There had been tales of another vision associated with Little Round Top, so, taking our chances, we began to work our way down the western slope. Maybe it was just good fortune for a quartet of novice ghost hunters, because it was not long before Kipp’s head lifted with interest, and he encouraged us to once again view the world from his eyes. Ahead, picking its way with care down the rock strewn slope was a horse. Of course, the animal was not living, and I knew if I tried to run my hand along its sweaty, trembling flank that there would be no substance. At one point, the animal turned its head towards us, nostrils flaring as if it was trying to take in our scent. The horse’s eyes had an unnatural, dull red glow, and even though I perceived no threat, the hair raised involuntarily on the back of my arms. Astride the horse was a man, dressed in a nondescript uniform, whose head was missing. The man’s neck, a pale, shimmering stump, ended in a mass of torn flesh. Despite being headless, the body of the man turned towards us, and I felt a jolt of anxious horror as I expected him to guide the beast he road towards our party. But after a moment’s hesitation, he nudged the horse, using his knees, his hands lightly holding the reins, on down the slope. Peter’s mouth fell open, forming a perfect “O” of astonishment.
“What did you get, Kipp?” Elani asked, trying to act casual, but in reality she was as shocked as the rest of us.
“Not much, since I didn’t really get a chance to have contact. Quite simply, the man is looking for his lost head.” Kipp looked at me, his eyes bright, plumed tail waving slightly in the almost nonexistent wind. For a moment, I thought he’d made an attempt at clever humor before deciding he spoke the truth.
The afternoon was getting away from us, and I admit I was hot, tired and feeling lost. The thin shirt I wore was plastered to my body from sweat, and grit covered all other exposed skin surfaces. With plans to revisit another site the next day, which would be our last, we returned to our hotel. The rooms were clean but furnished with the typical items found in most low to moderate budget hotels. Technicorps didn’t offer first class accommodations to its travelers, but since I’d spent many a night on the floor of a cave–as well as a memorable week in a shed with only a partial roof and a sagging rear wall—the room seemed pretty sweet. I noticed that some of the faux veneer made to look like wood paneling was peeling off the side of the cabinet. Overhead, a light bulb had blown, leaving its lonely companion the job of providing illumination to the dim room. After hot showers, we gathered in Peter and Elani’s room where a delivery boy had brought a box lid full of Chinese takeout containers. Kipp sniffed with care, the whites of his eyes showing, as I spooned out a large portion of beef and broccoli on a bed of white rice. After one careful lick, he began to almost inhale the food.
“I can now assume you like Chinese food?” I asked, laughing.
He nodded, too busy to answer as he started on a plate of lo mein. Elani wasn’t far behind as she polished off two containers full of chicken with vegetables. She found the baby corn to be particularly fascinating as it crunched between her teeth.
“So, what did your mom have to say?” I asked Peter as I relaxed in a chair, my appetite satiated for the moment.
He darted a look at me as he set his plate aside. We were all too tired to concentrate on Clue or Monopoly, and it was nice to just eat and have little else to consume our normally busy minds. Peter was wearing his horn rimmed glasses which made him look older and wiser. He was, in actuality, a bright young symbiont who happened to be lacking in judgment department. I still struggled with the notion that I was given the job to teach him such a quality…one barely managed by myself. His brown eyes met mine as he swung the heavy forelock of hair to the side.
“She said the things all mothers say, I guess. She misses me, wants to know if I’m okay, if I’m eating enough, am I getting enough sleep…you know the routine.” His voice sounded dull.
“Yes, I had a mother, too,” I replied. “What’s bugging you?”
He paused, reaching down to push a half eaten egg roll to one side of the paper plate. Peter was typically pretty animated and energetic but at that moment looked like a balloon that was slowly losing air.
“I want to be a traveling symbiont,” he said. “I want to time shift with Elani and research the past.” He stood, running his hand through his thick hair. “But here we are,” he remarked with an exaggerated hand gesture, “looking for ghosts, which seems to be a ridiculous waste of time. I can’t help but think this is just a way Philo and the Twelve have to punish me for my inadequacies and poor decision making during our first real trip together.” If he had been about eight years of age, he might have pouted, too.
