A Random Chapter of "A Story"

I reached down into my backpack and felt around for my blue pen. I opened the note and signed it with Mothers name then shoved the whole bunch back into my backpack. I didn’t think about it again one fell swoop had taken that ominous task off my mind and the buckled on my backpack rested against the bare skin on my legs.

“I had a bagel.” The tall one said, she was defending her breakfast habits. And somehow I had been seduced to listen this morning. 

            “Before Six Candice?” The freckled red head raised his eyebrow.

            “Yes, 5:30 is the perfect time to eat.” I looked away and suddenly noticed the grass was long and ripe for plucking. Before I could grab the first strand however a brunet with long braids came and sat beside me.

            “They think she’s anorexic.” She whispered to me, rather close to the back of my head.

            “They’ve gotten into everybody else’s business why not their friends?” The girl drew back.

            “Well if you don’t like us…”

            “Please don’t give me your insecure banter.”I had been rude. “Because I like you guys, I had tried to make a joke before. Not very good at jokes.”

            “Ace, you’re a strange kid.” She said leaning in close to me again. “but you are right, we talk a lot but the stuff we say couldn’t all be rumors that’s like an improbability.” She snickered at her use of the vocabulary word.

            I breathed. “Like?”

            “People say like…” She looked at me for comfort but when she didn’t get any. “Oh like what things, well that guy does totally, you know THAT guy? Anyway he does show up to school high, I mean if you are going to show up to school might as well be feelin’ good…” Carlie was this girls name I think, she had a tendency to talk and I had a tendency not to listen. She knew it too which is what saved me from any guilt. I had time to notice the before school crowd was thinning , people were going to their classes but the dull early morning sky could not persuade me to go to class early, no, not even Carlie’s talking could do that. “Then there’s that old building, and while I think culture is important and everything they need to get the exssersist in there or something the ghost is totally freakin’ everybody out.”

            “What?” I said almost viscously.

            “The ghost, that one is defiantly not a rumor.”

            “What ghost?” I said again with more force. The whole group had gone quiet. Some looked away while others were a tad more brazen but now they were all listening.

            The redhead was the first to speak. “Dude, everyone knows there’s a ghost, look.” He pointed across the field and over the sea of students to a high window in the theatre that was glowing green.

            The warning bell sounded and the group gave me a wide birth as we headed for class. It had been so long since I thought of the ghost in that theatre… or had it been. At that moment I was recalling times when I thought my mind had been doing nothing where I saw a stage light up or felt a tug at my arm. Had she been haunting me? I shook it off. Three weeks had gone by and I had successfully avoided this social pariah.

            My curiosity peaked however, which very infrequently happened. Had I not seen her simply because she was not there? A live ghost, or a dead ghost rather. I determined that real ghost or not the girl should be told she is being talked about. My reasoning felt sound and the prospect of seeing something else besides my so called friends stare at me in wonder during lunch sounded like a fantastic idea. I resolved that I was taking a trip to the pillared theatre in exactly 4 hours.

            Three hours and fifty six minutes later my heart was pounding. Spanish class had not been easy because all I could think of was seeing that ghost again, or not! What if she thought I was too wicked? The girl had chosen me to speak with, had it been some kind of sign? Was I marked for death? Did I get defensive when the ghost was mentioned because somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was doomed to die today? Surprisingly these thoughts did not scare me but made me so much more willing to go. I had never been the sort of masculine person that leaps into danger for the joy of it, but I felt this was a game; a game that only I could play.

I found myself in front of the towering pillars and I bit my lower lip as I looked up. I circled the building once to look for any tell tale signs of current haunting. When I was convinced nothing immediately dangerous seemed to be going on I ran to the door where the girl and I had first gone in. It was just far enough away from the center of campus that it felt off limits and was deep set into the building.  Even while I was looking at it I thought I might lose it. I marched up to it, straight backed and falsely confident. I discarded my backpack just outside and then grabbed onto the handle like I was shaking the hand of God, or the angel of death, whichever came out of this little game. But the handle didn’t turn. I tried again… no turning. I felt like stomping my foot like a little child. I hadn’t even gotten to play. But I held on. Using just the one hand to turn, turn, turn! I stopped and looked around. I felt so silly, infantile. What had I come to? I look back at that moment and know that I would have given up on the idea entirely and never thought of it again if I had had the chance. Even now I can feel the adrenalin drain from me as I gathered my thoughts and myself. The back pack would have been stolen, my oak tree friends would have thought me crazy for at least a year and the idea of telling people I was British would have blossomed into action and caused people to believe I was some sort of romantic figure. All of this would have happened if the door had opened, if I had gone inside to find my ghost. I know these things for a fact because just as the last bit of whimsy was about to go the way of the world the door opened while a voiced came booming through it. “You’re back!!!” And I was grabbed by the arm and pulled inside. So much for maturing.