The Haunting of Eagle Creek Middle School (Samantha Wolf Mysteries Book 5)

by Tara Ellis

  Touching the back pocket of her jeans briefly, Sam reassures herself that her cell phone is still there. On it are the pictures she took of the wreckage. She’s convinced that it will bring Mrs. Potts the answer she’s been waiting to get for six years.

  Even though the boys aren’t so sure, Sam believes that the odd material the planks are made of is the same experimental wood Mrs. Potts told them about. The one-of-a-kind boat that Mr. Benjamin Potts was taking on its maiden voyage that tragic day.

  “Sam!” Lisa says loudly, pulling the young girl from her daydream. “I asked if you need anything before I leave,” she repeats, laughing lightly at how high Sam jumped.

  When Sam shakes her head, Lisa then hands her a small key. “This is to the supply closet. The one I pointed out to you, at the bottom of the stairs. Make sure that everything is picked up before you leave. The administration was adamant about that. They have basketball games in here again next Saturday, which is why we can’t get back in to start setting the haunted house up until Sunday. Halloween is the following weekend. Do you really think it’s going to be ready?”

  “So long as we get more help and work on it during the week,” Ally chimes in. “It’s a good thing we’re all doing well in our classes, and don’t have too much homework.”

  “Yeah, we can do it!” Sam adds with more confidence than she feels, reminded of a test she still needs to study for. “It’s going to be great!”

  The boys arrive as Miss Covington is leaving, and they all spend the next three hours working hard. By six, the floor of the gym is covered in pieces of cardboard, laid out to mimic the drawing Sam made. They’ve carefully numbered them, so it can be quickly assembled on Halloween.

  The panels all have creased edges, and are meant to stand up on their own. Lisa discovered them at a local business supply store. They’re designed for large sales displays. Once up, they’ll secure it all together with duct tape and then drape black plastic over the whole thing, to create the dark maze.

  “This next week, we have to work on costumes and decorations.” Sam makes the statement to no one in particular, as she stands staring at the work-in-progress.

  “You’re going to have to hit up your other club members for that,” John replies. He starts stacking the cardboard in order by number. “Hunter and I have football practice every night after school.”

  Cassy lets out a big breath, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. “How did we end up being responsible for all of this?” she asks, kicking at a plastic rat with beady red eyes.

  “Because it’s going to be a huge success, and we’ll make enough money to save the afterschool program,” Ally assures her friend, gasping Cassy’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

  “Yeah, I’d love to stand around and sing a campfire song or something,” Hunter jests, “but it’s getting late. Mom’s already texted me twice, and my stomach tells me that we’re very late for dinner.”

  Already scooping things back into the bags, Sam throws a full one at her brother. “Then make yourself useful. All this stuff needs to go downstairs.”

  Within ten minutes, the five kids are loaded down with supplies, and gathered around the nondescript door at the back of the gym. There is no sign on it, only the letters, ‘BR’.

  “Boiler Room?” Ally guesses.

  Sam’s stomach does a little roll, and her heartbeat quickens. The early darkness of a fall night has already gathered around the school, and it suddenly seems more oppressive.

  “The supply closet is down there?” Hunter’s tone has changed from playful to tense.

  “What’s the matter, Hunter?” Sam pokes, as she slips the key in and unlocks the door. “Scared?”

  Instead of answering, Hunter pushes past Sam and is the first to enter the dimly lit stairwell. Though he tries not to show it, he’s obviously relieved to discover that the closet is located at the bottom, just two feet from the last step.

  He’s already got it open, and pulled the string attached to a lone, bare bulb which casts the space into swinging shadows.

  “Is it all going to fit?” Cassy asks, poking her head through the doorway.

  “It’s going to be tight,” John agrees, stepping up next to Hunter. “Why don’t you girls hand everything in to us, and we’ll pack it in as best we can. Start with the cardboard.”

  After ten minutes of quietly feeding the stash into the small room, Sam finds herself at the back of the supply-line. Impatient and unwilling to stand still, her curiosity takes over and she wanders farther down the narrow hallway.