I looked at Kipp, who had exited from his comfortably predictable spot in the back of my mind. He did that, from time to time, when he wanted me to sort things out on my own. Elani had stopped eating, finally, and was delicately licking some white sauce from her paw.
“Peter, if you think this assignment is about you, then you are more egocentric than I thought,” I said, ignoring his raised eyebrows. “I assure you, the Twelve do nothing to punish or to make a point. Their directions to us are larger than that and with bigger consequences for humanity. If we screw up, we get pulled off until we can prove we will function as per expectations.”
It was difficult for me to take the side of reason, since I had my own issues with the Twelve. Just thinking about the control that body exerted over my actions and the choices I made caused my shoulders to knot with tension; rolling my head, I took a deep breath and tried to dispel the feeling. Maybe it was always easy to criticize the ones who held the reins of power, especially when I had no desire to hold them myself. Being a routine player in the collective of symbionts was enough for me. Did I lack ambition? Probably. Or maybe I was just content with life in general. Best guess was that it was a little of both.
“So while many things may be about you, this is not one of them,” I picked back up with Peter, who seemed to need a mild correction. “You messed up during our General trip, and you need to consider yourself fortunate that the Twelve didn’t ground you permanently.” I knew I sounded harsh, but heck, he was a grown up and I wasn’t his mother. Kipp opened his eyes wide as he looked at me; Elani avoided eye contact all together and stared at an invisible spot on the carpet.
Peter’s face reddened, and he started to reply but obviously thought better of it and walked over to gaze out the window of his room. We were on the second floor which afforded us a nice view of the countryside of that part of Pennsylvania, which was picturesque with its gently curving land that dipped into low valleys where pale mist would linger until mid morning. Sunset loomed; the shadowed disc of a once important sun was now an afterthought as it hung, diminished, behind lavender and coral cloud banks that spilled unevenly across the horizon. The sky was filled with soft color that must have been designed to soothe the beasts of the earth as twilight fell.
Kipp rose, signaling our departure. I knew he thought I’d given Peter enough of a sermon for the day, and it was time to reel me in. We walked back to our room, dodging a family who had just arrived and approached us on the narrow walkway. The father gripped the hand of his daughter tightly upon spying the massive Kipp who began to wag his tail to signal no harm would come from him. Once back in our room, I plopped in a chair and returned Kipp’s stare.
“So, what was bugging you?” he asked, shamelessly borrowing the question I’d thrown at Peter. Folding his haunches, he sat opposite me, his eyes almost level with mine.
“I’m not sure. I’ll apologize to Peter in the morning.” I sighed, closing my eyes.
“He’s doing a good job, and you know it,” Kipp persisted.
It was rare I was aggravated with my best friend and bonded partner, but he was getting annoying, and he, of course, knew it.
“I never wanted to be a mentor for young symbionts,” I began. There was an unpleasant whine in my tone. “And here we are, looking for ghosts in Pennsylvania, when there are other things you and I could be doi
ng. I wonder if this assignment had more to do with giving Peter a break, considering his mistakes during our last trip out, than evaluating your talents at ghost communication.” Raising my eyebrows, I added, “Maybe Peter is right, and it’s all about him.” Leaning forward, I began to unlace my athletic shoes; the feelings of discouragement and uncertainty returned with a vengeance. “I used to know what I wanted to do and my place in the general scheme of things.”
Kipp almost bounced forward and gave me a big, sloppy, wet lupine kiss on my cheek. Once there, he nuzzled close, the stiff whiskers on his muzzle tickling my flesh.
“Petra, if the Twelve had wanted to restrict Peter and Elani, they would have just done it. None of this has to do with us. And, yes, I think they are genuinely curious as to my abilities. And, no, I don’t care for it either. All of this is uncomfortable.” He’d sat again, his face close to mine. “And when we get back, I intend upon telling them I won’t be ghost hunting anymore.”
“What if they insist?” I asked.
