A Summer of Fear: A True Haunting in New England (11 page)

“Rebecca,” Linda began with what sounded like false cheer, “we need to talk to you.”

“Okay,” I declared brightly, folding my hands in my lap and trying hard not to twist them. Perspiration was gathering under my arms and running down my sides in streaks. I could never stay dry when I was nervous. Fabrics that didn’t breathe were not my friends. “There’s some things I need to talk about, too.”

Linda looked down at her Birkenstocks and bit her lip.

“We’ve discussed everything and we just feel this is not the right place for you,” Janet pronounced in a hurry. I could detect the faintest of smiles whispering across her pursed lips.

What?

“We’ve talked to the other staff and, the fact is, you’re just not getting along with anyone. People think you’re rude, and not nice, and we just can’t have that kind of attitude here,” Linda continued for Janet. She tried to look regretful, but it wasn’t working. “This is supposed to be a fun place with a relaxed atmosphere. You’re just not fitting in.”

What?

I didn’t even know where to begin with that. “Not everyone feels that way,” I pointed out at last. “I’ve made friends with some of the kitchen staff.”

The two women exchanged looks and Linda even raised her eyebrows slightly, a move that infuriated me. I resented the implication that, because they were foreign and worked in the kitchen, they somehow didn’t count. True, they weren’t pot smoking interns, but I liked them.

“Well,” Janet disclosed, leaning forward, “we’ve talked to them, too, and explained that you have some health concerns that affect your attitude and we just can’t keep you on anymore.”

My eyes just about boggled right out of my head. “What?” I laughed. “Are you serious? What ‘health concerns?’ And even if I did, wouldn’t that violate some kind of HIPPA policy? To discuss health problems with people I didn’t give you permission to?”

They stared at me like I was speaking another language. Kory walked by the office then and peeked in at us. Janet smiled at her before she hurried on.

“This makes no sense to me,” I muttered.

“And another thing,” Janet added. “You always look too happy to leave on Fridays. You’re always going out of town. Like you don’t want to be here.”

“Hey,” I squealed. “You told me in my interview that being able to travel in the surrounding area and sightsee was a perk of this location. And, I’m sorry, but it’s Friday! Everyone is happy to have a few days off.”

“We’re very sorry, but we’ll need you to leave today,” Linda said with resolution.

“It’s 3:00 pm,” I sputtered. “I live five states away. We don’t get paid for another week. You haven’t provided my meals or given me a place to cook so I’ve had to eat out almost every day. There hasn’t been a chance to save much money, especially not enough to drive all the way back right now and stop along the way, which is what I’ll have to do since I’m alone. Where the hell am I supposed to go?”

The women looked at one another as though this thought hadn’t crossed their minds.

“I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to leave,” Janet sighed. “You’re belligerent and mean-spirited. We’ve tried being kind to you but you won’t have any of it.”

She didn’t mention the ghosts, my falling, or any of the issues I’d brought up to her. The fact of the matter was, I was too much work for them. Much like the ghost had disrupted my life, I was disrupting theirs. The ghost had been my parasite, eating off me and sponging my energy. In some way, I had done the same to them. Maybe it was my fault, maybe it wasn’t. In the end, it didn’t matter.

There was no use arguing. They were giving me an out. I would have to go home now. I would have to face the fact that I’d tried this job, tried to do something different for myself, and had failed. I wasn’t as upset as I thought I’d be. Oh, I was mad as hell, but at least I could leave. That decision, having been taken out of my hands, was no longer mine. It was freeing, in a way.

Having nothing left to say, and no energy left to waste on people who obviously didn’t want me, I got up and paraded out of the room and stalked to my desk, my head held high as other staff members pretended not to watch. As I began putting my personal belongings in a box, I picked up the office phone and called my mother. I didn’t care that it was on their dime.

“Mom?” I began as soon as she answered. “I’m coming home. I got fired.”

“What?” she cried. “Why!?”

“Probably because the light went out in the stairs and I fell down it, again, and they just don’t want to deal with me anymore. And they say I’m mean and nobody likes me.”

