Ghosts in the Attic (6 page)

“What was that?” she asked.

“It’s been doing that periodically ever since they reopened the building. Guess they still have some glitches to work out in the electrical system. You know, sometimes when they turn on the air, heat comes out of the vents instead.”

“Sounds like some shoddy contractor work, if you ask me.”

Laughing to himself, Dr. Rob said, “Or maybe it’s Patty.”

“Who?”

“Just an old school legend. The ghost of Winnie Davis Hall, surely you’ve heard it.”

Becky shook her head. “This building is supposed to be haunted?”

“Not really, but the story has been passed around since…well, I know it was already going around back when I first came here in the early 70s.”

“So what’s the story?” Becky asked, leaning forward. “I love a good spook tale.”

Dr. Rob made a face like he was reluctant to tell the story, but secretly he loved recounting all aspects of the history of Winnie Davis, even the parts that were clearly fabricated. “Well, the legend goes that back in the 1860s, when of course Limestone was still an all-women’s college, a student named Patricia Montgomery committed suicide by throwing herself off the top of the Winnie Davis tower, all because her boyfriend had been killed in the Civil War. They say she still haunts this building, wandering the halls, staring out from the windows of the tower, moaning her grief over her lost love.”

“That’s terrible,” Becky said with a slight shiver.

“And absolute baloney. There was no Patricia Montgomery.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“For one, the story is set during the Civil War, and Winnie Davis Hall wasn’t even built until 1903, nearly forty years after the Civil War ended. Plus, I’ve done plenty of research on the history of Limestone College, and no one has ever committed suicide in or around this building. It’s just a made-up story, probably so young male students could scare young female students. Winnie Davis was the perfect setting since it was so decrepit, and being shuttered up and off-limits for so long lent it a certain air of mystery. But I assure you, there’s no truth to the story. In fact, I haven’t actually heard any students swapping the tale since the renovation project really got underway.”

“Oh,” Becky said with what sounded like disappointment in her voice. “Well, it’s probably hard to believe a ghost story about this place anyway. I mean, everything’s so new and modern.”

“Yes, well, you’re a freshman. You didn’t see Winnie Davis in her true dilapidated state. I mean, at one point they really thought the whole roof was going to cave in. But you’re right, the way she looks now…well, I think the ghost of Winnie Davis Hall is an urban legend whose time has passed and will die a quick death.”

Becky smiled. “So no more Patty?”

“No, I think the fictitious Patricia Montgomery can finally rest in peace. Now, let’s talk about your paper.”

***

When Dr. Rob finally glanced at his watch, he was surprised to see it was almost 6 p.m. As usual, he was probably the last person in the building. His little conference with Becky this morning had put him behind schedule, but it was definitely time he called it a day. He started gathering up his things when his phone rang. He almost didn’t answer but then snagged the receiver. “Dr. Robinson, how may I help you?”

Nothing but static answered him, but that was nothing new. Along with the glitches in the electrical and heating/air systems, the phone lines apparently also had a few kinks to be worked out. He was just about to hang up when he heard a sound
underneath
the static. He pressed the receiver tighter against his ear and said, “Hello? Is there someone there? We have a bad connection.”

The static increased in volume, but so did the sound underneath it. A voice…female by the tone…but not actual words. It sounded like…well, it sounded like weeping.

Then the line went dead.

With a shake of his head, Dr. Rob hung up the phone and stuffed the last of his papers in his leather satchel. Turning off the lights, he closed the door behind him and made sure this time it was locked. He must be getting a bit absentminded in his old age—well, old
er
age—because several times over the past couple of months he’d apparently not closed the door enough for it to latch and found it open upon his return, just as he had this afternoon.

On his way to the stairs, Dr. Rob paused at the rotunda railing to glance down. It was only a quick peek though; it gave him a sense of vertigo he found unpleasant. Winnie Davis was a beautiful building but could be dangerous if one wasn’t careful. Which worried him a bit since college kids were not notorious for being careful. Just last semester a couple of jokers had somehow managed to hang one of the skeletons from the Biology lab on the chandelier that hung down from the skylight to the third floor. If one of them had slipped and fallen…

Dr. Rob turned back toward the stairs but then paused again, tilting his head and frowning slightly. What was that he heard? It was faint but familiar. Sounded like…

Weeping. Just as he’d heard on his phone under all the static.

