Chatoyant College Book 14: Ghost Stories

Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 58: Otis

Saturday, November 11

Dawn was very disappointed that her friends had managed to actually get Alice’s full story without her present. When Roe managed to get in touch with Otis Atkins, she insisted that they all had to be there when Alice got to speak to him. Link had given Otis Roe’s phone number, and Roe had given Otis the basics of the situation, but they needed him to talk to Alice himself. Between his schedule, Lin’s, and everyone’s classes, it had taken them a few weeks to schedule something.

Finally, though, they all crowded into Annie’s room one more time and watched Lin sit in the chair and brace herself. She waited a moment, then frowned, her eyebrows drawing together quizzically. Dawn would have thought it was Alice who was confused, except this still seemed to be Lin’s expression. Was Alice somehow failing to show up?

Lin’s eyebrows lifted. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I came here today to help you. I won’t come into this building unless it’s to help you.”

Then she gasped, closing her eyes, and when they opened again it was Alice who looked through them. She looked around. “Is it time? Really?”

“It’s time,” Annie said, smiling.

Roe took out her phone and dialed, setting it to speaker so they could all hear it ring. Then a male voice on the other side said, “Hello? Roe?”

“Hi, Mr. Atkins,” Roe said. “We have someone who wants to talk to you. Will you identify yourself?”

“Yes, of course. My name is Otis Atkins. I’m named after my grandfather, who was named after his father. I have an aunt named Alice Norburn. She was named after her great-aunt, Alice Atkins, who died while she was attending Chatoyant College.”

Alice gave another gasp and began to cry. “I’m Alice Atkins.”

“I know,” Otis said. “It’s amazing to be able to speak to you. I wish my grandfather could be here to witness this.”

“Your father is my brother Otis’s son?”

“Yes. He never knew you, of course, but he grew up hearing stories of his brilliant aunt.”

Alice cried harder. “I’m not brilliant. If I was, I wouldn’t have… I would have found a way to learn the spell I needed, instead of having it blow up in my face. I would have returned to help my family.”

Dawn felt sorry for Alice in her obvious difficulty of thinking of herself as dead. It made sense—she was here and talking to them, wasn’t she? And yet, of course, if she weren’t dead, she wouldn’t be a ghost forced to possess a medium in order to communicate. From what Dawn had learned about attitudes toward death in her sociology class, she couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t feel the same way as Alice after she died. Though, of course, she hoped she wouldn’t be forced to become a ghost.

“But from what my grandfather told me, Otis was very proud of you,” Otis said. “He was so impressed that you had worked hard enough to be able to go to college, and to not even have to pay for it. He never went to college himself, but you inspired him to work hard. Do you remember where he was working when you went to college?”

“Yes, of course. He was an assistant at Nickelson’s Shoe Store.”

“Well, that store went on to be the Atkins Shoe Store.” Otis’s voice was warm.

Alice swallowed hard. “Really?”

“Yes. My great-grandfather owned that store. My grandfather turned it into a franchise—seven stores throughout the state. My father inherited the franchise and ran it well, but decided to send me to college. To the same college you attended. I learned so much here, but I never imagined that the ghost I heard about, haunting the girls’ dorm—Mary Thomas was all girls then—was actually my great-aunt.”

“So my family… they did all right without me?”

“Yes, from what I know. Otis worked hard all his life, but his children never wanted for anything. I don’t know exactly what happened with your sister Grace, but she married and had seven children, so I assume she was happy, too.”

Alice gave a watery chuckle, but her tears seemed to have stopped. “Grace always doted on children. I’m glad she got what she wanted. What about my father?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know. My grandfather never spoke about his own grandfather. But the family didn’t fall into ruin. All his descendants have happy lives.”

“Your life is happy?”

“Very much so. I retired a few years ago from my job as a lawyer. My father sold the shoe stores, and the money was divided between my three daughters. I have two grandchildren now and another on the way. Maybe if it’s a girl, I’ll ask them to name her Alice.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that,” Alice said quickly. “I’m so happy to hear you’re all doing well. It’s… it’s all I could ever ask for.”

“Would you like me to come visit you?” Otis asked. “Perhaps when the students here are on a break?”

