by Joy Elbel
I replied, “Just looking for someone particular—that’s all.”
“Does he know her, Ruby? Has he seen Allison around anywhere?” Rachel fired her questions at me like bullets. “No. I guess it’s time to head to the campus.” The smile faded from Clay’s face and he lowered his eyes to the ground at his feet. My heart sank down to my toes when I realized why—he was lonely. “Talk to you later, Clay,” I added happily. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so bad if he knew he’d see me again. And it worked.
“Later, Ruby!” he said with a smile. As I watched him walk away, I found myself thinking about him and how he ended up stuck here. What tied him to this place? What made him unable to move on? And most importantly, what could I do to help him? Finding Crimson was priority number one, of course, but once that was accomplished, maybe I could try to help Clay. He seemed like a nice guy and I wanted him to find some peace. And besides, his situation was completely different from the others. He drowned and probably just needed me to tell someone goodbye for him. Helping Clay move on wouldn’t be dangerous in any way. As soon as my current adventure was dead and buried—pardon the pun—I would ask him what he wanted me to do for him.
Marshall College, a branch campus of a larger university based out of Philadelphia, was nestled in the part of town just beyond the business section. There were only about a dozen buildings total including two dorms, the library and the student union. The rest were classrooms and a small theater arts building. Rachel and I decided to start with the coffee shop since that’s where Drake said Allison hung out the most.
Whole Lotta Lattes was buzzing with activity when we stepped inside. The place was full of college students and I felt like I decreased in age by a year with each step I took. Even though I was seventeen and almost in college myself, these kids looked so much older and more mature. Nearly everyone had a laptop and a latte so Rachel and I decided to at least order a drink so we wouldn’t stand out quite so much.
The boy behind the counter looked us up and down as he made our drinks. “I haven’t seen you two in here before— are you freshmen?”
I was about to tell him the truth—that we were, in fact, still in high school—when Rachel spoke up. “Yeah,” she said nonchalantly while twirling her hair around her finger. “I’m Tori and this is my roommate, Lacey,” she said pointing to me.
What? I kind of understood her hesitance to admit that we weren’t even in college yet but why the fake names? Rachel nudged me with her elbow so I replied, “Lacey,” and pointed at myself like a complete loser.
“Well, Lacey, I’m Jake.” He wiped his hands on his apron before extending one for a handshake. I shook his hand awkwardly and then took my French vanilla cappuccino from the counter. “Lucky you—today is free cappuccino for beautiful girls day. Oh, and for their friends, too.” And he looked straight at Rachel.
Weird. It was like a parallel universe or something. Sure, it was only a coffee shop but it might as well have been a bar. I felt completely out of place, underage and like I just used a poorly crafted fake ID. Not to mention the fact that he was totally hitting on me and treating Rachel like a red headed stepchild. When he turned his back to grab us some extra napkins, I shot Rachel a look of sheer panic.
“Just go with it,” she whispered. I decided to improvise. “So, Jake,” I said deepening my voice to try to sound more mature, “We’ve never been in here before because we heard the place is haunted. Any truth to that rumor?”
Rachel flashed me a thumbs up under the edge of the counter where Jake couldn’t see. With that confidence booster, I relaxed a little.
Jake handed me the napkins and grinned. “This place isn’t haunted. But don’t worry—if it was, I’d protect you.” I willed myself not to blush but it did no good. By the temperature spike in my cheeks, I knew I was glaring as brightly as a stoplight. “Thanks, Jake. Are you sure it’s not haunted, though? This girl in my English lit class seemed really positive that it was.” Check me out—spinning improv like a pro!
“No, I’m sure it’s not. I close up shop alone three nights a week. If there was anything here, I’d know it.” He leaned over the counter toward me. “I close tonight, actually. If you come back around nine, you can see for yourself that I’m the only thing around here that goes bump in the night.”
And I was pretty sure the bump he had in mind was the one behind his zipper. “Sorry, Tori and I have plans tonight. Super-secret sorority stuff—you understand, right?”
