“Of course not,” she insisted. “There are no such things as ghosts. I mean, you’re a science major, right?”
“Yeah, genetics.”
“You don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”
“Well, um, I...”
“Theo, you must be joking,” she said, making her voice dramatic.
“I... um... I have to go. It was nice to meet you, Jules... again. Um... Maybe we can talk some other time? Somewhere else? And, um, you shouldn’t be in here alone at night. It’s not safe.”
He turned and all but ran from the room. What a strange boy. Jules shook her broken machine a couple of times, sighing at the unwanted rattle from inside the little black plastic box. Then she headed out herself. No point hanging around in here after dark alone with no equipment.
She stalked to the door, her thick-soled boots clunking noisily even on the red industrial carpet. At the door, she lowered the slide that turned out the house lights. For just a moment, there seemed to be a figure sitting in a seat at the bottom row of the balcony. Jules gasped and returned the lights to high. Nothing.
Your mind is playing tricks on you, girl. Get out of here before you start believing in ghosts.
Shaking her head, Jules turned out the lights and left the building.
***Chapter 2***
The Oaks trailer park was not strictly residential. Being on route 45 headed in and out of Haysville it catered to a lot of traveling holiday makers. It did have a residential section that was tidy, and the management required that trailer homes be well maintained.
Theo had a spot for his motor home in a beautiful shady area of the park that was meant for travelers. He was under a sprawling old oak tree. The shade was, right then, moon shadow. It was a crisp, starry night, the quiet trailer park bathed in an eerie silver glow.
Theo chained his scooter to the chrome nudge bar on the front of his new top-of-the-range motor home. He had already lost one scooter. It would be nothing for someone to toss this one into the back of a pickup as well. He snapped the padlock shut and lugged his backpack full of books inside. Biology textbooks were huge. He had spent the evening working on a long page of biochemistry problems, at the library until those lights were turned off, and then he had moved to Starbucks and set up in a quiet corner until after eleven.
He extracted his laptop from the backpack and put it on the charger. The battery failing had been the impetus for packing up and coming home. But he had stopped at the auditorium in response to burgeoning curiosity over talk around campus that the guy in the brown suit was back. It had been years since the last sighting.
Theo took a half tray of lasagna from the fridge and tossed it in the microwave. He had a perfect setup. The motor home was decked out with a full yet compact kitchen and dining area. That was at the front of the vehicle. There was a lounge area in the middle; full leather, with a big-screen television. Then the bedroom with a queen-sized bed of total luxury, and a white plastic bathroom beyond that.
Theo was basically alone in the world, so the relatively small living area was all he needed. His parents had been killed in a plane crash two years ago. They had left him the family home, which he had rented out, and a quite substantial life insurance payout, which he had invested in a term deposit. The rental income was enough for a college student like himself to live on. He would probably sell the house one day, as he couldn't imagine living there again. He had enough trouble with ghosts without inviting nightly visits from his mom and dad. Although he figured they had probably moved on.
He washed up after eating and showered for bed. There was a deck of cards on the bedside table that he used every night for exercise. Not for any kind of physical workout, but to activate his gift, to keep it tuned.
Red. Red. Black. Red. He could go through the deck sensing the colors without effort. Hearts. Clubs. Eight of spades... He flicked the cards at a shoebox in the corner of the room as he turned them over.
Diamonds. Hearts... No, that wasn't a heart. He had seen a heart but the card was the ace of spades. The face of that girl had just popped into his mind, though; the girl he had startled in the auditorium. What was her deal anyway? He had seen her around campus. Always dark with the clothes and makeup.
It had been the first time he had spoken to her. The first time he had seen her close up and noticed her pretty dark-brown eyes.
Theodore Kent flicked the light off and rolled over, pulling the bed cover up to his chin. So, she's into ghosts huh? He smiled.