“I… no. You don’t have to do that.” It was plain from Alice’s face that she didn’t like the idea of her great-grandnephew visiting her. Dawn agreed that it was a strange thought. If she had lived, they would have never met unless she had lived a very long time indeed. “You won’t be able to see me, after all, and I can’t ask for any more of this medium’s time.”

“Oh. Yes, that makes sense. Still, it’s good to know that you’re there.”

“Thank you so much for speaking to me, Otis,” Alice said.

“Thank you for speaking to me,” he said.

“Can I ask a question?” Corrie put in.

“Certainly,” Otis said politely.

“When you went here, you heard stories about the ghost, right? How come you never investigated?”

“I, well—“ He gave a little cough. “I did, once. A friend and I, along with our girlfriends, who were living in Mary Thomas, tried to have a little seance. But the ghost tipped over our candles. Nearly set Mary Lou’s dress aflame.”

Alice’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“No worries. I didn’t think much of it, really. I didn’t know who you were, and you obviously didn’t know who I was.”

“No, I… suppose not.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Roe spoke. “Mr. Atkins, do you have anything else to say to Alice?”

“Ah, just that she should feel free to get in touch with me at any time. You have my phone number?”

“Yes, I do. And Alice knows how to get in touch with me. Thank you.”

“Goodbye, Alice.”

“Goodbye, Otis,” Alice whispered. She covered her face with her hands for a moment, then when the hands lowered, it was Lin’s face looking out at them once more.

Chatoyant College, Chatoyant College Book 14: Ghost Stories

Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 52: Microfilm

Dawn hurried back down the stairs and waited for Eric to finish checking books out to a student, then approached him. “Hey, do you have the keys to the microfilm cabinets?”

“Yeah, of course. You need them?” He leaned forward and, though Dawn couldn’t see what he was doing, she knew he was pulling the ring of keys off their hook on the desk.

“Yes, please. Thank you.” She smiled when he put them in her hand, then went off to the cabinets.

She’d never actually opened the cabinet holding old West Ashburn Gazettes before, but she knew which it was, and when she found the right key, she started opening drawers to find the right year. Of course, the most recent were at the top, and she had to go down several drawers before finding 1910.

Once she got down there, she realized that the newspaper must have been published more frequently than monthly that long ago. There were a lot more rolls per year than she expected. She grimaced, wondering whether to start at the early end or the late end.

If the money had run out for the scholarships at some point, then earlier was more likely. And Alice had mentioned the dorm and the scholarship, but not the person, so she had likely not been at the school while Mary Thomas was alive, so 1873 was the likely earliest year.

Dawn took a deep breath and searched for 1873. There were four rolls of microfilm for that year. She took them all out of the drawer, locked the cabinet, and headed for the microfilm machine.

Her stomach was rumbling, but she tried to ignore it. She was in the middle of something, and she could eat when she was done.

She loaded the first roll and turned the wheel slowly but steadily, skimming headlines. Surely if a student had died on campus, there would be a dramatic headline.

Then again, she thought uneasily, had there been any headlines when students had died at the end of last semester? No one’s parents seemed to have heard about it, which argued that it had not made the news. Had the college deliberately suppressed it? If so, chances were good it wasn’t the first time.

Still, she’d gotten this far. She wasn’t going to give up now.

She skimmed through all of 1873, then returned the rolls and got the ones for 1874. And 1875. She was starting to feel a little sick with hunger, so she promised herself she would go get lunch after she went through 1876.

Her patience was rewarded, sort of. Her heart jumped into her throat when she saw a headline that read “Mary Thomas scholarship recipient.” She had almost turned past the whole article; she carefully reversed until she was back at the headline.

The full thing read. “Emma Ardern, first Mary Thomas scholarship recipient, graduates with honors.” Dawn was disappointed that it wasn’t about Alice, but read the article anyway.

Emma Ardern had been a West Ashburn local, which was apparently part of the reason she was given the first scholarship. She was the granddaughter of immigrants, and her family had always worked in factories, until now. The Mary Thomas scholarship had allowed her to go to college and learn “all the womanly arts that our obscure local school can provide.” Dawn smiled, imagining how Emma Ardern’s life must have been changed—as well as that of her whole family—once she had her education.