“Keep your voice down,” Janet hissed from behind me.

“Oh, stop,” I snapped back, not even looking at her. “I’m not making a scene. You’re the one who fired me with the office door open and everyone walking by, trying not to listen. And telling my friends I had ‘health concerns?’ Lady, you’re lucky I’m not calling a lawyer right now.”

I went back to the conversation with my mother. “Look, I’m sorry but I need help with money. They did this to me a week before pay day. I have the gas to get home, but little else. Can you make me a hotel reservation for Hartford for tonight? I’ll stop there on the way.”

“Yes, but I’d be pissed,” she seethed. “What do they think they’re doing?”

“It’s okay, Mom,” I said wearily. “This isn’t the place for me. I’m not this person. I just need to come back.”

“Just be careful,” she advised. “The only important thing is that you’re coming home.” Her voice sounded lighter, relieved.

With that, I grabbed my belongings from my desk, turned around, and trooped out of the office and up the stairs. I wouldn’t have to look at any of them again.

M
erricka and Sarah cried while I stuffed clothing into my suitcases. “I can’t believe you’re going,” Sarah wailed. “It’s mean. No fair. You’re the only person we
like
.”

“It’s for the best,” I sighed. They were trying to help me pack, but both sat on my bed, heads low, looking dejected. “I’m sorry I won’t be here to take us to the beach and movies.”

“We had plans for the summer,” Merricka moaned. “We were going to have fun.”

“I know,” I said sadly. I could feel a few glimmer of tears filling my eyes. They threatened to spill over so I tried to rub them away. “I was starting to look forward to it, too. But you know I can’t stay here. Look at what’s happening. I’m going out of my mind. That thing, that boy, he won’t leave me alone. He’s eating at me. By the end of the summer, I might not even recognize myself. I came here in bad shape, but the place, it’s making me worse. They wouldn’t move me. Getting rid of me is best. They just don’t want to deal with me anymore.”

“It’s not fair,” Sarah said again.

The door across the hall slammed, as if in agreement.

T
he air was dense and full as I pulled away from the farm house. There was no sunset, the sky was just bleached. A light mist covered my windshield, chilled me. I turned the heat on “low” and let the warmth cover me and fill me, inside and out. The trees were motionless. They were just starting to fill out with green leaves, but in the fog they looked brown, murky. The air wasn’t so much still as it was stagnant. A smell I’d never noticed before rose from the ground, fell from the sky, and tried to wrap around me and the car. It was old and unpleasant. My stomach was turning a little and I felt like I could vomit.

The farm house rose up behind me, a sentinel. I knew Merricka and Sarah were on the front porch, sitting in the rocking chairs, waving at me. They’d helped me carry everything down. Sarah wore a bright pink top and Merricka had on light blue shorts. When I’d last looked at them on the porch they’d been beacons of light, their vibrancy fighting the murkiness and shadows. But the fog was starting to close in on them, too.

My mother was waiting for me. I wouldn’t get there until late the next night, but no matter the time she’d be sitting up in the living room, the light on for me with something ready to eat. And David was waiting. I just had to give the word and he’d be there. I was ready to quit for awhile, to let someone else fuss over me and make some trouble over me. I was tired, but strengthened.

I tried not to look back; tried only to push forward on the gas and forget about what had happened there. But I couldn’t help it. Adjusting my mirror, I slowed down and gazed backwards. The girls were still on the porch, still waving. I looked up. I could see the window of my attic room clearly. It watched me pull away. And as I watched
it
, the lamp flickered on and the room filled with light.

The drive back home was long; it felt even longer than the thirteen hours it took me. I only vaguely remember parts of it. I pulled over into a youth hostel in Hartford, Connecticut and spent the night in an old, ramshackle house and then got up early the next morning and drove the rest of the way straight through. Somewhere in Pennsylvania I slept in the front seat of the car at a rest area until the sun got too hot beating in through the windows.

