Chapter 3
The alarm woke me to what, for all appearances, was a normal morning. I switched on my lamp and looked around the room, more than a little confused. I half expected the room to be in complete disarray, but nothing was out of order.
I stared into the corner where he appeared, trying to recall every detail. The more I tried to remember, the more questions I had. What was it that woke me last night? Was it the intensity of his gaze? Who and what was he to show up in my room like that? Was he really some restless spirit we called back from hell or was he just a figment of my imagination?
The memory of the eerie glow of his eyes staring out at me from that dark corner sent a shiver up my spine. It just couldn’t be real. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone. Things like that just didn’t happen.
In the light of the morning, the room seemed too bright, too vivid, like the walls and the furniture were waiting for something to happen. The whole house seemed to be pensive, ready for some unknown event. I listened, waiting to hear something, anything to prove to myself that I wasn’t losing my mind.
“Are you there?” I called out into the sleeping silence.
Nothing answered. The only sound was the scratching of the tree against my window in the early morning breeze.
“Enough of this,” I scolded myself for even considering such outlandish ideas. What was I thinking? Did I think the boogieman snuck up to my room?
I threw back the covers and got out of bed. I tried to forget all about it as I got ready for school. I tried not to think about it anymore, but I stayed clear of the far corner of my room.
After such a peculiar night, the day could only be better.
It was better since I wasn’t quite so clueless as the day before. I recognized most of the students that passed me in the hall and a few even waved or said hello. It seemed like a small triumph, but I took what I could get.
No matter how hard I tried, I was distracted. I was still thinking about the phantom visitor as I pulled books out of my locker. I was so engrossed in my own thoughts; I didn’t notice Ally bouncing up beside me.
“Hey, back for more punishment?” She asked with a wide smile.
“I guess,” I didn’t look up as I pulled books out, not even sure if they were the ones I needed.
Ally took a History book from the top of my stack and put it back in my locker. “What’s with you?”
“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head to clear it. “Why?”
“I don’t know. You just seem blah,” Ally replied sticking out her tongue.
I hesitated. Did I confess what I saw or not? After all, I only met this girl yesterday and she didn’t owe me any loyalty. I really didn’t want to serve my time in high school as the girl who sees things that aren’t there.
“I was just thinking about last night,” I tried to move on to another subject. “Where’s Billie?”
“Her first class is at the other end of the building,” Ally explained as she turned and walked down the hall with me. “Are you upset about last night or something?”
“No, of course not,” I assured her with a nervous laugh.
Ally didn’t seem convinced. She followed beside me with her bouncing stride, “Look, that stuff doesn’t always work and none of us really believe in it anyway, sometimes things happen and sometimes they don’t.”
“And what if something did happen?” I asked before I could stop myself.
The bell rang and saved me from any further explanation, but I saw the expression on her face. I gave her a quick wave and ran off to class. Great. It was only my second day and I’m already the crazy girl.
I walked into Science in a daze, stumbling to my desk where I hoped I wouldn’t be noticed. I didn’t speak in class and I didn’t make contact with anyone. Of course that meant Mr. Coomes was bound and determined to call on me again and again.
I did try to focus on what he was saying, but Science was never my favorite subject and I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to the ghostly figure in my room. I was certain I hadn’t imagined it, but how could it have been real?
As much as I was hating Science, I kept willing the clock to move slower. I was dreading English class and Ally’s questions about what I had meant at my locker. Why did I have to open my big mouth?
I went into Geometry and tried to pretend to pay attention, but I kept getting that sick feeling deep down in my stomach.
When the bell rang, I took my time walking down the hall. Everyone moved past me in the hall, smiling and joking with each other. They were all completely unaware I was about to become the running joke of the day.
Ashley Richardson was standing outside my English class, speaking with a few of her followers. She stared at me with curiosity as I approached. Had it already started? Had she already heard how crazy I was?
She watched me as I approached the door, smirking to her court.
“You’re new, aren’t you?” She asked as soon as I was close enough.
At my old school, it would have been exciting for a cheerleader to speak to me, but my experiences there taught me to be wary. Cheerleaders were another breed and should always be approached with caution.
“Yes,” I said, guarded. “I’m Becca McAllister.”
“I didn’t ask what your name was loser,” Ashley snickered, obviously pleased with herself for the set up. Her friends giggled with her. I watched them turn and go down the hall only slightly stinging from their rejection.
I was right, even here, cheerleaders are another breed. Could the day get any worse?
I walked in as the bell rang, taking my seat just as Mrs. Temple began class. Ally turned in her seat to throw me a questioning look, but the teacher called on her and she had to face the front again. I breathed a sigh of relief, but I knew that my reprieve was short-lived.