Alice must have had the same experience.

The end of the article briefly mentioned that the next Mary Thomas scholarship had been awarded to a girl from the next state to the south, but it didn’t include her name. Obviously, if she wasn’t from West Ashburn, the Gazette wasn’t nearly as interested in her.

Still, that helped Dawn narrow things down. If there had only been one Mary Thomas scholarship recipient attending the school at a time, not one per year, there could only have been a few of them—no more than ten, if the scholarship had ended before 1910, and she was sure it hadn’t been mentioned in the yearbooks.

Feeling more cheerful, if no less hungry, Dawn returned the microfilm and gave Eric back the keys. Later she would come back and look at 1877. Maybe then she would find Alice Atkins.

Chatoyant College, Chatoyant College Book 14: Ghost Stories

Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 51: Mary Thomas

Dawn walked slowly to the library, trying to plan her approach. She didn’t know where exactly to look for information on the Mary Thomas scholarship—the library just seemed like the obvious first place to start. But she’d never been able to find a book on the history of Chatoyant College itself, as useful as that would have been. If anyone had written down the college’s history in any more detail than what was in the orientation materials, the faeries had probably suppressed it.

So what about the Mary Thomas scholarship? She could check the history section. If there was anything about Mary Thomas herself, it was probably there. At the very least, finding out when Mary Thomas had lived would give them the earliest years that Alice Atkins could have lived.

If she didn’t find anything useful there, she would check the library computers. They might be able to show her articles that had information on Mary Thomas or the scholarship. All else failing, she could try searching the internet. It would be harder to filter out references to the dorm—Mary Thomas would have died long before the internet was a thing, and the dorm was still around—but it was worth a look.

Having decided, she entered the library, waved at Eric, who was at the front desk, and headed upstairs to the history section. It was a big one, but after more than a year spent shelving books all over the library, Dawn knew the sections well enough to narrow down her search. There were books about the specific area. If Mary Thomas had lived on campus, or nearby, maybe she would be mentioned in a local history.

Dawn skimmed through three books before coming across a reference to Mary Thomas. In great excitement, she flipped to the page that the index referenced. It said that she was a great philanthropist who had donated her house to her beloved college to be turned into living space for students.

Dawn frowned. That explained why the dorm looked like a house that had been chopped up into dorm rooms—but it didn’t tell her when Mary Thomas had lived, or even what her relationship was to the school. If she had been a student, then why would her house have been on campus? They couldn’t have moved it from somewhere else, could they?

She read the previous few paragraphs, but they were not illuminating. She turned back to the beginning of the chapter and read there, but couldn’t even figure out what the chapter had to do with Mary Thomas.

Finally, she flipped to the beginning of the book and found the copyright page. It had been printed in 1910. That didn’t tell them any more than they already knew—Alice must have lived earlier than that.

Disappointed, she returned the book to the shelf and looked through the next few. Finally, the last one seemed to have several pages about Mary Thomas. Dawn bit her lip, trying to control her excitement as she found the pages.

The first page had a large, though blurry, image of what was apparently Mary Thomas. The picture was in black and white, but the woman was wearing a light-colored dress, staring straight at the camera, with her hair pulled back in a bun.

Dawn read the following pages. They briefly described the life of Mary Thomas, who had been first a student, then a professor, then the president of Chatoyant College. It had been during her years as president, 1857-1872, that she had built a house on campus. This book didn’t mention her giving the house to the college, but it did say that she had left money to the college in her will to fund a scholarship.

They had the early end, then, at last. Alice Atkins must have attended the college sometime between 1872 and 1910. That was still almost forty years, though, and Dawn didn’t know how to find anything else about her.

The book didn’t mention how long the Mary Thomas scholarship had continued, nor anything about its recipients. Dawn flipped to the beginning, wondering what kind of book this was. Apparently, it was a history of prominent people in the state. She turned to the Mary Thomas pages again and read that she had been the daughter of a well-known judge and had spent her inheritance mostly attempting to fight for women’s rights. The previous pages were about her parents.