I didn’t feel as defeated as I thought I would. I’d tried my best, but just wasn’t strong enough to work or live in that environment. It wasn’t the place for me, even without the ghost.

Upon returning home I took a few weeks to readjust and pack my bags for Wales and then I got on a Greyhound bus and took off for Florida. It took me almost thirty-six hours to travel down the coast, but David was waiting for me there. I spend the rest of the summer recovering, relaxing, and recuperating. He provided me with a sanctuary and the friendship I needed.

We spoke little of what transpired in the farm house. He’d already heard most of it by the time I arrived. Over the course of the next few months I tried to forget it. I wanted to move forward. In fact, in time the events even began fading from my mind.  Had it not been for the letters I sent home and the diary I kept I might have been able to forget the details and pretend it never happened, that it had all been a nightmare.

I left for Wales in October.

To get to my university town I had to fly into London, take a three-hour train ride to Cardiff, transfer to a small town called Carmarthen, take a one-hour bus ride to MY town, and ride a pack mule the rest of the way. (Just kidding about the mule part…sort of.)

Of course, the airline lost my luggage. I had nothing but my laptop and a small carry-on which, thanks to FSA guidelines, allowed me very little. Naturally, it was raining and frigid and I’d packed my coat in my suitcase so that I didn’t have to keep up with it on the plane.

By the time I arrived at the university I’d been traveling for almost twenty-four hours. It was dark; I was cold and wet. When I found my way to the front office, I was informed that since it was so late they’d “accidentally” given my room away. Swell.

“No worries, love,” the cheerful porter sang. “I’ll find you a room!” He loaded me up on a golf cart and drove me to a nearby dorm. There, he began opening doors at random, trying to find me one that hadn’t been taken.

While he was doing this, I became aware of a tall, very good-looking guy standing in the hallway. He was movie-star handsome with bright blue eyes and blond, curly hair. I was worn out and looked like a drown rat. My laptop was heavy. “Excuse me,” the porter said to him. “Can she put her bags in your room until we find her one?”

The guy’s name was Pete and he was waiting for his friends. They were getting ready to go out to dinner to celebrate their first semester of graduate school. The porter found me a room five doors down from him.

Several weeks went by and we quickly developed a friendship. We shared a kitchen and I found that I was hanging out in it more and more, hoping to see him. Of course, whenever I went in there I was always in full makeup, cute clothes, and had great-looking hair. It wasn’t suspicious at all at 2am!

I kept up this charade for almost a month. And then I got a job picking carrots at an organic farm. Since I hadn’t finished my contract at the resort, I’d arrived in Wales with very little money and it became essential that I pick up some work. I’d applied for several positions but, so far, only the farm had replied with an offer.

It was dirty, uncomfortable work. The muck and grime would cling to my skin and hair and the thick gloves and Wellingtons I wore did little to protect my hands and feet from the mud and cold. I came home every day and quickly jumped into the shower before anyone could see me. The farm was beautiful but carrot picking is no joke; it’s a lot of work!

One day, though, the weather was particularly miserable. It was raining, cold, and the mud was so thick it came up to my knees. I could barely see for the torrential rain and my hands were freezing before I‘d even stuck them in the ground.

When we got to the field, I hopped off the tractor and started to take a step forward and…SPLAT!
I
moved but my feet did not. I wound up face down in the mud. I was mortified. The owners carted me home where I HOPED I could sneak in and clean up before anyone saw me.

It was then I realized I’d locked myself out of my dorm room.

A call to housekeeping told me they could be there in half an hour. Nobody else was around so I tried to hide in the corner of the kitchen, keeping quiet.

Pete wandered in ten minutes later.

To his credit, he didn’t laugh in my dirt-streaked face but he DID offer to let me use his shower and put on one of his T-shirts until housekeeping arrived.

It was when he saw me, mud and all, that he says he realized he was in love with me. I’d known a little sooner.

Two years later, we gave birth to our first child. We married, moved back to the United States together upon graduation, and (for the most part) lived happily ever after.