When I mentioned the word “sorority”, his eyes lit up. He was probably picturing a roomful of girls in their underwear having pillow fights. The perv. Was that all guys thought about? All guys except for my guy, of course. I suddenly found myself wishing that Zach were a little more, well, normal in that respect. Strange how what set him apart and attracted me to him was now the one thing I wanted him to change.
“Maybe some other night then,” he called as we searched for an empty table. “I close again on Tuesday!” I gave him a flirty wave as we sat down. Rachel started laughing so hard that tears actually formed in the corners of her eyes.
“Damn, girl!” She pretended to wrap her hands around an invisible Oscar, “And the Academy Award goes to Ruby Matthews for her portrayal of Lacey, the sorority sister!”
I accepted the award gracefully as Rachel clapped elegantly. “I would like to thank my producers, directors, and especially my costar Rachel Mason. I couldn’t have done it without you!”
“That was too much fun, Ruby, but we didn’t get the answer I was hoping for.” She took a sip of her drink and peered around the room. “I know what Jake said but do you see anything here?”
“No—nothing.” We were running out of options and we both knew what that meant. If we couldn’t find anything at the campus library, that meant we would have to explore the Bantam Theater. Thinking about the Bantam gave me the willies so I switched topics by launching into a play by play account of last night’s date with Zach.
“I don’t know why he distrusts Lucas so much. What’s your opinion?” “My opinion?” she mused. “I think you trust Lucas too much. I think you’re having a hard time separating him from your memories of Lee. Zach is definitely jealous but he’s also truly concerned for your safety. And afraid that he’s going to lose you.”
Okay, not what I wanted to hear. What I wanted to hear was that Zach was overreacting, that it was just a milder form of what he went through over Ryan. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear but I knew she was right.
“But I love Zach.” I insisted. Rachel countered, “But you loved Lee, too, and for many years. Zach is just afraid those feelings are being resurrected by Lucas. Is he right?” She looked at me for an answer I didn’t have. Why didn’t I have that answer?
I swallowed the last of my cappuccino and tossed my cup into the garbage. “I love Zach and that’s all that matters.” I delivered the line with an air of finality that Rachel respected.
“Okay,” she said flinging her empty cup as well. “Well, I guess our next stop is the Bantam. The Bantam. Just the name alone made me want to run away screaming in the opposite direction. The only thing that kept me from doing just that was the hope that we might still be able to help Crimson. Time spent searching for her meant less time searching my own heart for the solution to the Zach/Lucas situation. I knew I couldn’t let it drag on forever but I seriously needed some time to figure out what exactly it was that I was feeling.
Rachel drove a little slower than usual across town and I was grateful for it. I wasn’t sure if we would find Allison in that creepy old theater but I was pretty sure I would find something. That building gave off an eerie vibe even from the outside—how awful would that aura be once we were within its walls? Speaking of which, exactly what was our plan for getting inside anyway? One breaking and entering offense was enough for me—this time we would have to come up with a better plan. We talked about it on the way there but when the theater was in sight, we were no closer to an actual strategy than when we started out.
Rachel, with her eagle eyes, spotted it first. “Look,” she pointed to the front door of the theater, “we’re not going to need a plan after all.” Hanging on the door was a neon pink flier.
Be a part of Charlotte’s Grove history
with the grand reopening of the Bantam Theater.
Coming soon: The Phantom Affair
A contemporary non-musical adaptation of
The Phantom of the Opera
Featuring off Broadway director
Jonas Mazzerati
Auditions to be held December 17th at 6:00 pm
Seeking actors ages 16-24
“That’s this Friday, too!” Rachel exclaimed. “Clear your calendar, Ruby, we have ourselves an audition!” Wait. Did she actually expect me to get up on that stage and try to get myself a role in this production? She had to be insane! Certifiably freakin’ insane.
