“Do you know how Mr. O’Connor was killed?” he asked with a knowing glance. Kate and Patrick shook their heads. “He was shot in the back. Do you want to know how he got into such a predicament?” Kate and Patrick nodded and sat forward with interest.
“Have you heard the story of the Battle of Guyandotte?” he said as he removed his glasses and rubbed them on his sweater. He twitched again.
“Sure,” Patrick said. “A bunch of Union soldiers came into town, they burned down what they thought was the Confederate church, but instead they actually burned down the church where the Union supporters were having a Sunday service. Right?”
“Exactly,” he said. “Not much of a battle, really. None of the churchgoers were hurt in the fire, but there were a few shots fired. No big deal. After the skirmish, the Union soldiers left town, went away west and camped near Kenova, on the Kentucky border. There were some rumors that a large Southern battalion was coming in from the east, so the Union sent small contingents out to keep watch. They were short on cavalry around here, so these boys walked mostly.
“A small group of soldiers was sent toward Huntington. Back then, it wasn’t much, just a bunch of farms, shops, rail station, and the river, of course. So, these boys walked all the way from Kenova to the property where your house now stands. They knew there was a rise there and a tall barn that they could quarter to get a nice, tall lookout,” he said. Kate noticed he pronounced these words, “Nass tawl loo-cowt.”
“When they got there,” he continued, “the master of the house was nowhere to be seen. So, figuring he was a good Northern supporter like much of the area, they decide to take over his barn and then later, ask him if it was okay.”
At this point, the historian leaned forward and lowered his voice to demonstrate the importance of what was coming next. “It seemed as though they figured him wrong. He was a zealous southern supporter, a hater of the Union, a passionate advocate of the southern states’ rights. He also had a screw loose, if you know what I mean. I understand that he had several young wives who met with mysterious deaths.” He leaned back in his chair.
“Mysterious deaths?” Kate asked.
The historian twitched. “Could have died in childbirth or from some nasty disease. People didn’t live very long in the 1800’s, but to lose several wives in a row....” He tilted his head in a knowing glance.
“So, O’Connor gets back. Apparently, he’d been out hunting because he had his gun and his hounds with him….
“Hounds? You mean dogs?” Kate interjected. The skin on the back of her neck prickled. She thought of the bad dreams, the claw marks on Lucy’s floor, the smiling canines on her chandelier.
“Yes, his hunting dogs. Why?”
“It’s just that…we have a lot of dog…dog noises around our house. You know, a lot of dogs in the neighborhood.” Kate stammered. Patrick nudged her under the table. She shut up.
The historian looked at her quizzically, but continued without further comment. “He hears a bunch of rowdy soldiers cavorting in his barn. He hears their northern accents and knows they’re Union soldiers. As a fighter of the southern cause, he feels it is his duty to rid the planet of such foul creatures who would invade his homeland. So, O’Connor quietly blocks the door and set his own barn afire. Well, that old barn just took off like a tinderbox. The soldiers were trapped inside, choking on smoke, burning to death. Very tragic,” he said, shaking his head.
“So, as the barn is being engulfed in flames, a messenger arrives on horseback from the base camp in Kenova. There’s O’Connor standing outside his burning barn, laughing, his dogs barking and howling away. When the messenger gets closer, he can hear the soldiers’ screams inside the barn. It didn’t take him long to realize that O’Connor had set the barn ablaze. The messenger popped off a round at him. Shot him in the back. He tried to save the men inside, but O’Connor’s dogs kept him at bay.”
“How many men died?” Kate asked.
“Unknown. The army back then didn’t keep such good track of who was going where. Two, three. Maybe more.”
“Whoa,” Patrick said. “What a story.”
“Is that what you wanted to know?” the historian asked with a curious look and a twitch.
“Yes, I think so,” Kate said as she rose to her feet. “Do you know, did O’Connor have any children?”
“I don’t believe so,” he said.
“He was married three times and didn’t have any children?” Patrick asked, the question directed more toward Kate than to the historian.
“Strange,” she responded. “Maybe his pipes didn’t work right.” Kate said, then regretted it. She heard the historian clear his throat uncomfortably.
“If that’s all….” he started.
“One more question, if you don’t mind,” Patrick said, turning his attention back to the man.
“Of course,” the historian responded with another twitch.
“Do you know where O’Connor was buried?”
“I’m not sure, but chances are good that his remains were refused at the churches and cemeteries, especially if he had no kin.”
“Could he be buried on the property?”
“It’s possible,” the historian said, removing his glasses for another cleaning. “Why are you two so interested in the history of the property?”
“School report,” Kate responded, probably a little too quickly.
The historian nodded slowly and rose from the table. After thanking him for his time, Patrick and Kate headed back down the stone path to Patrick’s car.