I was dreading lunch. I knew I had to say something to explain, but I wasn’t sure what it would be. Part of me wanted to just blurt out the entire story, but the more rational part of me knew that it would be social suicide.
Mrs. Temple began her introduction to the thematic elements of Hamlet. I tried to concentrate on the lesson, I really did, but my mind kept wandering between what to tell Ally and the mysterious apparition in my room. No matter what I did, I kept going back to that man standing in the shadows.
Every detail was becoming clearer as the fear ebbed away. His skin, if that’s what it was supposed to be, was smooth and poreless. There was an illusion of stubble on his chin, but it was very faint. His brown hair had glittered with bronze as if an unseen light was playing across the strands. And then there were those eyes…Those soulful blue eyes that never wavered until he faded away into the blackness.
It must have been obvious I was day dreaming because Mrs. Temple called on me every few minutes. I gave my answers, grateful I paid attention last year at my old school when we studied the play, and then went back to thinking about those intense blue eyes.
Who was he? Where did he come from?
I jumped when the lunch bell rang, giving Ally the quick excuse that I forgot my lunch in my locker. I didn’t wait for her to offer to walk with me. I was out the door and down the hall before she could get up from her desk.
I knew she was waiting for me to explain, but my first thought was finding somewhere to hide until lunch was over. The problem was, being new to the school, if there were any good hiding places; I didn’t know where they were yet. I decided I couldn’t hide forever, so I got my lunch out of my locker and went to face my new friends.
When I got to the cafeteria, Ally and Billie were already there waiting for me. I could only assume that by the way they were leaning towards each other so secretively as they whispered, that Ally was filling Billie in on what I had said that morning. I thought about turning around and walking back out the door, but Billie spotted me and waved. Ally turned and saw me and began frantically motioning me to come over and sit down.
Seeing no way to escape, I walked over and s
at down. “Hey guys, what’s up?”
They both looked at me like I just grew two heads. Billie let her hands drop to the table, “Don’t be cute. Ally said that you told her something happened last night after we left.”
“I didn’t say that exactly,” I mumbled.
Ally fidgeted in her chair, “No, but you kind of sort of did.”
There was no use in trying to deny it. My one moment of carelessness put me on the spot, but I still didn’t want to be the creepy crazy girl so I downplayed it all as much as possible. “Look, I don’t know what I saw.”
“What do you think you saw?” Ally asked wide-eyed.
I paused, biting my lip and trying to think of what to say and how much to say. If I said too much they would think I was insane or lying, either way they wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I couldn’t lose the only two friends I had managed to make.
“I thought I saw something,” I began. I was trying to gauge what I said based on their expressions. Seeing only interest, I went on. “It was just something in the corner of my room. One second it was there and the next it was gone.”
“What was it?” Ally asked in amazement.
I looked around to make sure no one else was listening. “I think it was a man.”
“Who was it?” Billie asked, one eyebrow going up in a flag of doubt.
I bit my lip again and changed my tactic. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if it was real. Like I said, it was there and then it wasn’t.”
I didn’t wait for either of them to respond. I gathered my things. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later, okay?”
It didn’t matter where I went. I just knew I had to get away from their questions before I said too much.
Another class was coming into the cafeteria as I was trying to squeeze out one of the doors. In my haste, I collided with Jonah Ericson. My books and papers scattered at his feet.
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” I stammered, kneeling down to collect my things.
He smiled with perfectly straight and white teeth, “I ran into you and you’re apologizing?”
I sensed myself blushing and felt like a stupid little girl for being thrilled that the school jock was speaking to me and kneeling in the floor with me. Could I be anymore pathetic? He was just so handsome with his perfect face and gorgeous hair.
“I should’ve watched where I was going.”
“Are you always this hard on yourself?” He asked, apparently oblivious to my agony. He just kept smiling. “You’re that new girl, aren’t you?”
We stood as he handed me a handful of my notes and papers.
“Yeah, I’m Becca McAllister.”
“Well Becca McAllister,” Jonah said with another brilliant smile. “I’ll see you in History class.”
He walked off to join a group of fellow jocks in the line, obviously too important to be troubled with bringing his lunch. I hated myself, but I couldn’t help but stare after him. He glanced back at me one more time with the beautiful smile and the after sun playing in his golden hair.
At my old school, I always despised girls that fell all over themselves for the school’s top jock, but just a few brief minutes with Jonah Ericson and one glimpse of that brilliant smile and I was hooked.
Before going to History class, I did something I had never done before. I went into the restroom to check my appearance. It was still just my same old face looking back at me, but now there was an excited flush to my cheeks. All because Jonah Ericson spoke to me.