“Whoa, I’m a ghost hunter not an actress. We can just come in to watch the auditions while I see if I can pick up on anything paranormal.”
“But what if you do find something? We can’t just come back and watch every rehearsal you know. We’ll have to be involved in the play in some way, shape, or form. If we got parts, we’d be guaranteed front row seats to the haunting.”
Just what I always longed for—front row seats to the scariest show on earth. “Fine—you can get a role and I’ll just come watch you. There’s no way on earth I’ll ever get on that stage.”
“You could volunteer to be a stagehand or something,” Rachel offered. Why was she so hard to say no to? I backed down and suggested a compromise. “If I find anything ghostly when we’re here, I will. If not, you’re on your own. Deal?”
“Deal!” she squealed back at me. “You know how much I’ve always wanted to be an actress! This will give me some experience before the murder mystery bed and breakfast gets under way.”
Suddenly, Rachel didn’t seem so frightened of the theater any more. Too bad I couldn’t say the same thing. As we got back in the car to head home, I thought I noticed movement in the tower again just like the last time. But the same as before, it was gone before I was even sure it was there at all.
10. Snow Business Like Show Business
Working, ghost hunting and fighting with Zach made for a long weekend so by the time I got home, I was ready to climb into bed. I made myself a cup of hot chocolate with tons of extra marshmallows and propped myself up with my pillows to read until I got sleepy. I knew enough not to read anything scary before bed so I picked out a romance novel and settled in. Romance novels never gave anyone nightmares before—why would they start now? About fifty pages in, I drifted off to sleep without even turning out the lights.
The dream started out harmless enough. I was in a church walking down the aisle on my father’s arm. White gown? Check? Rachel and Chloe dressed in the most godawful bridesmaid dresses? Check. Zach waiting for me at the altar? Double check! Cut the slow ass wedding march—I wanted to chuck my bouquet and run to the front to be with him.
One by one, my father and I passed each pew as the guests turned to watch our procession. Half of the faces were unfamiliar but there was one recognizable face in each row. Lucas seemed to be seated in every one of them staring back at me through that weird half mask thingy the Phantom always wore. How was that possible? How could he be in so many places at once?
Never mind. I was marrying the boy of my dreams so nothing else mattered. Despite the tempo of the music, I stepped it up a little bit. The sooner I got to Zach, the sooner this would be all over and Lucas’s presence would be meaningless. But with each step closer to Zach, the lights in the church began to dim. Despite the darkness, things started to become clearer.
We weren’t in a church after all. We were in the Bantam Theater. Zach wasn’t standing at the altar—he was waiting for me on stage. The man walking me down the aisle wasn’t my father, just a shadowy stranger without a face. I decided to make a run for it but his grip on my arm became iron tight. There was no way out. What once felt sacred was now a mere mockery.
The shadowy man pushed me roughly up the stairs to the stage and I fell into Zach’s arms. When I steadied myself enough to stand on my own, I pulled back from him to find that his white shirt was now stained with fresh blood. I looked down to find a gory trail of it dripping down the front of my dress as well. My head was spinning, my stomach churning. I had to grab Zach and get us both out of there.
A pair of large hands yanked me into position across from Zach and a booming voice cut through the silence. Those hands, that voice belonged to Drake Sterling.
“Do you, Zach, take this woman to be your wife?” Drake shouted enthusiastically. He was dressed as a priest only backwards—a white robe with a black collar.
“I do,” Zach replied sarcastically. “And do you, Ruby, take this man to be your husband?” Drake’s voice grew louder and more menacing as he spoke.
I tried to respond but an unintelligible noise came out instead of my intended words. And a warm stream of liquid poured over my lips. One more time, I tried to answer his question but with the same results. What was happening to me?
I reached inside my mouth, fearful of what I would find in there. Instead, I was horrified by what I didn’t find. My tongue was nothing but a bloody stump protruding from the bottom of my mouth, blood pouring from the fresh cut.