“Did you hear that?” Patrick said with excitement as soon as they pulled away from the curb. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes, I heard it,” Kate said with a shiver. After all, that barn was burned on the land where her house now stood, where soldiers were burned to death by a slavery-loving lunatic.
“That’s amazing. What a story.”
“He had three wives who died under mysterious circumstances,” Kate said.
“And shot in the back after committing murder,” Patrick added. “Connor’s remains are probably buried right on your property. It’s no wonder that the place is haunted. I’m surprised the ground hasn’t opened up and swallowed the whole house down.”
“You know, I still have to sleep in that house tonight,” she said, only slightly annoyed, because the same thoughts were occurring to her.
“Oops,” he said, stopping at a red light. “I’m sorry.”
“So, what now?” she asked.
“Mexican food,” he said with a smile.
“Now, wait a minute. I thought you didn’t want to date me until I broke it off with Jacob.”
“Hey, I didn’t say this was a date. As far as I’m concerned, we’re just some hungry friends going out for some chow.” He paused to look at her. “What do you say?”
“Sounds great.”
*
They went to the downtown Mexican cantina, which served surprisingly good food for a Mexican restaurant in West Virginia.
“Do you think that it’s O’Connor’s spirit that haunts the place, or the soldiers, or the wives?” Kate asked as she took a bite of chile relleno, an exotic dish she had never tried before. Its warm, spicy cheesiness comforted her somehow. With every bite, she felt better.
“Could be all of them. It could be O’Connor’s bones are still down there, rotting away, underneath your house. His wives too. ” Patrick munched on a tortilla chip. “It just seems like your house has a long, unpleasant history. Bad things happen to people who live there. We have O’Connor and the soldiers, then Pansy and her ghost lover, and then the old Blacker woman who lived there alone and went crazy….” Patrick trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought. He took a gulp of soda and a bite of his enchilada.
“So you’re saying if we don’t do something, something bad is going to happen to us too?” she said, knowing the answer.
Patrick shrugged. “I don’t know, but I sure don’t want to wait and find out.
”
“Well, my family is leaving for Indiana tomorrow afternoon. They’ll be gone until Sunday. Seth thinks we should dig up the basement,” she said, finishing her meal and wiping her mouth with a turquoise colored napkin.
“Really? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to think I was a crackpot. It’s not exactly something I want advertised.”
“Yeah, I understand.”
“We figured, all signs point to the dirt room. There’s got to be something in there, probably a body. If we dig it up and give it a proper burial....” She shrugged. “It’s stupid, I know. But we don’t know what else to do.”
“It’s not stupid. You’ve got to do something, right? Heck, if there’s somebody down there, you might finally bring some peace to the house.” He took a long drink of his soda. “So, can I help?”
“You want to help? Is this really how you want to spend Halloween night?” she asked him, skeptical.
“Oh, my gosh. That is Halloween.” He smiled enthusiastically. “Are you kidding me? Digging up a body in a real haunted house? That sounds like the most authentic Halloween I’ll ever have.”
“Well, we could use the help. I’ll talk to Seth about it tonight.”
When the check arrived, Patrick and Kate split it down the middle, since this wasn’t a date. Patrick drove her home. When he pulled up in front of her house, she turned to him and smiled.
“Thanks for a nice non-date!”
“You’re welcome,” he said, laughing. “Hey, what’s this?” He leaned toward her and gently lifted the gold cross which still hung around her neck. His fingers just grazed the soft depression of her neck and it sent shivers over her body. “This doesn’t seem like your style.”
She grinned, a little embarrassed by her obvious excitement over his proximity. “Uh, somebody gave it to me.”
“It looks nice on you,” he said softly.
“Thanks,” she said. She wanted to kiss him again. She leaned slightly toward him, gazing into his incredible eyes.
He suddenly pulled back into his seat. “See you tomorrow at school,” he said, clearing his throat.
“Okay.” She looked over to him, reached out and touched his wrist. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.” A cold rain started to splash drops on the windshield. “If you need me, day or night, call. Okay?”
“I will,” she said. She got out of the car and ran to the front door. She noticed again that he waited at the curb, engine running, until she safely entered the house, before he pulled away. She shut the door and peered through the sidelight, watching his car go down the street. At that moment, she felt the biggest smile beginning to flower on her face.
22.
The next day, Kate walked to school with a flutter in her stomach. Lucy walked beside her, or rather, floated beside her. Chris waited by the side door.
“Hi, Chris!“ Lucy sang out. She ran up to him and they embraced, kissing, like they hadn’t seen each other since yesterday or talked on the phone for hours last night.