***Chapter 3***
The October sun had not yet fully illuminated Jules’ bedroom when the alarm on her bedside table began to buzz its obnoxious grating whine. Grumbling, she switched it off and hoisted her slender body out of the bed. The coldness of the dorm room’s laminate flooring was good for another grumble. Yuck.
Jules didn’t do any morning with particular grace. Given the choice she’d sleep until noon. But her 7:30 philosophy class wouldn’t wait for her. Philosophy, bah. People with too much time on their hands. Nothing more. She had no patience with it. And the books they had to read?!
She locked herself in the pink tiled Jack and Jill bathroom between her and Keller’s room and the one next door and turned on the shower. The water hit the plastic surround with the force of a hurricane. By the time she was finished, everyone would be awake. Everyone except Keller that is. Her roommate had once again kept her up late with a passionate serenade of gasps and giggles. Ugh. If and when Jules ever found a lover, she would be more discrete.
Trying to banish the memory, Jules concentrated on washing her just-past-shoulder length black hair. Then, clean and finally awake, she stepped out and pulled on a terrycloth bathrobe, the only white article of clothing she owned.
She detangled her hair with a wide-toothed comb and left it to dry naturally while she applied her makeup. No need for foundation. Her long thin face was blessed with even, unblemished skin in a rather shockingly pale tone. Even if she wanted to smear goop all over it, it would be almost impossible to match. Nor did she add blush, pale being the effect she wanted. Now the eyes were a different story. Grabbing a pot of liquid liner from the tiny white plastic basket in the medicine cabinet, she lined her chocolate brown eyes fully, top and bottom, in stark black, drawing long winged lines out to each side. Charcoal grey shadow filled in the eyelid to the crease and silver above to her thin arched eyebrows. For a moment she stopped to examine her face. Narrow with high, prominent cheekbones, a straight but rather long nose. Small full lips. She considered for what must be the thousandth time getting a nose ring. A little sparkling stud might be cute. But no. The logistics of that, especially with the inevitable winter cold she always caught, made that a bad idea.
Instead she pulled out a tube of toothpaste and brushed her teeth before applying a thick coat of burgundy lipstick. Then she sighed. Again, always, she forgot to get dressed before applying lipstick. The insides of all her tops were smeared with red and black paint. Oh well, at least she was consistent.
She slipped from the bathroom and turned on the lamp. Keller muttered in her sleep and pulled her green satin comforter over her head. Served her right. Jules opened the cheap white veneer dresser and pulled on a black lace thong that stopped well short of her dangling belly-button ring; a gold hoop with a crescent moon attached. Then she donned black track pants, also quite low, and a black fitted tee shirt with a silver tribal butterfly ironed onto it. The shirt was a trifle short. If she didn’t cover up, the gold Celtic knot tattooed on her lower back would show. So she added a black hoodie that was quite a bit too big for her slender frame and covered her to the middle of her butt. There. All set. She added socks and her thick-soled boots, and headed out, hoping to get a bite of breakfast before class. Philosophy on an empty stomach was too much to ask. Especially first thing in the morning.
Outside the air was crisp, almost bitingly cold, and the leaves on the trees had long since faded from green to gold and were now wearing brilliant shades of scarlet to match the bricks of
the university buildings. A little gust of wind sent a pile of fragrant decomposing fragments swirling. Soon it would be Halloween. Jules liked Halloween. There was no reason for it. Despite her goth appearance, she really was an engineering freak. After philosophy class she would spend the rest of the morning dismantling the EMF/GPR and finding the broken component. She had no doubt she would succeed in that. The question was how to strengthen the wimpy radar so it would penetrate through the basement, the soil, and the bedrock to detect the depth of the aquifer beneath. That would be the challenge. But she was up to it. Machines were her specialty and she hadn’t been bested by one yet. Today would not be the first time.