Unfortunately, Ashley Richardson also decided to visit that bathroom mirror before class. She walked in and edged her way in beside me, applying her red lip gloss and eyeing me in the mirror.
“You are so pathetic,” She said with a giggle. “Getting yourself all worked up over Jonah.”
Ashley gave me an insincere smile, blew a kiss to her reflection and left me there.
I smoothed my hair, but had no lip gloss, so I scowled at my image and headed toward class.
As I walked down the hall toward class, I couldn’t help wishing my life was one of those feel good teenage movies where the perfect guy falls for the new girl no one knows, then there’s the magical kiss, some sort of happy song, and then the names of the real people would scroll up the screen.
I walked with more confidence, fully wrapped up in my fantasies. I held my breath as I walked through the door. Jonah Ericson wasn’t there yet. I let out a relieved sigh and went to my seat.
My heart was pounding in my ears. I tried to focus on calming down and slowing my racing pulse, so grateful he wasn’t there yet. I could feel the hot blood in my cheeks. I closed my eyes and tried to take measured, even breaths.
I heard movement in the desk in front of me. I slowly opened my eyes. There right in front of me was Jonah Ericson.
He was turned slightly, talking to the girl in the desk to his left. I didn’t remember her name from yesterday, but I immediately envied her for his attention. His picture perfect face was open and friendly with a slight smile on his perfect lips. His blond hair waved just enough, making him look more like a walking model for hair products than an ordinary high school student.
I tried to focus on Mr. Abramson’s lecture on the Louisiana Purchase, but my thoughts were everywhere. I couldn’t look to the front of the room where he was writing on the blackboard without getting distracted by the perfection of Jonah Ericson.
His dark grey tee-shirt clung to his tanned skin, outlining his biceps where the material ended. Whenever he would turn his head to check the wall clock, I would get a glimpse of his gorgeous profile. I was enthralled, studying every detail of him, even breathing through my nose so I could get faint whiffs of his cologne.
When my admiration was cut short by the bell, Jonah left without ever once noticing me.
I passed him twice more in the hall that day. The first time he walked by without so much as a glance over to me, but oh that second time. It was right after the last class and people were in a hurry to get out of there as soon as possible and on to whatever activities school had interrupted.
I was at my locker, trying to hurry before Ally and Billie could catch me and ask more questions. I had just shut the locker door and turned to leave when I saw Jonah. He was so perfect with the afternoon sun in his face, smiling with easy confidence that only popular people know. He was like a Greek Adonis among mortals.
As I was standing there, admiring the perfection of his existence, I thought about how the nape of his neck must smell like vanilla wafers. He stunned me by giving me a casual wave.
“See you tomorrow Becca,” He called out.
I could only stare after him. I knew I should say something, but couldn’t form the words. He shrugged and kept walking. He was well down the hall before I could make my mouth work.
“See you tomorrow,” I whispered.
Great. He must think I’m some sort of mental defect. He’s also probably used to girls stammering every time he came within two feet of them. I was so embarrassed. Why did I have to humiliate myself in front of the exact person I wanted to impress?
I should have been thinking about Geometry homework, my assignment on Hamlet, or anything academic, but all I could think about as I left the school was that Jonah Ericson spoke my name. Not only did he speak my name (twice), but he formed the syllables on those delicious lips.
The blush was still on my cheeks when I slammed my locker shut. By sheer luck, I evaded Ally and Billie. I blended into a group of fleeing students as I made it to the sidewalk. I didn’t calm down until I turned the corner and was out of sight of the school.
I relaxed a little then, taking the time to notice the beautiful flower gardens of the other houses on the block. People sat on front porches sipping iced tea or stood at the edge of their gardens clipping the fragrant blooms. It was another of those Norman Rockwell moments that would seem so out of place anywhere else, but so perfectly normal here in Corydon.
Too soon I stepped into the shadows of the giant oaks
in the yard. A chill overtook me and I knew I was home.
It was as if a hush fell over the world as I stepped onto the stone walkway. I could hear the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze and the far off call of a raven.
What a creepy sound, I thought as I looked up at the dark and deserted porches. Even in the daylight, the house seemed gloomy and waiting, looming over the other houses on the street.
The sky was bright and shinning above the house, intense blue and burning, but it couldn’t reach the shadows of this house. I walked under the canopy of the oaks and into the house.
Inside, despite the comfortable hum of the air conditioning, the entry still held the memory of the day’s heat. The scent of a century’s worth of sunlight baking the old wood was oddly comforting.