Kate walked into the school, fumbled in the combination and popped open her locker. The pictures of Jacob were still there. She hadn’t had the heart to take them down yet. But this morning, remembering the wonderful kiss with Patrick, she did. She gently pulled the tape off each photo. Jacob in his football uniform. Jacob at the beach. Serious Jacob. Silly Jacob. They all came down. Kate stacked them neatly and pushed them to the bottom of her backpack.
Just as she finished, Patrick walked up to her. His hair was pulled back into his daily ponytail and the gray trench coat hung on his body, the pockets bulging with the usual stuff.
“Hi, Kate. Sleep okay?”
“Yeah, no bad dreams. No sleep-walking. Thank goodness.” She stood looking at Patrick, not knowing what to say next. Their relationship had changed and they could both feel it. It had been so romantic and fun last night, but here at school, it felt a little awkward.
“Um, did you finish your Pre-Cal homework?” Patrick asked. “It was hard, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it was hard.” Kate giggled coyly and looked at the floor. This was so weird. She felt so nervous, like people were looking at them, knowing their secret, but the usual morning banging of lockers went on around them.
“Hey, we’re still friends, right? I mean,” he lowered his voice, “don’t let what happened yesterday change that, okay?”
“Yeah, I know, but things have changed,” she whispered.
“Not really. We’re just friends who kiss sometimes.” Patrick whispered, then smiled.
She laughed and felt instantly better. “I like that. Okay.” The first bell rang. “I’ll see you later.”
*
“You want me to do what?” Kate asked in disbelief. They sat in the high stools of homeroom, bellied up to the black lab tables.
“I’m staying to help Ms. Dobbs after school. Please, please say you’ll come with me,” Lisa pleaded.
“Why would I want to do that? She hates me.”
“That’s exactly why you should come with me. If you help her, she’ll love you forever and the rest of the year will be a breeze with her.”
“You’re joking, right? She’s a nutcase.”
“I know that, but just think about it for a minute. If you help her out, she’ll never forget it, not even at grading time. Not even during the test on Jane Eyre.”
Jane Eyre. The book had ended so disappointingly. Kate had read the ending over and over again, not believing the weirdness of it. I mean, what kind of a love story was that?
“Besides,” Lisa went on, “you need to fulfill your Service Requirement to graduate, just like I do. It’s either this, or you can go down to the grade school and read to kindergarteners.” Lisa shivered at the thought. “All those messy little creatures.”
“You’re right,” Kate finally said. “I guess so.”
“It’ll be a piece of cake.”
*
After school, Kate and Lisa walked up the stairs to Ms. Dobbs’ room. A tired-looking Ms. Dobbs sat at her desk, grading papers. To Kate’s surprise, Ms. Dobbs actually smiled, sort of anyway.
“Hi, girls. Ready to work?”
Kate felt her face stretch into a grin. “Sure.”
“Okay, Lisa, take these down to the office and have them sign each and every one of them. Don’t leave until they do it, okay?”
“Okay,” Lisa said, taking a stack of grades. The first quarter was coming to an end and report cards were coming out soon. Kate had no idea what kind of report card she would get, especially from Ms. Dobbs. She had to force herself to look away from the stack. Lisa walked out the door and the room was suddenly quiet.
Kate panicked slightly. Alone with Ms. Dobbs.
“Kate, I need for you to grade these freshman quizzes for me. Here’s the answer key. Just mark off the ones that are wrong and put the total at the top.”
“Uh, okay,” Kate said. Ms. Dobbs handed her a red pen. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. She started grading, looking at the names of freshman she didn’t know. She wondered if she’d see Lucy’s name in the stack.
“So, did you finish Jane Eyre?” Ms. Dobbs asked her suddenly.
“Yes,” Kate said, quietly.
“And did you like it?”
“Actually, I loved it, until the ending.”
“What do you mean?” Ms. Dobbs asked, her eyes just starting to bulge.
“It wasn’t exactly a happy ending. I mean, it was a little confusing.”
“Yes, but when in life do you ever get a happy ending? And it was happy in some ways. Jane got some of the things she wanted, like answers and a purpose for her life. The ending of Jane Eyre is like life. Mixed up.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Kate thought about Jacob. She still felt sad when she thought of him, but then Patrick’s face popped into her mind and she smiled.
“What?” Ms. Dobbs asked, seeing the smile.
“Nothing, I guess you’re rig
ht. Life is mixed up. I didn’t think I would like the book, but I really did.”
“Good, I’m glad.” Ms. Dobbs smiled and she actually did look glad.
In a moment of pure madness, Kate blurted out, “Ms. Dobbs, if you were being threatened by something…I mean somebody…that wanted to get you, what would you do?” Kate bit her lip, hoping that Ms. Dobbs wouldn’t laugh at her.
Ms. Dobbs didn’t laugh. She just stared at Kate with those steel gray eyes. “What do you mean?” she asked.
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