by JH Terry
X: Researching and Confrontation at the Library
Tom was sitting at a computer in the Susan Swansbury Public Library. He had been accessing the archives on the Municipality of Sudbury’s web page for over an hour already. As Tom was searching, Peter was playing spider solitaire on the adjacent computer. Peter made various noises each time he made a move, either good or bad. Finally, the person next to Peter, a twenty-year old man with black hair, black clothing, and several piercings on his face, had enough.
“What the hell are you doing?” asked the particularly annoyed man. This outburst startled Peter, causing him to hit the esc button of his computer by accident, bringing his game from off of the screen but not closed.
“Look at what you made me do,” said Peter. “I was actually winning.”
“I do not care if you were making a million dollars,” said the man. “I am trying to write a thirty-page research paper that is due tomorrow. I am only on page two, so if you don’t mind I would like some quiet as I assess my information.”
“Sorry,” said Peter genuinely scared as he realized the man’s temper.
“Sorry,” said the man, “is that all you have to say? How about I make you really sorry? Then you would understand its full meaning.”
“That’s all right,” said Tom as he stood up from his computer, “there is no need for any harassment of any kind. We are going right now.”
As Tom and Peter left from their seats, another man next to the one who had yelled at Peter, said, “you better not be playing with his gangster self before he shows you the real, fully evolved meaning of pain.”
As they were walking to a desk, Tom said to Peter, “What were you doing?”
“Nothing, Tom, just playing some solitaire.”
“Perhaps next time you should keep your game solitary if you do not want to get into any more trouble.”
Tom and Peter sat at a relatively large wooden table near the non-fiction section, where there was a sign of “Dewey Decimal.” Next to the sign there was drawn a red book with legs, eyes, and a huge smile with sparkling white teeth.
“Peter,” said Tom, “I was researching some information and I came across some really strange stuff.”
“Like what?” asked Peter.
“In assembly they said Reilly had no children, but six months after Reilly left for the war effort, a week after he died, his wife had a premature birth, resulting in a daughter, named Adele Marian Pete, as shown by the birth certificate issued by the rector of the Sudbury Anglican Church.”
“Perhaps the school officials didn’t want to delve into these past problems. Rather than make any speculations, they decided to keep it simple since it fit in with the myth of Sudbury so well.”
“Perhaps, or maybe it was because the daughter was kidnapped on the very day of her birth. On this day a great fire consumed the Pete house, resulting in the death of Mrs. Pete.”
“How did they know that the daughter was kidnapped and did not die in the fire?”
“Neither the daughter’s nor Mrs. Pete’s personal maid’s bones were found in the house when inspected. The police believed the kidnapping of the daughter to be the work of Mrs. Pete’s personal maid, Mary, who must have left along with the child. Neither the daughter nor the maid have ever been found and are thought to have died perhaps in the northeast of Sudbury. That would explain why their bodies and whereabouts were never found.”
“Of course, they may have drowned in the Hudson River.”
“Even stranger, Mrs. Pete was always a recluse. She did so much for the school and her husband, as shown by her sketches for the school, selection for the items for the school’s inventory, and even location since her husband was busy with his textile business. However, she only had her demands acted out through her personal maid. I don’t understand, why did she stay in the house all day when she could have readily worked with the project in the open with less hassle?”
“They say that stuff is all psychological. Strange, though.”
“Perhaps,” said Tom, “but I also looked into the symbol for our school, the silver dragon. It says that it became the crest of the house of Pete during the Middle Ages. It is said to have been the most rare of all of the dragons due to its color. It, like other dragons, was able to become invisible by being camouflaged with its surroundings when it sensed danger was near. What is very strange about this is that they say dragons usually came in the colors of red, gold, bronze, copper, green, and blue. If dragons of any of these colors had children they definitely would not have been silver in color. Besides, dragons usually mated only with those who had the same color as them, say a blue dragon with another blue dragon.