The sound was coming from above him, so he glanced up toward the skylight. The glass was opaque so he couldn’t actually see through it and into the tower, but that seemed to be the source of the weeping. Students weren’t allowed in the tower; in fact, it was kept locked up tight to ensure no one could sneak up there.

And yet someone seemed to be up there now.

Dr. Rob walked over to the narrow staircase that led up to the tower. A velvet rope was draped across the foot of the stairs, the kind of rope one would see in a museum to keep curious gawkers out of restricted areas. He hesitated a moment then unclipped the rope and let it fall aside. He considered calling security, but only briefly. What if someone was hurt up there?

Sitting his satchel on the floor, Dr. Rob started up the staircase. It appeared to lead straight up to the ceiling but there was actually a trapdoor you pushed open to climb up into the tower. Normally an oversized Brinks padlock kept it securely sealed shut, a lock that only security and the maintenance crews had a key to. As Dr. Rob approached the trapdoor now, he saw that the lock had been removed and was sitting on the top step.

Dr. Rob reached up and pushed open the trapdoor. The weeping was definitely louder now, more distinct, as if before he’d been hearing it through a bad set of speakers. Moving slowly, he made his way up into the tower. There were actually two levels here, the lower level circling the skylight then another set of stair leading up to a narrow walkway that also circled the circumference of the tower, tall windows offering a stunning panoramic view of the campus and the surrounding neighborhoods. Dr. Rob could see nothing here on the lower level so he started up the stairs to the upper.

As he came up onto the walkway he saw her immediately. She was crouched under the nearest window, her knees. pulled to her chest. She seemed to wear no makeup and her brown hair fell free around her shoulders. She wore a simple peach dress, cinched tight at the waist and falling all the way to her feet. Very modest and somewhat old-fashioned. She was young, surely no older than nineteen. Dr. Rob didn’t recognize her, and Limestone was a small enough school that he knew most of the students.

“Miss, are you okay?” Dr. Rob said, approaching her cautiously.

Her head jerked up, and Dr. Rob saw her faded blue eyes were bloodshot from crying. She frowned at him, a puzzled look crossing her face. “Can you…are you talking to me?”

“Of course. Who else would I be talking to? There’s only the two of us here.”

The girl sat up a little straighter, and as Dr. Rob looked at her, he would have sworn he could actually see a blush creeping into her cheeks, and her blue eyes shone out brighter than before. “I haven’t felt this whole in ages,” she said in a quiet, marveling voice.

Dr. Rob stopped at a respectful distance, not wanting to frighten her, and knelt down. “Are you in pain?”

“No…not of the physical variety anyway.”

“I don’t understand. Do you need some help?”

The girl barked a humorless laugh. “Help? I don’t think there is any help for me.”

“What’s your name?”

“Patty. Patty Montgomery.”

Ah, so that was it. A prank. Dr. Rob wondered if Becky might be behind this. She didn’t really seem like a practical-joker, but considering he’d just been telling her about the ghost of Winnie Davis Hall, she seemed the most likely suspect.

“Miss, I don’t know who you are or who put you up to this, but you really shouldn’t be up here. I think it’s time for you to go.”

“Oh, I’ll be going soon enough, don’t you worry.”

“I’m serious, you can’t stay here,” Dr. Rob said and reached out for the girl’s arm, only instead of grasping warm solid flesh, his hand passed right through her. As if she were made up only of air, or was a hologram of some kind.

Dr. Rob scuttled back quickly, losing his balance and landing hard on his bottom.

A look of sympathy softened the girl’s expression. “I look whole, but I’m not. Oh, there was a time when I was corporeal enough to be touched, but those days are long in the past.”

“This is insane,” Dr. Rob said, and his voice sounded strange to his own ears, like someone trying to do an impersonation of him. “You can’t be the ghost of Patricia Montgomery.”

