Haunted Tales

by Terri Reid

“What? Ouch!” Clarissa cried as she walked into a tall bookshelf.

  The Youth Services librarian hurried across the room from her desk. “Are you okay?” she asked, bending over to examine the red mark on Clarissa’s forehead.

  Tears shining in her eyes, Clarissa nodded. “Uh huh,” she replied, embarrassed and achy. “I’m fine.”

  “Did you trip?” the woman asked, looking around for a ripple in the carpet or some other obstruction that would have caused the accident.

  Clarissa shook her head. “No,” she admitted. “I just didn’t see it.”

  “But you were walking towards it,” the librarian said, confused.

  Clarissa sighed. How was she going to explain that she was looking sideways instead of forward? Looking for ghosts was hard. Then she had a thought, and her face brightened. “My mom once walked into a fort that she didn’t see,” she supplied. “I guess it runs in the family.”

  The librarian looked even more confused. “Well, I suppose so,” she said, standing up, “As long as you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine,” Clarissa said, pasting a smile on her face. “Really.”

  As soon as the librarian turned around, Maggie grabbed Clarissa’s hand and pulled her down the aisle between the stacks to a small table tucked into a hidden corner. She helped Clarissa into a chair and hugged her. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  A few tears slipped down Clarissa’s cheek, but she nodded at her friend. “I’m fine,” she sniffed. “But I don’t think I’m going to look for ghosts in the library anymore.”

  “Don’t worry, Clarissa,” Maggie said. “I can find a ghost for you. This is one of my special ghost places.”

  Clarissa wiped her eyes and looked around slowly. “There’s a ghost here?” she whispered.

  Maggie nodded and pointed to a darkened corner with some leather-bound books behind a glass case. Clarissa’s eyes widened in amazement as the glass case opened by itself and a book slowly slid from its place and floated in the air. Then it settled on its back and opened wide, the pages slowly flipping from front to back.

  “The books are floating,” she whispered excitedly. “They are actually floating.”

  Maggie shook her head. “No, there’s a ghost in the aisle taking the book out and looking through it,” she said.

  “There’s a ghost in there? Really?” Clarissa exclaimed. “I want to see it.”

  “Try squinting your eyes,” Maggie said.

  Clarissa scrunched up her face and squinted as hard as she could.

  “Can you see him?” Maggie asked.

  Clarissa shook her head. “No, and the squinting makes my head hurt.”

  “Try looking sideways,” Maggie suggested.

  Clarissa moved her head so it was facing forward and then she moved her eyes sideways. The air in front of the glass case seemed to ripple, like the air above a sidewalk in the summertime. “I think something’s happening,” she said excitedly. “The air is wiggling.”

  Maggie nodded. “Keep it up,” she said. “I think it’s working.”

  Clarissa tried to bring the wiggles into focus, but they just remained soft and blurry. “I don’t see anything but blurs.”

  Maggie sighed. “Well, at least you saw something. Maybe it’s going to take some practice.”

  Staring at the wiggling air for a few more moments, Clarissa nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed. “It took me a really long time to learn Double Dutch.”

  “And the books floating in the air is pretty scary,” Maggie said. “Maybe you could tell that story.”

  “The books were cool,” Clarissa agreed, turning her eyes to look at her friend. “But I want something even better.”

  “I’ll see if my mom can bring us back here tomorrow after school,” Maggie said. “Then we can practice again.”

  “Thanks, Maggie,” Clarissa said. “You’re my best friend ever.”

  Chapter Seven

  Bradley was standing in front of the hall mirror when Mary entered the house that afternoon.

  “Do I look like I’m gaining weight?” he asked, standing sideways and critically assessing himself.

  Mary looked down at her protruding belly and then back at the slim, muscular man she loved. “Are you kidding me?” she asked, dropping her briefcase on the table next to the door. “Do you really want to go there?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at his wife and shook his head. “But you’re not fat,” he said. “You’re pregnant and, actually, pretty damn sexy, too.” He looked back in the mirror. “But Stanley said he thought I was getting a little thick around the middle.”