“I’ll still say no, and they can’t force me.”
A determined Kipp was something to be reckoned with. And with his ability to conceal parts of his mind from me, I would never be sure if he was just telling me what he thought I wanted to hear or if it accurately reflected his thoughts and feelings. In any case, he had made up his mind and nothing, short of a miracle, would change him.
I started to pick up the phone before deciding I would just knock on Peter’s telepathic mind and ask to speak. In a moment, I did just that, giving an apology for my rude and abrupt behavior with him, as our thoughts traveled back and forth between the thin walls of our rooms.
“Oh, it’s okay, Petra. I wasn’t offended…well, I was at first but I got over it. Maybe you’re right. We have to be able to take direction, and that is just the way this works.” He pushed some cheerfulness in his thoughts. “I plan on getting a really good night sleep and tackle the next obstacle at the college, tomorrow.”
He really was a good kid. I hoped I wouldn’t ruin him with my irritable self.
Chapter 4
Peter was behind the wheel the next morning; he liked to drive and being an observant passenger suited me just fine. Although this current assignment had some loose objectives, we could leave whenever we desired, and that would be today, if I had my druthers. Peter maneuvered the SUV up the winding, scenic drive that led to Gettysburg College. Our timing involved visiting when the school was between terms, and only a few scattered cars littered the parking lots. The school, especially Pennsylvania Hall, was replete with tales of specters and ghostly sightings. Technicorps had obtained the necessary permission for us to bring the lupines on campus to thread our way through the corridors of what was now an administrative building but had been once known as “Old Dorm”. The large white building stood out prominently in the early morning sunlight. We’d been blessed with good weather, but it seemed the forecast was changing with the promise of storms by early evening.
We parked beneath the welcomed shade of a massive oak with the hope our vehicle’s interior would not become as hot as the interior of a blast furnace. Craning my neck, I tilted my head back and squinted against the glare of the sun as I gazed at the famous cupola crowning “Old Dorm”, which was said to be the home of soldiers, ghostly ones, who would point into the distance as if to attract the attention of a superior. That particular morning, the circular wood construct was empty, save for a solitary crow perching nonchalantly upon one of the timbered sides before taking flight with an iridescent flash of blue black wings.
“Maybe the ghost is on a smoke break,” Kipp quipped, pressing his heavy body against my legs.
Peter jogged ahead to let the staff know we’d be wandering through the building, with a particular focus on the basement. Thanks to the careful pre-arrangements, there was no explanation needed. As we waited for him to return, I realized that Kipp was carefully guarding his thoughts, and I edged up to him to lightly touch his upright ears.
“What’s up?” I asked, my query for him only and not audible to Elani, who was caught in mid-yawn.
“Petra, I don’t want to go in there,” Kipp replied, his amber eyes meeting mine. “I think I know what I’ll see, and it will be worse than anything before.” He exhaled slowly. “I don’t want to do it.”
I realized the admission was difficult for him, since he typically was happy to take on all adventures. As I scratched between Kipp’s ears, I watched Peter walk back towards us, swinging his arms and whistling.
“Peter, I’ve changed my mind,” I said, noting the cloud of disappointment cross his brow. “I don’t think this is a good idea, and we have proven what we came here to prove, and that is Kipp can communicate telepathically with spirits.” As Peter stared at me, I added, “I’ve heard about the elevator that drops to the basement, even when you don’t want to go there, and it frightens me. Period.” I hoped my point wasn’t made too lightly.
We desperately needed some type of diversion, at least I knew Peter did, since his plans had been dashed by me. He probably thought I was bossy, which I could be at times, and I was at that moment. There was a green field to the right of the building where two young men were tossing a Frisbee back and forth, their laughter challenging the somber mood of four, lost symbionts. I will never be sure, but I think Elani figured out what had happened with Kipp, and before we knew it, she teased him out onto the field, much to the delight of the two men, who began to fling the disc higher and farther, watching Elani and Kipp chase the soaring object. Kipp only thought he was faster than Elani, but along with his muscles came bulk and the more streamlined Elani flew across the grass like winged Pegasus, her gossamer fur stretching over her lean body. Kipp became more and more frustrated as she out maneuvered him time and time again. As the humans played with what they thought to be two dogs, I turned my attention to Peter, who was brooding.
