what she was going to say if Ms. Brighton asked
why
she was interested.  She wished she had thought this through a bit more.

“Oh, absolutely.  33 Mason Manor is one of my favorite properties on the campus.  What did you want to know?”

Alessa wondered if it would be possible to avoid the subject of the ghost.  She didn’t want to be known as “the poor girl who was seeing things,” even to an old spinster that she didn’t particularly know.  Alessa took a deep breath and hoped her reply was casual enough to not betray her lie. “I’m working on a project for my history class, about the lifetime of a building.  I’m supposed to choose one building and write about all the notable people who lived or worked there.”  She looked at the librarian expectantly.

“Of course.  I can help you with that.  Just one moment.”  Mary Brighton closed the volume she’d been reading and Alessa was hit with a puff of that old book smell again.  Ms. Brighton stood up.  “Come with me.”

A few moments later, Alessa was seated at another uncomfortable study desk, this time in the back corner of the library’s third floor.  Mary Brighton had known exactly where to find all the old town records, dating all the way back to the 1700s.  Alessa was pretty sure that the ghost was from the late 1800s or early 1900s based on his clothes, though her limited knowledge of historical fashion was gleaned mainly from movies, and who knew how accurate they might be.  There was a thick book for every decade from 1760 to 1999, after which Ms. Brighton had explained that the records were electronic.  Alessa was worried she’d have to page through all 24 books to keep up the pretext for her research, but the librarian had given her a break when she mentioned that the house was built in the 1870s, knocking almost half the books off her list.

Alessa picked up the first book and paged through to get acquainted with the organization.  The book was broken down by year, then the properties were listed alphabetically by address.  There was an entry any time a property was built, destroyed, or changed hands, with the date and any involved parties listed alongside it.  Alessa started with 1870 and skipped to the M section, scanning the page for 33 Mason Manor.

Nothing. 

She tried 1871.  Still nothing.

Alessa continued in this manner until she came across the first entry in 1878:

Mason Manor, No. 33.  New Construction, completed October 14th on 148 acres.  Owner: Albert B. Mason.  Residents: Albert B. Mason & Elizabeth Mason, children Albert Mason Jr., 3, and William Mason, 1.

Now she had a start.  If the young man she was seeing was from the 1890s, it could be Albert Jr. or William.  She noted that the last name of the residents was the same as the address – she supposed they had named the property after the family.

Alessa continued reading.  There was nothing more in the first book, nor in the second or third.  It was in the fourth volume – 1900s – that Alessa had another hit:

Mason Manor, No. 33.  New Owner, Albert Mason Jr., as of April 25th.  Residents: Albert Mason Jr. & Martha Mason, children Isaac Mason, 6.

That entry was from 1906, adding Isaac Mason as another possibility.  Alessa read for a few more moments, and found one more related record in 1908.  The family had acquired another 40 acres of land adjacent to the property and there was an additional entry beside Isaac under the children, a one year old Josephine Mason.

If it was Isaac, the ghost she was seeing was probably from between 1915 and 1920.  She knew from the Z-E-Pi article that the university had purchased the property in the 30s, so that left two or three volumes to go through to narrow down the possibilities. 

Unfortunately, though, it would have to wait.  Alessa glanced at the clock and realized she had only 20 minutes until her physics lecture, and she still needed to run home and grab her laptop, which she had forgotten in her rush to get to the midterm that morning.

Alessa jotted down the information she had found and resolved to come back the next time she had a few free moments.  She stacked the volumes of records chronologically and carried them back to the shelves from which Mary Brighton had taken them.  She took one last look at the clock – 17 minutes.  That was just enough time to dash across campus, grab her computer, and meet Janie at the science building.