I went up the staircase and into my room. Setting my books on my desk, I turned to the far corner of my room. There was nothing there, just a faint trace of dust particles dancing in the afternoon sun, but still I shivered.
I squinted my eyes, straining to see something, anything, but there was nothing. Stepping into the center of my room, I starred up at the ceiling.
“Are you there?” I whispered.
Nothing.
I turned in a slow circle, waiting for something to happen. Only minutes passed before I began to feel ridiculous.
“Okay Becca,” I said to myself. “It was only a dream, time to move on.”
I laughed at the absurdity of it all and walked out of my room, closing the door behind me. I felt a little saner as I walked toward the staircase, telling myself over and over that it was just a dream.
With that settled, I could let my mind wander back to the really important detail of the day. Jonah Ericson spoke to me! I almost skipped down the stairs.
My footsteps echoed as I went from room to room looking for my dad. I didn’t see him anywhere so I went into the kitchen to get a soda. Taking a can from the plastic cooler on the counter, I opened it and took a few long gulps.
Standing at the sink, I looked out the window into the backyard. Off in the far left corner of the yard was my dad, carrying a notebook and walking through what appeared to be the overgrown remnants of a rose garden.
That part of the yard held only ragged patches of grass with the branches of rose bushes blocking paths here and there. Across the back, near the property line were tall trellises, leaning under the weight of the climbing roses. It was beautiful, but wild and unkempt.
It came to me in a jarring flash, the thick scent of roses in the air and heavy metal pruners in my hand. It was so foreign to me, but to that other me, it seemed so natural and right, like this was something I did often. Someone was in that garden with that other version of me, saying something that made me turn to him.
In that tilting moment, I brought my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun. I was trying to see the man that stood in the garden with me, just as the face was coming into focus it was distorted again, this time by a pair of radiant blue eyes.
Everything blurred then as if I was spinning in circles. I couldn’t breathe! I dropped my soda and clutched the porcelain sink with both hands.
What was that?
I looked down at the sink where my soda can lay on its side, the contents foaming down the drain. I gasped for air, my skin clammy, as my teeth began to chatter. What was happening? Was I losing my mind?
My pulse was racing, making my blood roar in my ears. All of a sudden my throat was tingling and tight. I wanted my mother. I wanted my old life.
I heard Dad stepping up to the screened porch, scraping his shoes on the edge of the concrete. He opened the wooden screen door and let it slam behind him with a bang. I dried my eyes with shaking fingers and washed the remnants of my soda down the drain.
“Home already?” he asked as he came through the kitchen door. “How was school?”
“It was fine,” That was all I could say without the shrill note of panic creeping into my voice.
He tossed his notebook on the table and clapped his hands together. “You ready for me to start dinner?”
He sounded so cheerful, too cheerful. My mother was always the one taking care of the domestic chores. It really saddened me to see him trying so hard.
“Sure,” I said even though it was way too early for me to be hungry yet. “What’s for dinner?”
“Pork chops and mashed potatoes.” He answered as he pushed me into a chair, “Just sit there, relax, and talk to me while I work.”
I felt self-conscious sitting there and doing nothing while he worked. I watched him move from the plastic coolers, to the sink, to the stove, and grappled to think of something to talk about.
“So, when are they delivering the new refrigerator?” I finally asked.
He coated the pork chops in flour before dropping them into the sizzling skillet, “Tomorrow I hope. That will finish up everything in here and I’ll be ready to move on to the outside.”
“Is that why you were out by the roses?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
He poured a little milk into the potatoes and worked at mashing them. “Yeah, that rose garden is over a hundred years old and it’s in sad shape. I’ve got a landscaper coming tomorrow to take a look at it and the other gardens out back and to do some fine tuning on the front.”
“One hundred years old,” I repeated, remembering that spinning feeling. “Really?”
“I’m boring you,” Dad stated, completely misinterpreting my tone. “So tell me what the school is like? Made anymore friends?”
“Well, Ally is in my English class and she introduced me to Billie. They were the two girls that were here last night. That’s all I’ve actually met.” With one amazing exception, but I wasn’t about to discuss Jonah Ericson with my dad.
He pulled plates out of the cabinet and silverware from the drawer, “It just takes a while. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
“I know I will,” I said with a smile to reassure him. “It’s just very different from what I’m used to.”
Dad filled our plates before bringing them to the table, “Yeah, small towns work a little differently.”
“How so?” I asked, taking the plate he offered, surprised by how delicious the food looked and smelled.
“Well,” Dad said as he got both of us a soda from the cooler. “They can be a very accepting place.”
I took the soda he offered and opened it. “Yeah, I noticed that, there are not really any cliques in this school. Everyone seems to know and like everyone else.”
