I woke up drenched in sweat in my beautiful and elegant bedroom at Thornfield. My nightgown clung to my body. Oddly, the evil laughter still echoed around me. I looked around. It was after midnight. The room was dark except for the moonlight peeking in through the window curtains. Helen was still sound asleep next to me, which was odd considering the wicked laughter was so loud. I got up and opened the window, heavy, Southern June air filled the room. I listened for a moment and confirmed that the cackling was, in fact, coming from somewhere inside the house. Panicked, I immediately thought of Adele and opened my bedroom door.
Miss Adele was standing in the hall. She seemed to be in some kind of trance, but she wasn’t the one laughing. I flicked on the hall light and reached for her hand.
“What is it?” I asked her. “What’s wrong Miss Adele?”
“It’s a dream,” she whispered in a trance-like voice. “It’s always the same dream.”
I gently guided Adele back to her room and helped her into her bed. I was immensely grateful for the valium Mrs. Fairfax had given me. I ran back to my room and grabbed the bottle and a glass of water from the sink. I gave Adele the valium and tucked her into her bed.
Adele’s trance-like state seemed to fade and sanity flowed back into her eyes. “It is a dream?” she asked. “Isn’t it?”
“Of course.” I pulled the covers up over her. I wondered if the night caretakers in the past had slept so soundly they never knew if Miss Adele woke up at night or if they’d lied to cover up what was going on. I had no real idea, but it made me mad to think that Miss Adele might have been wandering around the house alone in a trance for years and no one had bothered to take care of her.
As Adele drifted off to sleep, I noticed the laughter had faded away. I looked out into the hall. All the lights were off and there was only darkness. Not a sound to be heard. I went back into Miss Adele’s room. It was smaller than mine but just as nice. The soft nightlight glowed from a plug by the floor bathing the room in a gentle, yellow light. A pretty floral wallpaper adorned the walls and a chintz-covered chaise lounge and two upholstered chairs sat in front of a cozy fireplace. A rocking chair covered with a heavy quilt faced the window overlooking the garden and pool. Several books sat on a small table beside the rocker. The only items that indicated Miss Adele was in poor health were the large hospital bed and the medicine bottles spread out on the antique dresser. I made sure the covers were tucked under her chin and closed the door behind me. I walked back to my own room. The laughter was gone, but I felt distinctly unsettled.
As I crawled into bed, I resolved never to tell Helen about what had happened. She would flip out if she knew that the house was haunted by weird laughs and wandering old ladies. Helen was entirely too sensitive. It took me a while to fall asleep, but when I did, I dreamt of being locked in that old room again, with nothing but wicked laughter and the devil to keep me company.
Chapter 6
The process of delving into the black abyss is to me the keenest form of fascination.
~ H.P. Lovecraft
AFTER THAT FIRST STRANGE NIGHT at Thornfield, my life thankfully fell into a comfortable routine. Helen left the next day to move into her boyfriend’s place, and I got to know my way around Thornfield and the nearby campus before school started. I didn’t see Helen much after that. She tended to disappear from time to time and I didn’t question it. I loved her and was grateful for the time she gave me. Without my friend, I was free to lose myself in the beauty of my new home.
I spent my mornings exploring Thornfield’s enormous library and enjoyed wandering around the gardens and strolling through the hedge maze in the late summer sun. I felt like the heroine from a classic novel. In truth, my first few weeks at Thornfield were the most relaxing I had ever had in my life. I didn’t have chores to do other than make sure Adele was okay and slept through the nights. No more mishaps since that first night. I didn’t have any school work to do, yet. I had several weeks until school started. I couldn’t remember the last time I hadn’t juggled a couple of part-time jobs and my studies and my housework. Some afternoons, I would be bold and slip on the bikini Helen had convinced me to buy. Making certain that the creepy James wasn’t around, I would stretch out in the sun by the pool and pretend I was a girl like Helen. I pretended I was beautiful and that the boys were mesmerized by me. I imagined I was an heiress lounging at a resort with nothing better to do than watch the waves crash on the shore. I wasn’t afraid of people judging me for my tattoo because there was no one to see it. I could bare everything and I had nothing to fear. I even got a tan. My skin darkened and made it harder for me to see my tattoo. I was happy about that. I had no reason to leave Thornfield. It was perfect.
I kept to myself during those days. I ate my meals with Miss Adele and the other staff. I smiled and laughed at their jokes, but I tried not to linger in conversation. Thornfield was so huge, nobody knew where I was or what I was doing. The staff was small and kept to themselves. Once a week, a big cleaning crew came in and spent the entire day removing dust and keeping the house immaculate, and a landscaping crew swept over the massive grounds making sure there wasn’t a twig out of place. I made sure I was out on those days, either exploring Huntington campus or the town. It was easy for me just to do my thing and go the entire day without seeing the rest of the tiny staff. But one afternoon, Miss Adele found me in the library. I had been at Thornfield a little over three weeks and she came in with her cane and sat down beside me in the light of a wide stained-glass window. The sun passing through the glass created a tapestry of dancing color on the hardwood floor.