The cafeteria was the only building on campus that was a single story and more glass than brick. They had tried to make it look like a café, with bay windows on either side of the glass front door. She pushed open the crash bar and stepped onto peeling white linoleum with yellow flecks. Yuck. This building was due for a major makeover. Even cheap carpet would be better than this. To the left and right small round wooden tables encircled with metal chairs crowded far too close together. This early, most were empty. Only a few intrepid students, some in pajamas, yawned over coffee and orange juice, cereal and dry overcooked eggs. It looked like a shredded wheat kind of morning.
Jules walked down the center aisle to the back room where, sure enough, the stench of browned scrambled eggs threatened to overwhelm her. Breathing through her mouth and trying not to gag, she poured a travel mug of black coffee and a bowl of cereal. As usual, all the healthy choices were gone, even the shredded wheat. She was left with something sugary and full of marshmallows. Yuck. Even the overcooked eggs almost seemed better by comparison. Almost. She supplemented her sugary breakfast with some buttered whole wheat toast and an apple, and carried her tray to a table near the window.
Sighing, Jules took a bite. How did people get through the day on such unsatisfying fare? She ate the cereal quickly. Outside, the university was beginning to come to life. Thursday mornings often started early. Her eyes were drawn to a slim figure in a pair of butt hugging jeans. Nice. He was chaining a scooter to the bike rack outside the cafeteria. Then he pulled off his helmet. Jules blinked. Theo. When had he moved out of the dorm? He hadn’t said anything last night when they talked.
He saw her through the glass and waved. She raised her hand to return the greeting. Then he moved out of her line of sight to the door. His entry was accompanied by a blast of chilly air.
Moments later, he approached with a tray of eggs and toast, and a nervous expression on his face. “Do you mind?” he asked softly, indicating the chair next to Jules.
“Go ahead,” she replied. He sat.
“I can’t believe you’re eating that,” she commented. A strip of leathery egg lay atop his breakfast like a garnish.
“I know,” he replied, “but if I don’t eat in the morning, I get a little sick.”
She nodded. “I know what you mean. It’s just hopeless today.” She chewed the last sickening sugary spoonful and gulped her coffee to kill the sweetness. To the right, a chubby young man in a maroon sweatshirt was piling into a stack of waffles topped with rocky road ice cream. Jules shuddered and looked away.
The movement caused her to meet Theo’s eyes. He really did have nice eyes. Friendly, but with a hint of nerves lingering in the corners. For some reason it suddenly became important that he not feel nervous with her.
“Did you sleep well?” Jules asked idly, hoping inane conversation would soothe him.
“Relatively,” he answered. “You?”
“Not too well. Keller brought Bill over for a late-night party for two.” Oh, that was not the right thing to say to a boy she didn’t know that well. His cheeks flushed and the burning in her face made her realize she was blushing too. Without makeup the color would be perfectly visible. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“I understand,” he replied. “They really are too much.”
“Is that why you moved off campus?” she asked, trying to find a less touchy topic.
“Uh huh. That’s one reason.” He shook his head at the seemingly unpleasant memory.
“So where are you living now?” Jules pressed.
“Um, I have a motor home. I live at the park near the Air Force base.”
“Oh, I’ve been over there. That’s a pretty area. And they do a good job keeping it up, too.”
“They do. It’s not trashy at all and servicemen make great neighbors.”
At last he was relaxing. Thank goodness. He really was nice to talk to when he wasn’t stammering.
Jules finished her toast but tucked the apple into her backpack for later.
“What do you have this morning?” she asked him.
“Genetics. You?”
“Philosophy.” She grimaced. “Not my favorite, but it’s a requirement. What can you do?”
“It could be worse. I took theater appreciation last year. That was really boring.”
“I bet,” she replied. “I don’t mind watching a play, but I don’t care at all about how they come together.”
They grinned at each other.
“Are you done here?” he asked her. She nodded. “Maybe I could... um... walk you to class?”
“I would like that,” she said quietly. They carried their trays to a plastic trashcan and dumped the Styrofoam bowls and plastic spoons before shouldering their backpacks and heading out into the October wind again.