Dawn had to guess that the author of this book hadn’t been interested in the recipients of scholarships, only those who had given them. She checked the index again and skimmed through the book, but there were no other references to Chatoyant College. Most prominent people who were associated with the school—if there were any others—probably tried to hide their association, since the school wasn’t well known.

She put away the book, thinking. Where could she find out what had happened in those years? The library was organized by subject, not year.

The answer came to her quickly. Newspapers were organized by year. The college had a modest collection of local newspapers on microfilm. The West Ashburn Gazette only came out monthly, but if a student had died on campus, that would have to be newsworthy.

Chatoyant College, Chatoyant College Book 14: Ghost Stories

Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 45: The Yearbooks

Dawn waved to the guy at the front desk—she knew everyone who worked at the library this year—as she led her group of friends in to the library. He waved back, but didn’t ask what she and a whole group of friends were doing there on a Saturday night.

They trooped up to the study room on the second floor where the yearbooks were kept. Luckily midterms had just ended, so no one else was trying to use the room. Edie shut the door behind them.

Corrie stood in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips, surveying the yearbooks. “I guess we should split them up by years. With five of us, it shouldn’t take too long.”

“I don’t think they’re in order by year,” Annie said, kneeling down by one of the shelves. “They didn’t seem to be in any kind of order when I was looking through them.”

“Really?” Corrie pursed her lips and sighed. “I thought they were in order last year when I was looking through them for Vertiline Gravette, but maybe not. Or maybe the library workers just don’t do a very good job keeping them in order.” She turned and raised her eyebrows accusingly at Dawn.

Dawn couldn’t help smiling. “I can’t say that I’ve ever been told to come in here and make sure the yearbooks are in order. Maybe we can put them in order before we leave for the night.”

“Okay, I have a plan,” Roe said. She strode up to a shelf and pulled off several yearbooks at once. “Let’s get the yearbooks off shelves and each take one. When we’ve finished with the one we have, we can put it on the shelves in approximate order, and then get another. That way those of us who are faster readers“—she grinned at Edie—“can read more, and not get bored waiting for the rest of us.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dawn said. The five of them made quick work of getting the yearbooks off the shelves and piling them into stacks. Dawn took one off the top of a pile and retreated onto a beanbag to start paging through it.

She didn’t see any Alice Atkins, but she did see Professor Lal—and Derwen, a few pages later. She remembered Corrie finding both of them when she was looking for the names on the statues scattered around campus last year. That made her think. “If Alice Atkins was a Chatoyant College student,” she said, “then one of the faeries we know might have gone here at the same time as her. I don’t think the professors would like to be asked, but we could try Derwen, at least.”

“That’s a good idea,” Edie said. “I’ll ask her when I get a chance.”

“What about your aunt?” Corrie asked.

“If the ghost was already haunting Mary Thomas when she went here, then she could hardly have known Alice when she was alive.”

“Still, she could know something,” Annie said. “She might not even know she knows.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s worth talking to anyone we can think of who has gone to Chatoyant College in the past.” Dawn nodded. “I’ll ask her.”

She flipped back to the cover of her yearbook. It was from 1912; that seemed like a pretty good year to find a ghost who had evidently been haunting Chatoyant College for many years. That gave her another thought, and she looked up at her friends. “Actually, if Pru knew about the ghost, she had to be here before… I’m not actually sure what years Pru went here, but let’s say 1980 is too late. So if your yearbook is after that date, you’re definitely not going to find Alice Atkins there.”

“If Pru knew about the ghost but not about the death, Alice has to have died years before your aunt came to Chatoyant College,” Edie pointed out. She looked at the spine of her yearbook and got up to put it on the shelf. “We can probably discount everything before 1970, at least.”

Dawn nodded. “I can’t argue with that.”

“That cuts down on the pile a little,” Annie said, looking a little more cheerful. She looked at the yearbook she had. “This is 1959, so I guess there’s a chance.”

Dawn bent her head and started flipping through her yearbook. There was Professor Lal, and there, a few pages later, was Derwen. No sign of the name Alice Atkins, though there was an Alice Purcell. Some of the photos didn’t list all of the students in them, but there was no way to know whether any of those people might have been Alice Atkins.

