by L. J. Sealey
“Thank you again, Mr Raynor.” He said before leaving the office.
Miss Taylor smiled at him as he sat down. The chair was still warm from before.
“Can I get you a coffee or something?” she asked him as she picked up her cup from the desk and headed over to the coffee machine.
“Please. Coffee would be great.”
“Sugar? Milk?” He barely heard her ask over the noise of the machine.
“Yeah, Milk. One sugar,” he replied. Exactly how he’d drunk it before he’d died.
The slight aroma of ground coffee beans, the same smell he’d noticed when he’d first walked in, had now intensified and he couldn’t help but inhale it deep into his lungs. It was a normal, familiar smell that comforted him a little.
After the sound of hot steaming liquid dissipated, the petite blond female brought him over a steaming hot mug which had the SPU logo on it. “Be careful, it’s extra hot.” But he’d already wrapped his hand around it and taken a sip of the hot liquid by the time she’d finished speaking the warning. Michael noticed her eyes widen a little, probably surprised that it hadn’t burned him.
“Thanks,” he said, and then blew over the top of it, only for effect, before attempting to drink more.
After watching her walk back to her desk where she quietly returned to her work, Michael reached for a community magazine from the coffee table in front of him and began to flick through the pages even though he wasn’t really taking anything in.
He was pleased that he’d managed to get through the meeting with Mr Raynor, and that he’d done everything he was supposed to, but he had no idea what to do next. He assumed the rest of the day would be spent being shown around, learning the ropes and other things, so was pretty certain he wouldn’t be teaching any classes until tomorrow which was probably for the best considering he knew nothing about psychology. Not needing any sleep was going to be pretty handy tonight as he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get any. Instead, he’d be spending the night studying for tomorrow’s classes.
It will be a miracle if I manage to pull this off.
It wasn’t long until the reception door opened and in walked a tall, attractive woman with sleek, long, blond hair. She was tidily dressed in a navy coloured pencil skirt which stopped just below her knees and a casual, maroon V-neck sweater. The scent of her perfume followed her into the room, filling the air with a sweet, floral fragrance and. . . apple?
Miss Taylor pointed over to Michael as she spoke to the woman. “Morning, Lacy. This is Mr Warden. He’s the new sub filling in for Joanne Hart while she’s on maternity leave.”
Michael stood to greet her as she approached him with her hand extended. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Warden,” she said with a soft British accent.
Michael realised he was still holding his nearly empty mug in one hand and the magazine he hadn’t really been reading in the other. “Uh. . . ” He fumbled and then quickly shoved the mag under his arm, freeing his hand to shake hers. “It’s Michael,” he said politely. “Please, call me Michael.” As he looked at her, he couldn’t help noticing that she had the palest green eyes he’d ever seen.
“It’s nice to meet you, Michael. I’m Lacy.” She smiled at him revealing a perfectly straight set of teeth, except for one of her bottom ones which bent inwards. “If you come with me, I’ll show you around.”
* * *
After a long day spent mostly sitting in on classes and getting a feel for how things worked around the department, Michael was finally at his apartment building. Lacy had been kind enough to show him around the lecture halls, meeting rooms, and the two counselling clinics that were regularly used by members of the community as well as students; the latter being the main focus in light of recent events. They’d finished up having coffee in the staff room before she’d asked one of her students to walk him to the building where he would be living for at least the next couple of weeks.
Benjamin Hall was one of many colonial type buildings that he’d seen on the university grounds, this one being quite small compared to the others. As he walked through one of the large oak doors he was faced with yet another reception that was on the left. This time, an older lady with short gray hair stood behind the counter, barely tall enough to see over it. She looked up at him.
“Can I help you?”
“Yeah, hi. I’m the new sub from the psychology department. I understand there’s a room available for me.” Michael towered above the woman who had to stretch her neck to look at him.
“Name?” she asked as she lifted the glasses that were hanging on a cord around her neck. She put them on and then pulled out a drawer from underneath the counter. Her voice was quite stern considering the size of her. And she wasn’t at all polite.
Michael gave her his details and she began sifting through some cards and pulled one out. “Here we are. You’re in room B-7.” She pointed across the way towards a wide staircase that was framed by a chunky oak handrail and wooden panelling which also ran around the bottom half of the walls. “It’s the first floor towards the end of the hall.” She passed him a small key ring, which had the SPU logo on it and two brass keys attached. One of the keys had blue around the ring. “The blue one is the key to this building. The door will be locked from nine every evening so that key is the only way to get in. There will be a guard on duty from then but he’s off patrolling the grounds most of the time. The other key is for your room.”
“Thanks.” Michael said.
“Can I help you with anything else?” She placed the card back in its holder amongst the others.
“No. Thanks. That’s everything.”
“Very well,” she said and carried on with her business.
The large reception area was more like a common room. It was brightly lit and the walls were painted in the university colours: some white, some navy blue. There were a few soft, brown, leather chairs and a couple of sofas to match which had low coffee tables in front of them and there were two vending machines tucked away in the far corner: one for hot drinks and the other contained snacks and sodas.