  Holding back a smile, Mary walked up behind him. She slid her arms around his waist, as far as her arms would reach with her belly in the way, and said, “Were you, by chance, eating any of Rosie’s cooking that Stanley would prefer not sharing?” she asked.

  He looked at her reflection, and his eyes widened. “Well, yeah, I was eating a blueberry muffin,” he replied.

  “And did you take a second muffin once he made the comment?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “No, I didn’t.”

  Mary grinned at him. “He’s playing with your mind, Chief,” she said with a wink.

  A sigh of relief passed through Bradley’s lips. “I didn’t think I was gaining weight,” he said shaking his head. “He had me glancing at my reflection all day.”

  “Well, from my perspective,” Mary said, “that would have been a lovely way to spend the day.”

  He slowly turned around and wrapped his arms around her, lowering his face to kiss her thoroughly. “Did I happen to mention how sexy you look when you’re pregnant?” he asked, kissing her jawline.

  She moaned softly. “Did I happen to mention that Clarissa was going with the Brennans to the library after school today and is going to be coming home a little late?” she sighed.

  Bradley lifted his head and looked down at his wife with a smile. “I’ve been reading about exercising during pregnancy,” he murmured, slowly running his hands across her back and pulling her even closer.

  “You have?” she whispered back.

  He lowered his head to her neck and nibbled against the sensitive skin on her collarbone. Her skin began to warm, and her heart pounded in her chest. “Um, hmmm,” he said. “It’s supposed to be very, very good for you.”

  He reached up and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse and continued his exploration against her soft skin. “Good for me?” she stuttered, feeling her knees going weak and leaning against him.

  He looked up, met her eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. The passion and hunger she saw in his eyes were genuine, and her body responded in kind. “Mary, we need to go upstairs,” he whispered hoarsely. “Now.”

  A shiver coursed through her body, and she exhaled softly. Then she shrieked when he bent over and scooped her up in his arms. “Bradley, put me down,” she insisted. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  He kissed her again, taking his time to explore the nuances of her lips, taste her passion and demonstrate his own desire. Finally, breathing heavily, he lifted his head and looked down at her.

  Panting, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Bradley,” she pleaded softly. “Carry me upstairs. I don’t think I can walk anymore.”

  A satisfied smile curled his lips, and he lifted her even further in his arms. “It will be my pleasure,” he replied, his voice laced with desire. “And yours too, I hope.”

  She laid her head against his chest, feeling the strength of his flexed muscle and hearing the steadiness of his heartbeat. “I’m sure it will be,” she murmured, reaching up to kiss his neck. “I’m sure it will be.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Bradley asked later that evening as Mary prepared to meet Andrew in Polo.

  “Where are you going, Mom?” Clarissa asked from the kitchen table where she was working on a school project.

  “I’m going to walk through an old school,” she repl
ied, slipping an oversized, black sweatshirt over her head and then over her belly. “A man wants me to help him find his fourth grade teacher.”

  She turned to Bradley and smiled. “I’m fine,” she said. “Besides, you have to practice your ghost-telling skills on Clarissa.”

  “Yeah, I need to hear more about Earl,” Clarissa added. “It was getting scary. Really.”

  Bradley shook his head and lowered his voice. “It’s slightly humiliating when your eight-year-old daughter is trying to boost your confidence,” he said.

  She smiled wickedly at him and ran her hand slowly up his arm. “Well, from where I’m standing you don’t need any boost in your confidence,” she whispered.

  He smiled back down at her and nodded. “Same goes,” he whispered back. “You still take my breath away.”

  “Yeah, well, that was from carrying me upstairs,” she teased.

  He laughed and placed a quick kiss on her lips. “Be careful and hurry home,” he said.