“And why can’t I be?”

“Because Patricia Montgomery never existed, she’s just a myth.”

“Well, it is true enough that I am just a myth, but as you can see it’s not true that I never existed.”

Dr. Rob looked back toward the stairs that would take him down and out of the tower, and a part of him whispered that he should do just that, but a bigger part of him was intrigued, his natural curiosity peaked and demanding answers. “I’m sorry, but you lost me.”

“In this case, it wasn’t a person who created a legend; it was a legend that created a person. Or if not an actual person then at least the manifestation of one.”

“But how?”

Patty shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know the how or why of it, I just know that over the years there was such belief invested in the story of Patty Montgomery, the tale was told so often and with such enthusiastic detail…well, it sort of gave birth to me.”

“So you’re saying that the urban legend…
made you
?”

Patty nodded.

Dr. Rob studied the girl closely. She looked so real, so three-dimensional. Her clothing was not really authentic to the Civil War era, but then he had to remind himself that she wasn’t actually the spirit of a Civil War maiden but was a representation created over the years by the collective belief of students whose knowledge of history was probably tenuous at best. He reached out toward her face then hesitated. “Do you mind?”

“Be my guest.”

He moved as if to stoke her cheek, but again his fingers passed right through her. There was no cold spot or electric tingling in his hand; it was as if nothing was there, despite the fact that he could clearly see her.

“The ghost of a person who never lived,” he said in a quiet church voice. “Fascinating.”

His mind was reeling with possibilities, with the ramifications of Patty’s existence. What about Big Foot, the Loch Ness Monster? Had years of persistent belief in these legends also created manifestations of the mythical creatures? And what of religion? Did devout worship of certain deities actually give form to these gods, a reverse creation story?

“It’s not much of an existence,” Patty said morosely, “skulking about this old building, staring out at the vibrant life of campus, but it’s all I’ve ever known and I have learned to be content with it. But pretty soon, I won’t even have that.”

“What do you mean?”

She pulled her knees tighter to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. The blush seemed to recede from her cheeks, leaving her complexion sallow. “It is only belief that keeps me here, but ever since they began the restoration of this building, that belief has been waning. Fewer and fewer students tell the tale of Patty Montgomery, and those that do hear it just scoff at it. Without the belief to feed me, I am beginning to fade away. It won’t be long before I wink out of existence altogether.”

“But you look so solid.”

“The only reason I am visible to you right now is because earlier today you shared my story with your student, and for just a brief flickering moment she entertained the possibility that Winnie Davis Hall might actually be haunted. That provided me with just enough sustenance to make myself appear whole, but already that strength is draining and I can feel myself slipping away again. I’m afraid I don’t have much time left.”

There was such pain in the girl’s voice that he wanted to reach out and lay a comforting hand over her own, although he knew that wasn’t possible. “What will happen to you?”

“Not sure. I doubt there’s a heaven for people who were never really real to begin with. My guess is that I’ll simply…stop.”

Dr. Rob was surprised by how much the idea affected him. Patty was a true marvel, and just like the building she haunted, surely there must be some way to preserve her. “Isn’t there anything you can do, something to make people believe again?”

“I’ve been using all the tricks in my arsenal and so far nothing. Opening locked doors, flicking lights on and off, phantom phone calls.”

“You’ve been doing all that? It was you?”

Patty smiled with such sadness that it felt like a jab to Dr. Rob’s gut. “And it never occurred to you that it was anything ghostly going on, did it?”

“Well, truthfully, no.”

“You see, it’s just as you and your student were saying. Everything about this building is now so new and shiny, it’s no longer the kind of setting for a credible ghost story. I don’t think there is anything I can do to revive belief in the ghost of Winnie Davis Hall.”

Dr. Rob was silent, wishing he could refute what she was saying but knowing she was probably right. Winnie Davis wasn’t the relic she once was, so the idea that a spirit roamed the halls lacked the plausibility it had in the past. If only—

“Wait a minute,” Dr. Rob said loudly, his voice echoing throughout the tower. “I just had an idea.”