Oh my! Who did this to me? My hands started to shake violently and when Zach grabbed them I thought he was trying to calm me. Instead, he ripped the rose shaped promise ring off of my finger.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” he whispered to me threateningly and forced something onto my finger in its place.
The skin of my finger ripped from the nail all the way down to my knuckle. The ring now gracing my finger was a twisted metal replica of a rose with barbed wire thorns. Zach forced my hand into a fist, driving the metal razors deep into my palm.
“Forever,” he announced and the throng of guests seated in the theater chanted back.
“Forever.” “Forever.” “Forever.” The first thing I did when I woke up was check my finger. Whew. No blood, barbed wire, or shredded flesh—the promise ring Zach gave me was still in place, gleaming up at me innocuously. Just to be safe, I stuck my tongue out at my reflection in the mirror. Perfect working order. It was a just a dream—disturbing and disgusting—but still just a dream.
Zach was extra quiet on the ride to school. Warm and friendly, yet unusually subdued. I could see that he wasn’t still mad at me so I filled him in on my evening of ghost hunting with Rachel.
“The Bantam Theater, huh? Am I dating a soon to be actress now?” “Who? Me? Nah, that’s Rachel’s gig—not mine. No one on this earth could convince me to get up in front of a crowd like that—not even you. If we find Allison there, I’ll sign up to help as a stage hand or something if I have to.”
Zach nodded his head and kept driving. He pulled into the school lot and took his usual parking space. “Before you get out, I want to tell you again how sorry I am about Saturday night. Sorry for arguing, sorry for taking you on such a wretched date, sorry for accusing you of—”
“It’s okay, Zach,” I interrupted. I didn’t want to even hear him say the words again. “I forgive you—let’s just not talk about it anymore, okay?”
“Okay, just let me know what time you’re leaving with Lucas.” His voice caught in his throat as he uttered his name. “I will—don’t worry about it, about us. I love you, Zach.” I gave him a kiss but noticed a split second of hesitation on his part. No, it had to be my imagination. He kissed me with the usual enthusiasm so I had to be wrong.
“I love you, too, Ruby,” he replied the same as he always did. Just my imagination. The dream had to still be messing with my head, with my perception of reality. Definitely just my imagination.
Lucas flung his lunch tray onto the table and took the seat beside me instead of across from me like usual. I looked around the cafeteria to see if anyone was watching. No one. He wasn’t sitti
ng close to me but I was still aware that it could be misconstrued by the wrong people. And by wrong people, I mean anyone other than me.
“So how did your date go?” Were there jealous undertones to his question? It sure seemed like there were. Why did everything seem so off kilter today? Seriously, was one normal day too much to ask for?
I couldn’t tell Lucas that my date with Zach failed on an epic scale. Besides, it really wasn’t any of his business. I put on my brightest smile and lied like I’d never lied before.
“It was great—every date with Zach is.” Usually. I took a large bite of my pizza so I would have time to formulate another lie in case he asked for details.
He gave me an odd look but didn’t press the issue. “I want to leave around noon on Saturday. Are you still coming with me?”
I swallowed my mouthful and took a drink of juice to wash it down. “Yes. What time do you think we’ll be back?” “Why? Do you have plans that night with your boyfriend?” Lucas tossed his half eaten piece of pizza down onto his plate. “If you don’t really want to help me find my parents, just say so now. I’d hate to waste your time.”
God—he was sooo sensitive! And boys said girls were too emotional! What was he going to do next—stomp his foot and stick out his bottom lip? I needed to make Lucas and Zach each go to separate corners for time out. But I couldn’t do it here. I simply couldn’t let any of my current drama find its way into Misty’s ears.
“Of course I still want to help you. I was just wondering how late you thought we’d be out—I do still have to work on Sunday morning, you know.”
“Oh.” Now that his hissy fit was over, the pizza found its way back into his mouth. “I don’t know,” he said between bites, “Not too late I don’t think. Are you sure this is about work and not your boyfriend? He seems to have some serious jealousy issues.”