  “I promise,” she replied and then turned to Clarissa. “I’m driving past the store on my way down to Polo. Do you need anything?”

  “Did you get candy for the Halloween party at school?” she asked.

  “Thanks for reminding me,” Mary replied. “I’ll stop by and get some. Anything special?”

  “No peanuts,” Clarissa said. “That’s the rules.”

  “Got it,” Mary said. “No peanuts.”

  “But, if a bag of candy bars with peanuts and caramel happens to make it into the cart,” Bradley whispered, “I’ll take care of them.”

  She grinned. “Oh, I see we aren’t worried about gaining weight anymore.”

  “Not if I’m exercising regularly,” he countered with a wink. “Besides, I’ll share.”

  “Well then, you’ve got a deal,” she replied. Then she raised her voice back to its normal level. “Okay you two, have fun telling ghost stories. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  “Have fun,” Clarissa called.

  “Thanks,” she replied as she picked up her purse and headed for the door.

  The autumn evening was crisp and clear. The moon was just above the horizon and was nearly full. Mary hoped it would be full for Halloween night. There was nothing like a full moon for trick-or-treating.

  She drove south on Highway 26 past the last retail area in town and onto the rural farmland that surrounded the city. A few large combines were in the fields harvesting the last of the corn crop, their headlights glaring brightly as they moved up and down the rows. Mary kept her eyes on the road, trying to avoid the blinding light.

  She moved away from the combines and reduced her speed a little as she entered one of the smaller towns. Fields gave way to houses that lined the highway, their lawns neatly manicured and covered with gold and red leaves from the maple and oak trees standing lookout in the front yards. Windows glowed with warm light that was soft and inviting, but the porches were a fearsome collection of the decorations of the season: pumpkins, inflatable ghosts, cardboard coffins and other spooky creatures that Mary knew delighted the children in the community as they looked forward to Halloween night.

  She continued down the highway, and twenty minutes later she was pulling up in the large parking lot in front of the school. The asphalt of the parking lot was fractured, and weeds had sprung up between the cracks, creating a squiggly patchwork of crumbled blacktop, solid surface and dried plants. Carefully driving across the lot, she pulled up as close to the front door as she could.

  Stepping out of the car, she took a long look at the old school. The two-story tall portico was supported by ornate columns that in early days, Mary thought, must have been beautiful. But now the ceiling of the decorative entranceway was rotted and splintered. The paint on the columns was nearly non-existent, and what remained was yellowed and chipped. Mary stepped carefully over the broken boards and rubbish that lay in front of the entranceway and walked to the front door. Peering through the broken front window, Mary tried to see into the interior of the school, but it was too dark inside to see anything.

  “Excuse me, can I help you?” said a male voice.

  Mary turned to see an older man walking towards her from the backyard across the alley from the school, wiping his hands on a rag. Mary glanced behind him and saw the automobile he’d evidently been working on. “Hi,” she said. “Sorry to interrupt you. I’m here to meet someone.”

  “You don’t look like a demolition expert,” he replied with a shake of his head. “That’s all this old school needs, a date with a wrecking ball.”

  She sighed. He was probably right. “That’s so sad,” she said. “It looks like it once was a great building.”

  He nodded. “Yes, my wife, her brothers and even her father attended that school,” he said. “They have good memories of it. But now, it’s an eyesore and a danger.”

  “Danger?” Mary asked.

  He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “One of these days a good wind is just going to blow it over,” he said, and then he winked at her. “Just teasing you, girl.”

  He paused for a moment and studied her. “Hey, don’t I know you?” he asked.

  Mary shrugged. “I’ve never really been in Polo before tonight,” she confessed.

  He snapped his fingers decisively. “That’s it, you’re that gal from the paper,” he said. “Think you can see ghosts.”

  Mary closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. Would she ever stop regretting her decision to do that article?

  “Yes, that was me,” she admitted. “I’m Mary O’Reilly.”