  After about twenty feet, it branches off to the left and right, but both of those corridors are darker than the one she’s standing in. About to turn back, a slight scuffling sound from somewhere in the murkiness stops her. Frozen with fear, the sound of her own heartbeat threatens to drown out any other noise and Sam forces herself to calm down.

  There!

  Spinning to her left, she squints into the gloom, trying to figure out what could be making the faint scraping noise.

  “What is it?”

  Nearly jumping out of her skin, Sam spins around to find Ally and Cassy standing right behind her. Laughing at herself, she grabs onto Ally’s arms to keep from falling over.

  “Oh my gosh! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Stepping back, Sam points towards the faint sounds, which are rapidly fading away. “Footsteps!” she gasps, finally putting it together. “Like someone shuffling along with heavy boots or something.”

  “Why are we whispering?” John and Hunter have joined them, and the older boy is studying the hallway that Sam is still pointing down.

  Sam didn’t even realize she was whispering, and blushes slightly, knowing the boys will tease her endlessly about claiming to hear a ghost. But before she has a chance to admit to it, a louder, more resonating thud comes from farther away.

  All five of them look at each other, wide-eyed. There’s no mistaking the fact that they all heard the same thing, and that it came from somewhere in the basement. A space that is locked up, in a school that is supposed to be empty, except for them.

  Without thinking, Sam begins to walk down the hall, but doesn’t get far before a strong hand grabs her arm to stop her.

  “What are you doing?” John demands, his face a mask of concern.

  “There has to be an explanation,” Sam says reasonably. “Maybe somebody left an outside door open and it caught in the wind. We were left with the responsibility to make sure the school is locked up, so we should check. I would hate to have Lisa get in trouble because of it.”

  “Or we can call Lisa and have her come back,” Cassy offers, obviously not interested in investigating the sound.

  “She won’t be able to,” Ally states. “She’s probably got the horse loaded up by now and is just starting on her way back. Remember? She’s in another town. I agree with Sam. Let’s just take a quick look. If we hear anything else, we can call my dad.”

  Sam’s surprised at her friend’s bravery. While she’s never backed down from a mystery, it’s often because of Sam’s prompting and convincing, not the other way around.

  “I guess,” John starts, and the slight loosening of his hand is all Sam needs. Pulling away, she quickly starts back down the hallway, leaving her friends the choice to either follow or stay behind. They all follow.

  At the next juncture, another fifty feet away, a red sign with an arrow points to the right. Under it are the initials ‘BR’ again. Sam follows it without hesitation.

  After only taking a couple of steps though, she pauses, raising her nose to the stale air and breathing deeply. The hairs once again begin to prickle on the back of her neck. It’s the same cologne she smelled the other day in Mrs. Potts’ house!

  Ally pushes up into her back, grasping her around the waist. “What is it?” she whispers in her ear, sensing the tension.

  Without answering, Sam shakes her head in response, and then the five creep forward as a group. There’s an electricity in the air, and it isn’t clea
r whether it’s the artifact of a soul that met a sudden death, or merely the work of their imaginations.

  The hall eventually opens up into a large room, the ceiling lined with bare pipes. On the far end is a steel cage, housing what looks like a large, cast iron monstrosity. As they grow closer to it, the same banging they heard before explodes in the room, causing them all to jump, and Cassy to scream!

  Spinning as one towards the source, John is the first to point out the newer-looking heating unit. It’s housed in a similar-looking cyclone-like fencing, but the large gate on the front of it is open. As they watch, the humming coming from the machine cuts off and the gate again swings slightly, banging in its frame.

  “The janitor must have left that open,” John guesses. “As it got dark out, the temperature dipped enough to kick the furnace on, and the backdraft from its intake as it shuts on and off is enough to move that gate.”

  Laughing, Cassy smacks Hunter on the back. “You really thought there was a ghost, didn’t you?”