Up the stairs, Michael walked along the narrow hallway, where the decor matched the lobby, watching the small brass numbers counting upwards on the navy doors on the left-hand side until he got to his, which was the very last one opposite a floor length window that overlooked the university grounds.
Inside, the room was bigger than he’d expected. It had a spacious living area with a black leather sofa and one chair, and a TV which sat on a wooden unit in the corner by a small window. The decor was cream throughout with dark wooden floors. In the corner of the room to left was a small kitchen area which looked to have everything a person would need: kettle, stove, microwave and an under-counter fridge.
Just next to the kitchen were two doors which, after investigating further, turned out to be a small bathroom with a mirror above the sink and a very petite bedroom with just about enough room for the single bed, which was dressed, and a small closet against the far wall. It was as big as a small apartment which wasn’t what Michael expected at all. He thought he’d have a room like the dorm rooms the students usually have but this was much bigger than those.
Michael noticed some paperwork on the kitchen counter and picked up an information sheet which explained about the fire drill, where the exits were and other general safety information. There was also a list of codes for the telephone, most of which were to dial through to different areas of the campus and a code to dial out which was 09. At the bottom of the list was a Wi-Fi key and instructions on how to set up an account−faculty only. In fact the whole building had Wi-Fi which was perfect for Michael’s research and would also come in handy for the teaching he had to do. He had no idea how to teach even one class of psychology, let alone a whole term.
After fetching what little belongings he had from his car, Michael had begun to settle in. It was dark outside. Most classes had finished for the day, except for a few evening courses, which meant that the university w
as quieting down slowly. He decided to take a look around the grounds to familiarise himself with the place and thought he’d start with some food. He still loved his food almost as much as when he was alive and not having a single thing in his new apartment meant that he’d have to eat out tonight.
The fall night air was crisp. The moon bright in the sky with a hazy glow around it and one or two stars had managed to glisten through the light mist that was now creeping over. It was a perfect night for a stroll around the grounds.
He walked across the green and past the football field which was brightly lit with flood lights in all four corners. Training was over and what remained of the team−a couple of players and a coach−were walking across the grass to the exit.
He reached the food complex on the other side of the campus. It was certainly the busiest part of the campus where, he would guess, that most of the live-in students spent their early evenings socialising. There was everything they needed: several food outlets including a burger joint, a restaurant, and one bar− Lucky Seven’s, which looked quite large−situated at the end of the block. On the opposite side of the complex was an entertainment building called The Hub. It had a ten lane bowling alley, electronic video games, pool tables, computers with internet access and a shop for school sports equipment.
After familiarising himself with it all, Michael grabbed a burger from the take-out window at Denny’s Ranch: a half pounder with extra cheese and bacon, topped with Denny’s Special Barbeque Sauce−no good for the prevention of heart disease. Not like he had to worry about those kinds of health problems anymore.
He sat on a secluded bench on the grass out of the way of the busy complex and watched the students−illuminated by the tall, ornate street lamps that lit up the campus−enjoying their down time now that most classes were out.
He finished off his burger and was thinking about heading back to his room when he spotted a familiar face coming out of the bar. It was the young Goth girl from this morning. The one he’d seen at the memorial table. She was followed out by a boy who seemed to be annoyed with her. While he was still saying something to her, she stomped away from him with her head down. She cut across the grass and headed in the direction that Michael was sitting. Her long black skirt dragged on the floor and now and again revealed her purple Doc Marten boots. Her hair was backcombed into a black shoulder length mass, much like how it had been earlier, and her skin looked paler under the false lighting.
Michael remembered her looking at a photo of a young man, one of the dead students, and wondered how she knew him. He stood up and walked towards her. “Excuse me, Miss.” She clearly hadn’t seen him because she looked up at him with a startled gasp. Her face was glum and he noticed runs in her thick black eye makeup. She’d definitely been crying.
“Is everything ok?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said solemnly. “Did you want something?”
“I saw you this morning. You knew one of the boys that died didn’t you?”
The girl frowned even more than she was already. “Yeah. Why?”
“I was just wondering how you knew him.”
“Why?” she repeated. “Who are you anyway? I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Michael Warden. I’m new here. . . psychology sub,” he explained. “Someone was talking to me this afternoon about what’s happened here over the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible.” He didn’t see the harm in lying to her in this situation. After all, he couldn’t exactly be honest could he? “Oh, I’m really a dead person and I believe that an evil spirit may be responsible for your friend’s death.” Somehow, he didn’t see that going down too well.
“He’s my. . . ” she lowered her head, “was my boyfriend, Danny.” The hard edge had suddenly disappeared from her voice
“I’m sorry.” He tried his best to be sensitive as he could hear the pain in her voice. “I don’t want to trouble you. I can see it’s hard for you to talk about.”