“I’m sorry,” I began. “I know you are disappointed.”
“The only thing that disappoints me is that you weren’t really honest,” he replied, staring at me. “This was obviously about Kipp and not you, and you could have said so.”
What can one say to such directness? As I let him simmer, the thought came to me that he had matured greatly since the time I first met him working at the library under the stern eye of Fitzhugh. That job had not been a good fit for a young, eager symbiont who wanted to travel. And he’d even gone against the wishes of his protective, hovering mother who had planned for him to marry and fill her holidays with screaming grandchildren. I had to smile.
“What?” he asked, his eyes darkening that I would find his comments humorous.
“I like you,” I replied, linking my arms with his. “I thought I did before, but now I’m sure of it. And, yes, I wanted to protect Kipp, and it was wrong of me to lie.” I blinked in the sun as the light was a little too bright, and I’d left my sunglasses in the SUV where they did me absolutely no good at all. Lifting my hand, I used it as a shade as my eyes followed the antics of the two racing lupines.
“Well, I like you, too, Petra. But just don’t treat me like a kid,” he said.
I was proud I managed to not fire back one of my zingers, such as ‘then don’t act like one’. It took a fair amount of self control on my part.
The original plans for our trip included a visit to the Hummelbaugh House, where the ghost of a confederate general and his eternally loyal dog lingered. But we’d lost our zest for anything else and simultaneously made the decision to head for home. Even the perpetually energetic and curious Peter had enough of haunted places. To the west, the clouds, which were dark and swollen with the threat of rain, were moving in quickly, and the looming change in weather seemed prophetic, almost giving a nod to our collective decision to leave.
“It’s a six hour drive,” Peter remarked. “If we start now, we can get home by late today or even stop if the weather breaks.”
With nods of agreement all around, we returned to our hotel, packed up our
meager belongings —there is something to be said for traveling light—and checked out. By the time we left Gettysburg, the wind whistled and moaned as it spun through the groves of trees, and the sky, which had been bright and cheerful, became overcast and dark, blocking the sun from view. I had a fanciful notion that the ghosts of Gettysburg were happy to see us leave. Peter managed to quickly pick up the interstate, and we’d only traveled about two hours when the navigation device warned of a traffic snarl ahead. Fortunately an exit was near, and Peter swung off before we became entangled in a jam that was the result of an unfortunate accident. By that time, the clouds were almost black overhead, accompanied by the soft, rolling rumble of thunder; the smell of rain filled the air. After three attempts, we found a motel that accepted pets, and we were checked in and in our rooms, which were side by side, in less than twenty minutes.
“Let’s get cleaned up,” I suggested. The hot day and sticky, oppressive weather had left me feeling damp and gritty. “Then let’s order pizza and start a Monopoly tournament.” I spoke with more cheer than I actually felt. There was a part of me that wished we’d never started the ghost exploration, mostly due to the fact it was stressful for Kipp. But another part of me–that suspicious part with occasional trust issues–wondered if Elani was correct, and Kipp could be easily used by Technicorps, almost as if he was a novelty act about whom they could brag to other collectives.
In less than an hour, we had a couple of hot pizzas on the table and were setting up the Monopoly set on the floor. We’d spread out a blanket, and Peter, in his compulsive way, was sorting the money by denominations as well as herding the tiny green houses and red hotels into neat piles. The lupines, especially Kipp, loved the game but needed help with handling the money and moving the tokens. Having to work with paws was a minor constraint for our dog-like brethren.
Kipp began to munch on a slice of cheese pizza. Peter had ordered the thin, hand tossed style that Kipp preferred. “Glad you left off the onions and green peppers,” Kipp remarked between mouthfuls. “I get indigestion and have bad dreams.”
Titanic, 1912 (The Symbiont Time Travel Adventures Series, Book 5): Young Adult Time Travel Adventure Page 4