  Sam doesn’t pay attention to her brother’s response, as she makes her way over to a plaque that’s situated on the wall, next to what has to be the boiler. The smell of cologne is stronger here, and she’s almost not surprised when she recognizes the face of the man on the memorial.

  In memoriam of a friend and beloved employee of Eagle Creek Middle School.

  May his soul rest in peace.

  1939 – 1969.

  Thaddeus B Potts.

  7

  FAMILY TIES

  “I heard something else before the banging,” Sam insists, pushing aside a branch. She’s talking to both Ally and Cassy, who are following close behind her. They started their trek up the hill to Mrs. Potts’ house as soon as class let out. Sam’s discovery the night before made sitting through the day even harder. Now, not only does she have the pictures of the wreck to share with her, but a ton of questions about the obvious family connection between Benjamin Potts and the janitor that is supposed to be haunting the halls of Eagle Creek Middle School.

  Cassy spotted a trail that looked well-used part way up the long, paved road, so they opted to follow it. Since the Potts’ house is the only one at the top, it makes sense that this is a short cut.

  A large crack of thunder rips through the sky above them, and Sam pauses to look up. The skies nearest them are still blue, but they spotted the dark clouds out over the ocean before entering the trees. Picking up the pace, she continues her train of thought.

  “It sounded like footsteps. And it was moving away from us. I’m telling you, I think there was someone else down there.”

  “Then why didn’t you say something to the boys?” Ally scolds, always the one to think of safety first. It was the reason Sam didn’t tell her best friend until now.

  “Because it’s obvious that whoever it was, didn’t want to be found,” Sam reasons, stepping over a large root. “I didn’t think we were in any danger,” she adds for Ally’s benefit. The trail is steeper than she thought it would be, and she’s beginning to get winded.

  “Or maybe we have two different ghosts, wearing the same cologne?” Cassy suggests, referencing the fragrance Sam previously mentioned. Cassy didn’t notice it last night, but Ally had caught a whiff of it.

  Sam smiles at her friend’s clever joke, but it troubles her that she doesn’t have a good comeback. Frowning now, she’s relieved to see the familiar driveway up ahead through the trees. The first drops of rain are just starting to fall.

  They climb the impressive front steps, and Sam barely has a chance to drop the elaborate knocker a second time, when the door is yanked open by Mrs. Potts. She smiles warmly at them, in stark contrast to their first greeting a few days ago.

  “Girls! It’s so great to see you. Hurry up and come inside, before this storm unleashes on you!”

  Happy to oblige, the three friends rush inside and kick their sneakers off in the foyer. Once again, a welcoming fire is popping and snapping in the sitting room.

  “Thanks for agreeing to see us, Mrs. Potts,” Ally says, hanging her damp windbreaker on a vacant hook.

  “Please, do call me Grace. I don’t have many friends, so I’d rather keep things informal!”

  Sam smiles at the older woman, happy that she would call them her friends. Today, she is dressed more casually in a stylish, yellow jogging outfit. Her hair is tied up with a matching yellow scrunchie, and Sam thinks how the bright color makes her face appear more youthful.

  “Sam,” Grace says over her shoulder as she leads the way into the warm sitting room. “You sounded rather eager on the telephone. I apologize for not being available this weekend, but my schedule was much busier than usual. There was a fundraising banquet on Saturday evening, and then a rotary club meeting yesterday afternoon, after church. What is it you need to talk with me about?”

  Now that she’s seated in front of Mrs. Potts, Sam feels a sudden sense of unease. What if the discovery of the boat has the opposite effect Sam expects? What if she is heartbroken, rather than comforted? Glancing nervously at her friends, Sam notes that they are seated in the exact same spots as before, with her sandwiched between Ally and Cassy on the loveseat, even though there is another empty one across from them. The familiar setting helps to settle her nerves and when she spots a pitcher of lemonade and plate of cookies set out on the old wood coffee table, she is further encouraged. Mrs. Potts really is happy to have them there.

  “Mrs. – I mean, Grace,” Sam begins, quick to correct herself. “When we were putting away our decorations last night at the school, we happened to see a memorial.” While eager to show the photos to their host, Sam figures she’ll start with the easier of the two topics.