“The one account of its existence is stated in the notes of a medieval friar who was wandering in the woods around Sudbury in the late night after hearing strange noises in the woods. The account, briefly summarized, says that he saw a witch-like creature with a long black cloak on and wild pink hair, believed to be the fabled pink-haired witch of Sudbury. She was talking to the dragon in a strange language, which the dragon could understand. The dragon was fifteen feet tall with green eyes and two horns upon its head near its ears and one horn on its nose.”
“I heard about her,” said Peter. “They say there were sightings of her until the 1860s and that she lived in one of the boggy areas of Sudbury. Many people still believe that she is still there, unwilling to get out of there because she does not want to bother with the ignorance of people.”
“Yes, I think I heard that one as well. Anyway, about the friar, when he saw this he was scared out of his wits and ran to others in the convent to show them the spectacle. However, when they returned to the site they found no one there. The only object they found was an azure blue shield with the image of the dragon that the friar talked about upon the ground. The friars, believing it to be a lost possession of their Lord Erronapus Pete, sent it to him. So intrigued was he by the possession that he incorporated it into his heraldry, making it the crest of the Pete’s. I do not know how much truth there is in this story, but it seems to me to be just that, a story.”
“I don’t know Tom, there are some strange things in the world. Did you know that I believe in witches?”
Astonished, Tom said, “Really?”
“Truly,” said Peter. “I have proof, to a degree.”
“What proof is that?”
“Kate.”
Tom and Peter laughed at the validity of the claim. “Well, I am skeptical myself to everything, to a point,” said Tom. “I usually leave no stone or theory unturned or brushed aside, but I do feel that believing in silver dragons is unable to be accepted by my mind at this moment of time without evidence.”
“I guess we’ll never truly know until it has been proven.”
Out of nowhere, Kate appeared at their table. “Do not worry about yourselves, though,” said Kate, “for it has been proven that you two have the IQ of nails!”
“And it was going so well!” exclaimed Peter.
“What are you doing?” inquired Kate.
“Something that needs more than just an understanding of IQ,” said Tom.
“You’re researching about Reilly A. Pete,” said Kate with a grin.
“How did you know that?” asked Peter amazed and frightened.
“It is a woman’s skill,” said Kate as she fluffed her hair.
“A homing device, please, your woman’s skill was to eavesdrop as I was talking to Peter,” said Tom.
Slightly embarrassed, Kate said, “It doesn’t matter. Did you know that his old house is underneath your own?”
“I heard it was torn down,” said Tom.
“The upper floors were, but the cellar remains intact. The upper floors were demolished in the 1950s.”
“Thanks, Kate,” said Tom gratefully. Tom seemed concerned over what Kate had just said because if it was true, Mrs. Fairdy had lied about seeing his house torn down since the occurrence was over fifty years ago, an
d Mrs. Fairdy was definitely no older than forty.
“Did you, the all powerful, perfect, and smart Thomas Reed just say ‘thanks’ to me? Oh, Tom, don’t mention it. It was…”
“All right, all right already,” exclaimed Peter, “could you please shut up? You are ruining my already bad day!!!!!” Suddenly, everyone in the library looked at Peter. Embarrassed, Peter whispered, “Sorry!”
Then the man at the computer stood up, “Are you saying sorry again you little creep? What did I tell you last time? I may only be on page 3, but I have enough time to wring out your….”
“I think it’s time to go,” said Tom.
“Agreed,” said Peter.
Both boys began to run out of the library as Kate said to them, “You are a bunch of losers. You cannot even stand up to this wimp.” Then, a shadow surrounded Kate, looking up it was the man, who stood 2 yards high! Gulping, Kate walked away slowly, and then ran out of the library.
The man, seeing all of the people in the library staring at him, said, “What? You would do the same thing too if your thirty page term paper were due tomorrow.” The man then sat back down at his computer, continuing with his research paper.