She shook her head and her sullen tone quickly returned as she tried to hide her sadness. “No it’s fine. I mean. . . there’s nothing I can do about it now is there? He’s gone and that’s it.” Michael saw straight through it.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking but can you think of any reason why he would have done what he did? Did you know he was so unhappy?”
Nina sat down on the bench thumping her black denim bag down on the floor. Michael joined her.
“No, in fact he was the opposite.” Her voice softened again this time and Michael was surprised when she continued. “We’d both just decided to get a place together as soon as term ended. So, no one was more shocked than me when he killed himself.” A tear ran from her eye down her cheek following the trail that was already there. “He didn’t even leave a note.”
Michael pulled a napkin from his pocket that he’d got from at the take-out stand, and handed it to her.
“Thanks.” She sniffed as she wiped her eyes.
“The police are treating it as some kind of suicide pact aren’t they?”
“They’re wrong,” she snapped. “Danny only knew one of the others. Jason Miller. He was in his chem lab but Danny didn’t even like him very much. He never had that many friends. We don’t exactly fit in here.”
“And there was no other connection with any of them? Maybe you just didn’t know about something.”
She shot him a funny look. “He never kept anything from me.” Then shook her head and sighed. “Look, I was the only person who really knew him. I would have known if there was something wrong.”
“When was the last time you saw him before. . . you know?”
She hesitated. “Two days before it happened. We’d had an argument. I tried to speak to him but he wasn’t answering my texts. I figured he needed some time to calm down so I didn’t think anything of it.” Her face was blank and there were more tears balancing on the edges of her eyes ready to drop any minute.
Michael felt a little uncomfortable hitting her with so many questions but it was vital for him to get as much information as possible. “What was the argument about?”
“It wasn’t even anything serious. A guy from my English class, Jake...” She waved her hand in the direction of the bar, “He’d asked if I’d help him out a little after lessons. He was struggling with the course and wanted my help that’s all. So a couple of times we went to The Hub after class and I helped him study. It really made a difference so I continued to help him and have been for the last couple of weeks.”
“That guy you were just with?”
“Yes. Danny was fine with it to begin with but he became really unhappy about it all of a sudden. He’d always been a little insecure but it was never a real problem before. He seemed desperate about it; asked me to stop helping Jake but I told him I didn’t see any harm in it. We argued about it and I told him he was being ridiculous.” She dropped her head again and said quietly, “I never thought it would be the last time I saw him.”
Michael felt for her. On the outside, Nina looked cocky and thick skinned with an I-don’t-care-about-the-world attitude, but that really wasn’t who she was. Inside she was as vulnerable as everybody else. She just dressed differently.
She reached down for her bag and stood up to leave. “I have to get back and study.” Which was just as well as Michael didn’t feel the need to upset her any more than he already had.
“Again, I’m sorry for what happened to your boyfriend.” He stood and turned to her before leaving. “Will you be ok?” he asked with genuine concern.
She wiped her eyes which smeared her thick make up even more. “Yeah,” she nodded.
“Well, if you remember anything else, or just need to talk, I’m always on campus.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied and gave him a strained smile before walking away.
Back in his room Michael had thrown on some sweat pants, made himself a mug of coffee and was now sat on the sofa with his bare feet propped up on the coffee table and his laptop on his
knee. He had quite a lot to do to prepare for tomorrow’s lessons but, honestly, had no clue where to start. He flicked through Mrs Hart’s notes, which had been given to him earlier that day, trying to make some sort of sense of them but, honestly, they might as well have been written in Chinese for all he could understand of them.
Michael was pleased to read that she was teaching Statistical Methods in Brain and Cognitive Science at the moment which was also something he knew absolutely nothing about. By some miracle of mammoth proportions he had to know enough to teach a class about it in the morning. He had approximately eight hours.
It was going to be a very long night.
A few hours passed and, after several cups of coffee and a bacon sandwich, Michael was well on his way to constructing his first assignment at SPU. He was surprised, and relieved, at how much information was out there on the internet. The clock in the bottom corner of his laptop screen read 02:14 so he thought he deserved a break and decided to make yet another cup of coffee. Not that he had anything else in his kitchen to make. He made a mental note to go to the store after work and get some groceries. Having nothing to snack on was not helping with his all night study session.
The sound from the boiling kettle was just beginning to die down when Michael heard a noise coming from outside his building. It sounded like distant sirens. He walked over to the window, opened the curtains and peered out. He saw a flashing blue glow rising up from behind one of the student dorm buildings across the green and opened the window which increased the volume of the emergency vehicles. He saw scattered lights being switched on around the rest of the building and the one next to it. It looked like the whole campus was waking up from the commotion. He threw on a hooded sweatshirt, pulled on his Nikes and headed out to see what was happening.
By the time he reached the student dorm building a crowd had begun to gather in the parking lot trying to see what was happening. Some of the students were crying, some seemed to be in shock and one or two were even videoing the scene on their cell phones.