“Be a dear and get me a copy of Wuthering Heights?” She was out of breath, no doubt from walking through the enormous house. It had taken me a while to become familiar with the entire collection in the library, but I found my way around after the first week. I climbed up the winding staircase and used a narrow ladder to find a lovely elegant leather-bound edition of Wuthering Heights. I handed the book to her and she clutched it in her thin, wrinkled hands.
“Have you read it?” she asked me.
“Many times,” I responded.
“I read it many times in my youth,” Miss Adele said quietly. “But, at my age, the memory fades. I realized I couldn’t even remember the heroine’s name anymore. Can you imagine that?”
“Her name is Cathy.”
“Of course, of course. What was your name again, dear?”
“I’m Jane.”
“You are a pleasant girl, but don’t you have friends to be with? It seems like young people always have friends. The other girls always had friends they spent their days with.”
“I have a friend, Helen, remember from my first night here? She moved in with her boyfriend and started a part-time job. I start school in a little over a month. I thought I would just relax and read until school starts. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, dear.” Miss Adele patted my arm. “I like you. I like you much more than the other girls. You don’t play loud music or wear short skirts. You like books. I like you.”
I smiled. “I like you, too.”
Miss Adele smiled. She closed her eyes for a minute and I thought she had drifted off to sleep, but then she opened them again. “In my youth, I spent all my days in this room. Of course, that was before computers and color televisions with a thousand channels, and all these other electronic doohickies you young people spend your time with now. In my day, a room like this was all a girl needed.”
“I guess I should have lived in your day because this is all I need, too.”
Miss Adele’s nurse came bursting through the door with a panicked look on her face. She heaved a huge sigh of relief when she saw Adele sitting beside me. It wasn’t Beverly or one of the other nurses I had met before. No wonder Miss Adele was so confused all the time. I would be, too. She seemed to have a different nurse every day.
“Don’t you run off on m
e like that,” the nurse chastised. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Miss Adele. You could have got hurt.”
“Nonsense,” Miss Adele responded. “I’m a grown woman and this is my house. If I want to come sit in my own library, then I will do so.”
“Now Miss Adele, you know you need me to come with you. Come on now. It’s time for your nap.”
The nurse helped the elderly woman to her feet and dragged her out of the library, leaving me alone once again. A breeze passed by me. I was surprised by the sudden chill. I looked around, but the windows were closed. Another whoosh of wind passed me and, with it, the eerie sound of distant laughter.
Chapter 7
Ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and freighted with the memories and the dreams of Time.
~ H. P. Lovecraft
I STARTED SCHOOL IN EARLY September. The days passed much more quickly once I had classes to contend with. I took a full course load and buried myself in my studies. I could have lost myself in school and never come up for air if it weren’t for the necessity of extracurricular activities to round out my inevitable and eventual application to med school. With this in mind, I joined the Biology Club. The first meeting was torture as the group admins went through all the rules and what was expected of everyone. The second meeting was a party. That was worse than torture.
I entered the party quietly and tried to blend in with the wallpaper. The Biology Club meeting room had been transformed into a summer garden and every corner was full of plants, branches, and vines that the committee had gathered from the forested grounds behind the college. I found a leafy corner to sit in. I wished I’d brought a book. I looked around at everyone chatting and mingling. I saw one couple kissing in a corner. I wondered what it felt like to be kissed. I’d never been kissed except once by a boy in my high school. The boy had been kind and I had been terrible. I tutored him in chemistry. I was so young. I started high school when I was twelve and it rarely registered with anyone how young I was. I was a sophomore and barely fourteen when the boy had swept me into his arms and kissed me. He was eighteen and a senior. I had gasped and run off. I stopped tutoring him after that. I suppose I’d hurt his feelings, but I didn’t know how to react. He told me I was beautiful. I thought he was a liar.
About an hour after I’d arrived at the party, a slender boy with brown hair and glasses came and sat down beside me.
“Hey,” he said awkwardly.
“Hey,” I answered with equal awkwardness.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” he said.
“I’m a freshman.”
“Oh. I’m guessing you’re a biology major?”
“Premed.”
“Are you staying on campus?”
“I’m staying at Thornfield Hall,” I answered without thinking. It occurred to me that I shouldn’t tell strangers where I lived. Although, I wasn’t sure why.
“Really?” he asked with sudden enthusiasm. “The haunted house?”
“It’s not haunted. And besides, I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“Didn’t that guy murder his girlfriend up there? What’s his name? Edward Rochester. Didn’t he cut her up and set her on fire?”
Inwardly, I was shocked that such a terrible rumor had been circulating. Who would say such awful things about the Rochester family and why? The only Rochester I had met was Miss Adele and she was just a sweet old lady.
“That’s absolutely absurd,” I said with bravado.
“They say that all the Rochester men end up murdering their wives, but Edward, the youngest Rochester started early and killed his girlfriend. That’s why he doesn’t go to Huntington. They sent him away to Yale.”
I’m sure my face registered my shock and disapproval because the boy with the glasses suddenly went mute and became even more awkward. I didn’t care about ghost stories or urban legends, and I wasn’t good at pretending I did.