Dad laughed, “Don’t let it fool you. Small towns can also be very critical of anyone that’s different.”
“Why is that?”
He shrugged, “I guess it’s just because since everyone knows everyone, there’s no way to keep a secret.”
I remembered my possible status as the new crazy girl if Ally and Billie decided to turn on me. I felt a little sick to my stomach and couldn’t finish my delicious dinner.
We were mostly silent for the rest of the meal. I cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher while Dad went into the other room to watch television. I went upstairs to do my homework.
I was deep into Hamlet when the phone rang. I jumped to get to it on my night table before it interrupted my dad’s news program.
“Hey,” Ally’s voice echoed over the line. “You took off so quick after school we didn’t get a chance to talk.”
“Sorry, I had something I had to do.”
“It’s okay.” She replied. “It’s just after what you said this morning and at lunch, I wanted to make sure that you were alright. Are you okay?”
Was she just being nice as a way to trick me or was she really concerned?
“I’m okay,” I said with a nervous laugh.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I guess it was just a dream,” I offered up as an excuse. “It just seemed so real that I guess I got confused.”
“Hey, it happens,” she said. “You know once I dreamed that me and Billie had
a huge fight and it was lunchtime before I figured out for sure that it was just a dream. So yeah, they can seem pretty real sometimes.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. The possibility of me being the new crazy girl was fading away.
“It did seem real,” I confessed. “But I’m okay now.”
“Glad to hear it,” Ally chirped. “I’ve got tons of homework, so I’ll just see you at school tomorrow.”
I got off the phone with her and went back to my homework, finishing up just as it was starting to get dark. Rather than go back downstairs, I decided to take my shower and call it an early night. After so much tension thanks to my hallucination the night before, I was exhausted and ready to go to sleep.
Maybe I’ll dream about Jonah Ericson, I thought as I settled down for the night. Laying there in the darkness, removed from the awe of his presence, I felt so very ordinary. It was so pathetic and predictable, me liking him, a stupid schoolgirl crush.
It took me a long while to fall asleep that night. I lay awake listening to the creaks and groans of the old house, willing sleep to come. That was the night the dreams began.
In my dream, I was in the rose garden and it was late afternoon. I wore a long full, skirt. I could feel the weight of it swirling around me as I moved. I lifted my skirts, noticing the white undersleeves covering my arms, and followed the mossy stone path back to the far corner of the garden where the roses grew rambling and wild.
The setting sun didn’t reach this part of the yard and the tall back hedges blocked out the afternoon light so that the shadows had already taken hold of the garden. It was cooler here and the crickets were already chirping.
I breathed in the early evening air, pungent with the scent of the roses and summer honeysuckle. Life was good. It was always good here.
From behind came strong male arms to hold me close. I didn’t scream. Whoever this was, I welcomed his touch.
I turned to face this man, but a random ray of setting sun was in my eyes blinding me. I caught a fleeting glimpse of his piercing blue eyes before his lips covered mine.
His kiss bruised my lips but left me craving more as he nibbled at my neck as his fingers pulled at the buttons of my dress. My naked skin was helpless against him as his kisses left my flesh burning. All too slowly this man moved back up to my lips. I was starving for the taste of him as he lowered me to the soft earth.
I woke up panting, filled with yearning, and longing for something I couldn’t name.
“Do you still believe that I am only a dream?” A voice asked in the darkness, soft and beseeching.
I sat up in bed, clutching the blankets to my chest and searching the darkness for the source of the voice.
He stood in the corner, starring out from the shadows with brilliant blue eyes. His voice was so raw and emotional, tempting me even as I feared it. His perfect face was so very human, appearing sad and wounded.
I couldn’t believe it. Just when I convinced myself that I imagined everything, he was back. His face perfect and so real, I could see the faint shadow of stubble on his cheeks. I could even see the lines of his sensual lips.
The light from my window played upon his ghostly form, falling upon his white shirt and open suit vest. The texture of the clothing so very different from whatever it was that made up his body.
I was shaking, trying to make myself focus completely on him. He was tall and lean, but with a muscular cut to his arms where his shirt was rolled to his elbows. His hair was a light brown, almost bronze, and mussed as if he had just ran his hands through it.
The fear was overwhelming, squeezing me tight. “Who are you?”
His blue eyes were unwavering, his voice seductive. “Do you not recognize me, my love?”
I felt a scream rise in my throat and hang there, making it difficult to breathe. His lips barely moved when he spoke, but yet his voice was clear and strong.
“Why are you here?” I demanded, panic starting to rise to the surface.
The apparition began to tremble and break apart. His voice came in a sweet caress, “I am here because of you.”
And he was gone.