***Chapter 4***
At eleven, Jules was seated on the floor of her dorm room. Little bits of plastic and metal were spread out in the entire center of the room from one little bed to the other. Where was the broken piece? There. A wire had been pulled out of one of the couplings when it hit the floor. No good. She would need to replace it. It was a tricky repair, but well within the range of her deft fingers. It was one advantage of being a woman engineer. Small hands. She worked the broken coupling from its little spot inside the plastic box. It was a slow, tedious process, and her fingers grew slipperier as sweat began to bead on her forehead. But at last she got a good grip and wriggled the little black coated metal ring free. She threw it at the trash and missed, as usual. No matter. She would clean it up later.
The door opened with a loud screeching creak. Jules looked up and, sure enough, the teased blonde hair of her roommate appeared.
“Watch out, Keller,” she said distractedly. “I have stuff all over the floor.”
“Lovely,” Keller replied sarcastically, stepping carefully between the scattered components littering the pale laminate. “Couldn’t you do this somewhere else?”
“Nope,” Jules replied unapologetically. “This is the best place. Besides, after the way you kept me up all night, you owe me one.”
“Oh please,” Keller whined, finally arriving at her bed and flopping down on it. “You just wait, Miss Innocent. When you find yourself some nerdy goth boy, you’ll be just like me, wanting to get some all the time.”
“Even if that were true,” Jules retorted, “I would want some privacy. I mean, didn’t Bill’s roommate move out? Can’t you two stay over there?”
Keller sighed. “No. He has a new roommate. This dude just won’t put up with it.”
Jules turned away to hide her grin. She should have done the same.
“How long are you going to have this shit all over the floor?” Keller continued her harangue.
“I don’t know,” Jules replied. “Not too long. I have a robotics team meeting at noon, and I need to get some lunch before that. Maybe an hour?”
Keller rolled her big blue eyes and dug in her backpack, pulling out a huge white binder into which had been inserted a picture of gorgeous doll-like Keller kissing her buff football player boyfriend.
Somehow, Keller’s muscle-bound lover did nothing for Jules. He looked like a caricature of a man. Unreal. What would make her that wild with passion? She could hardly imagine a thing. The very idea of sex made her vaguely uncomfortable. How could anyone be eager to do som
ething that awkward? Jules shook her head and began reassembling the pieces of her gadget as quickly as possible. She was hungry and wanted some lunch.
She wouldn’t be able to finish putting the EMF/GPR back together until she wrangled up a new coupling, and since she had it apart anyway, she wanted to try and intensify the radar. Zipping the components into a gallon sized plastic baggie to keep out the dust, she set the bag on her black comforter, from which pink skulls with little hair bows grinned, and stepped into the bathroom to reapply her lipstick. Suddenly she couldn’t stop thinking about Theo.
***
Jules lingered after the robotics club meeting. There would be a competition in December, and the team had been reviewing the rules and brainstorming. As a senior, all set to graduate next month, this would be her last year on the team she’d helped found when she started at Hayesville State. It would be sad to let it go, even though her vice president, a brilliant sophomore named Tom, would be more than capable. Real life was knocking on Jules’ door, and she wasn’t quite sure she was ready.
Leaning back in the desk, she scanned the room absently, not really taking in the cluster of garish posters on the whitewashed wall, or the depressing grey sky beyond the third story floor to ceiling window.
“Jules?”
She turned to see Theo entering the classroom, a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand.
“Hi, Theo,” she said, trying to shake off the lingering hint of melancholy from her voice.
“Are you here for the meeting?” he asked.
“It’s over,” she replied.
“What? No. It hasn’t started yet. 12:30 to 1:15.”
“Theo, the meeting was for 11:45 to 12:30.”
“Huh?” he looked bewildered.
“You are talking about the robotics team, right?”
“Robotics? You must be joking. No, of course not. What do I know about robots? I deal in living organisms, remember?” He sank into the desk next to her.
He Loves Me Not: Haunted Hook-up Page 4