  “Dale. Dale Epperly. I had an aunt who saw ghosts,” he said, nodding his head. “Course, she also talked with the barnyard animals, so we never did pay her no mind.”

  “Well, thank you for that,” Mary replied, not quite sure how she should respond.

  Dale nodded. “Sure, no problem,” he said earnestly, and then he motioned with his head in the direction of the car. “Well, since you ain’t no arsonist, guess I’ll get back to my car.”

  “Yes, please,” Mary insisted. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  He nodded his head at her and then walked back across the alley to peer underneath the hood of his car. A moment later she heard the rattle of the door in front of her and looked up as Andrew pushed the school’s door open. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, stepping out into the night air. “Thanks so much for meeting me here.”

  Mary pointedly looked around and then turned back to Andrew. “Are you sure it’s safe to go in there?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Oh sure,” he said. “This place was built like a rock.” Lifting a hand, he slapped it against one of the pillars, and Mary had to jump out of the way when a shower of rotted wood rained down on them.

  “What kind of rock?” she asked skeptically.

  He shook his head and laughed. “The inside is much better than the outside,” he assured her. “Come on, I’ll give you the VIP tour.”

  He turned and stepped back inside. After a moment, Mary heard a series of clicks, and to her delight the lights came on inside the school. “See, all the modern conveniences you could ask for,” he said with a smile.

  “That’s much better,” she said, stepping into the hallway. She started to say something else, but her words froze in her mouth when she heard a scream of terror and the sound of a body falling down the stairs.

  Chapter Nine

  “What?” Andrew asked, seeing the terrified look on Mary’s face.

  “Didn’t you hear that scream?” she asked, not waiting for a response and hurrying down the hall towards the staircase. She arrived just in time to see a woman splayed across the top of the staircase, blood dripping from the crack in her skull, slowly disappear in front of her.

  “Did you see her?” Andrew asked. “Did you see Miss Banks?”

  Nodding slowly, Mary started up the stairs to where she’d seen the body. “Was this where they found her?” she asked.

  “Yeah, this is the s
pot,” he said. “Our classroom was just up the hall.”

  Mary took a deep, steadying breath. The body on the stairs had looked like she’d fallen backwards or had been pushed. Perhaps Andrew was right.

  “Did they say how they thought it happened?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “They said she must have had her arms full and didn’t see the first step.”

  “But that doesn’t explain her facing up position,” Mary said.

  “She wasn’t facing up,” Andrew said. “The police report says that the janitor found her facing down.”

  “Facing down?” Mary repeated.

  Nodding, he climbed the stairs to the top. “They said that her feet were on the third step and she was facing down, her head against the railing,” he said. “I got a copy of the report after I bought the school, just to see if I could find anything.”

  Mary shook her head. “Someone moved the body,” she said. “I just saw what she looked like, and she was definitely facing up. Her feet might have still been up on the third step, but the fall was more like she stepped backwards onto the staircase.”

  “So, if someone moved the body…” he began.

  She nodded. “At the very least, we know that someone was here when she died.”

  “Someone who wanted to disguise how she really died,” Andrew inserted.

  “Yeah,” Mary agreed. “And most people don’t need to disguise an accident.”

  She climbed up the remaining stairs and stood next to him. “But solving a crime after forty years with no suspects and no evidence isn’t easy,” she said.

  “I don’t want to give up,” he said determinedly.

  “Well, neither do I,” she agreed. “I just want you to know that we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  He sighed softly and nodded. “Okay, what’s next?”

  “Well, let’s head over to the classroom and hope Miss Banks will show up and tell us who her killer was,” Mary said. “That would make things so much easier.”

  Footsteps echoed in the empty school as they made their way past gray, metal lockers and bulletin boards with decade old notices on them. The doors to most of the classrooms were open, and Mary could see row after row of abandoned, wooden desks. The counters adjacent to the large windows were mostly empty, with an occasional book or discarded lunchbox on them.