  “Oh, yes!” Grace exclaims, nodding her head. “Thaddeus Potts. I’m sure you must have figured out the family relation, based on the name.”

  “And from the picture,” Cassy adds. When Grace gives her a questioning look, she rushes to explain. “We stopped by the afterschool program on Friday, and saw the cool ship wheel plaque for your husband. His picture is on it, and he looks just like Thaddeus Potts!”

  “That’s because Thaddeus was Benjamin’s father,” Grace states, picking up the plate of cookies. Passing them to the girls, she then pours herself a cup of lemonade. “I picked the pictures out for both of those dedications,” she continues, a faraway look in her eyes. “Although Thaddeus died when Benny was just fifteen, it was a full thirty years later before his devotion to the school was recognized. Our rotary donated it.

  “I was rather put out when I heard that it was placed in the basement. I expected it to go in the front hall. However, Benny was adamant that I not make a fuss over it, and thought that it was rather appropriate it be in the space his father spent the most time in.”

  Sam digests this information, while accepting a cool glass of juice to help chase the cookie she’s munching. “I don’t know a good way to ask this, but according to my brother, there’s a ghost story surrounding the … accident that he died in.”

  To Sam’s surprise, Mrs. Potts chuckles and claps her hands together. “You mean the boiler explosion? That story has been exaggerated with each telling! While there was a small steam leak that caused the original injury, Thaddeus in no way died in that building.”

  “I knew it!” Cassy shouts, in spite of her mouth being full of cookie.

  “What really happened, then?” The more rational Ally asks, scooting forward.

  “Thaddeus suffered a moderate steam burn to a good portion of his arm,” Grace explains. “He would have been perfectly alright, but he was a stubborn man, much like my Benny. He refused medical care, and it ended up becoming infected. By the time he was talked into going to the hospital, he was septic. That’s where the infection reaches your bloodstream, and causes your internal organs not to work properly. Medical treatment in 1969 in a small town wasn’t very aggressive, and when they finally transferred him to a larger facility, it was too late. He never recovered from it, and Benny was fatherless at
the age of fifteen.

  “He used to spend hours in that basement with his father, Thaddeus. As a janitor, he was needed for other matters on the grounds during the day, while the children were present. In the afternoon, he would go down to the basement and make the rounds, checking to insure that the aging boiler system was working properly. Benny told me how proud he was the first time his mother allowed him to walk the trail over to the school, and spend the afternoon with his dad. They had a very modest home at the base of this hill. Even after he entered high school, Benny would still join his father when he could. It was a special time together for them. It was because of that experience, that he became the man I fell in love with. With the same dedication to hard work as his father, he did the one thing Thaddeus fell short of: chasing his dreams. That is what led to the Potts’ Boat Company.”

  Seizing the mention of Benjamin Potts and his boat store, Sam tentatively takes her phone from her back pocket. She quickly pulls up the first picture from the cove, and shoves it in Grace’s direction before she loses her nerve.

  “What’s this?” the older woman asks, taking the phone and looking closely at the image.

  “I think it might be the remains of Mr. Potts’ boat,” Sam answers, practically whispering. Without any further explanation, she moves over to sit next to Grace, and swipes her finger across the surface of her phone until the close-up shot of the plank is visible.

  Clearly stunned, Grace stares at the image for a full two minutes before letting out a pent up breath. “Where did you find this?” Her emotions are hard to read, but she looks up at Sam and there is an intensity in her grey eyes that wasn’t there before.

  “In a hidden cove out in the state park south of town,” Sam replies, afraid to look away. “Our brothers found it several years ago. They bragged about it, calling it the pirate cove, but never told us where it was. After visiting the afterschool program Friday, I suspected it could be your husbands boat. When I saw the unusual material used to make the planks, I figured it might be Mr. Potts’ invention.” Her heart nearly in her throat, Sam rushes through her explanation in one breath, afraid of the reaction it was going to cause.