“Sorry,” I said stiffly. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“Where are you from?” he asked, trying to shift the conversation.
“Massachusetts,” I answered. I knew where he was going with his line of questioning before the next question came. I wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it.
“Yeah, but where are your parents from?” he pushed.
“Massachusetts.”
“Where are your people from?” he continued.
Why did everyone need to put me in an ethnic box? Why couldn’t I just be me, Jane Marsh, and leave it at that? “Michigan,” I lied.
He nodded and shifted uncomfortably. I would have given anything to escape. It occurred to me that Thornfield was only a short walking distance away. I only needed the Biology Club to round out my application. No one would ever know if I left every event early.
“I want to go into ornithology,” he said.
I had no idea how I should respond to that, so I just nodded and smiled. The uncomfortable conversation continued for a few minutes and then the boy drifted back into the sea of people. I took his departure as my cue to leave. I ran out into the night and left the party behind me. I felt like I was escaping prison. The fresh air was made even sweeter in comparison to the stifling air inside the crowded party.
It was a beautiful night and the neo-gothic buildings made me feel like I was walking through a European city. The stars were bright and the moon glowed as I made my way back to Thornfield. As I walked past the biology building I saw the old cemetery tucked away behind it. I’d seen it every day on my way to and from class, but never had the time to stop. It wasn’t much and it sat between the biology department and a wooded area that shrouded Thornfield Hall. It was an easy path to take on my way home. I walked through the cemetery. I always liked graveyards. They were quiet. The stones told stories. This was the old Rochester family cemetery. Every name on every stone ended in Rochester. A stone angel, worn thin by time, stood watch over the tiny necropolis. I wondered why no one tended the cemetery. Why it had been abandoned. I understood that feeling. I had lived with it my entire life.
I glanced at my watch. Mrs. Fairfax had told me I could have Friday evenings to myself as long as I made it home by midnight. But after my first experience at the Biology Club party, I probably wouldn’t take her up on that offer again. I turned and continued on my way, leaving the cemetery to the moon and the stars.
The gate to Thornfield was always locked after the staff left. I took out my keys and unlocked it, letting myself back onto the property. The walk down the driveway was the longest part of my walk. There were no lamps to guide my way, and the dense cover of the trees that lined the drive made it hard to see.
I was wearing my best dress. It was white and long with long sleeves. It covered my tattoo well and I think that’s why I liked it. It billowed around me in the darkness exposing my skin to the cool, night air. I quickened my pace in an attempt to make it home faster. The wind rustled through the trees. In the distance, another noise became apparent. It was a pounding noise like a horse’s hooves. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I walked faster and then I was running. The thundering sound grew louder and louder. I sprinted to the side of the path and glanced over my shoulder. All I could see were two crazed black eyes of an animal. And then someone yelled. I screamed and tripped over the root of a tree. I shut my eyes and lay in the dirt trying to catch my breath.
Chapter 8
I have seen the dark universe yawning. Where the black planets roll without aim, where they roll in their horror unheeded, without knowledge, or luster, or name.
~ H.P. Lovecraft
WHEN I OPENED MY EYES, I saw a black horse standing above a man lying in the dirt to my left. I stood up and dusted myself off. I felt stupid. Someone riding a horse had just scared the snot out of me. Granted, whoever it was could be a murderer, but what kind of murderer rode a horse? I walked over to the man. His leg looked injured and he was st
ruggling to stand up. He groaned in pain and fell back down. I didn’t recognize him as a staff member at Thornfield.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said as I stood over him.
In the dark, his features were hard to see. He seemed young. He had dark hair and he was tall.
“You’re crazy!” he bellowed. “It’s you who shouldn’t be here!”
“I work here. What’re you doing here?”
He seemed to calm down after that. He dusted himself off and looked at me.
“I thought you were a ghost. You spooked my horse. But you don’t look like a ghost up close. At least not what a ghost is supposed to look like.” There was a twinkle in his eyes that suggested he had gone from angry to joking. He was a strange young man. He rode alone at night and could go from furious to ridiculous in three seconds.
I laughed despite myself. “I don’t think I am a ghost. I live here.”
I could feel him studying me in the dark. “Are you the new night companion for Adele?”
“Who wants to know?” I asked him. “For all I know you’re a thief or a murderer. In fact, I should probably call the police or—”
“I’m Edward,” he interrupted. “Edward Rochester.”
“Oh!” I felt even more stupid than I had felt running from noises in the dark. I had never behaved so foolishly. I had just insulted my boss. I rushed to his side and tried to help him. “I had no idea,” I said as I helped him to his feet.
Edward put his arm around my shoulders and leaned on me as I helped him up. He was tall and lanky with broad shoulders. He was built like a swimmer and must have been over 6’4”. I felt like a dwarf next to him, even though I was 5’9”.
“Can you help me with my horse?” He looked at me and his eyes reflected the moonlight. “Can you help me get her to the stable?”
I nodded and helped him walk over to his horse. He patted her flank and whispered softly to her. Anyone who was nice to animals must be a good person. I knew that as sure as I knew there was a tattoo of a door on my back.
Jane of Air Page 4