She put her book toward the left end of the shelf and went for another one. It was 1992, so she put it at the far end of the shelf and got a third.

After some time of silence punctuated only by the swishing of pages turning, Corrie perked up. “I found an Atkins!”

“Not Alice?” Annie asked.

Corrie shook her head. “This is a guy. His name is Otis. But I wonder if he might be related to Alice.”

“That’s a thought,” Roe said. “We can ask her about Otis Atkins when we get another chance to talk to her.”

“What year is that?” Dawn asked.

“1965,” Corrie said. “So chances are good he’s still around. He’s graduating in this one, so he’d be in his sixties now, right? He’s probably still alive.”

“If we can’t talk to the ghost, we can at least try to get in touch with him,” Edie said. “The alumni association might have his information. If he is related to her, then he might know something about his relative who died here.”

Corrie nodded and jumped to her feet. “I’ll go photocopy this page.”

Annie let out a long sigh as Corrie left. Edie turned to her. “Getting frustrated?”

“I just don’t think we’re likely to find her if we haven’t found her yet,” Annie said. “Mary Thomas is a Victorian-era building. If Alice Atkins is as old as the building, I don’t think they even had yearbooks then.” She swallowed and looked up. “But I appreciate you guys helping me so much.”

“We’ll find something,” Edie said. “We’ll solve this. I promise.”

Chatoyant College, Chatoyant College Book 14: Ghost Stories

Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 38: With Time

Dawn started her last washing machine and leaned against it, watching Shannon. “How did you get it to stop?”

Shannon shook her head with a wry smile. “I have no idea. Maybe Amy or Randi apologized to the ghost or something, but if so, they never said so. It just stopped. In fact, I don’t think I heard any weird noises or had my door open or shut itself spontaneously once the rest of that year.”

“One of my friends is having issues with the ghost this year. I hoped you would have a trick.”

Continue reading “Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 38: With Time”

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Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 37: Tried

Monday, September 25

Dawn wrinkled her nose in disappointment as she hauled her laundry hamper into the laundry room in Sayer. She’d hoped that on a Monday at lunchtime there would be no one else using any of the machines and she could catch up on her sorely-neglected laundry, but someone else was already there… and she really needed clean clothes for her work shift later. In class, she could cover her ragged T-shirt with a hoodie, but shelving books for six hours was a warm job.

The other person straightened up and smiled at Dawn. “Hi!”

Continue reading “Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 37: Tried”

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Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 34: Meg

Thursday, September 21

Dawn had a headache from psionics class. She’d had a moderate amount of success in telekinesis and telepathy that had made her think that maybe she was halfway decent at psionics. But her attempts at psychometry, the psionic skill that she’d had the most interest in, were paltry and she felt rather defeated.

Professor Rook, as always, was entirely unruffled. Dawn lifted her bag onto her shoulder as the class emptied and pondered the wisdom of getting a snack—or maybe a coffee—before her sociology class in an hour.

Continue reading “Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 34: Meg”

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Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 33: Handout

Monday, September 18

Dawn walked into Ritual Magic to find Annie already in her usual seat at the back, staring into a very large coffee cup from the coffee stand in the humanities building. She sighed and walked over to sit next to Annie. “Still having trouble sleeping?”

“Mhm,” Annie said. She made a face, wrinkling her nose, and took a large sip of the coffee. “I don’t like coffee. I ordered a fancy drink with sugar and steamed milk and stuff, but now it’s too sweet.”

“Maybe just a coffee with cream and sugar next time,” Dawn suggested.

Continue reading “Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 33: Handout”

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Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 29: Seeking

Friday, September 15

Dawn sat down on her bed, looking at her two roommates. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Somebody has to do something about Annie’s sleep,” Corrie said.

Dawn grimaced. That was certainly something she could not deny. Annie had been doing okay, and her burn was healed enough now that she no longer needed the bandage all day, but if it was lack of sleep that was making her mess up in magic class—and it was the ghost that was messing with her sleep—then she definitely needed help. And the professors weren’t offering it.

Continue reading “Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 29: Seeking”

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Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 24: In Shock

Dawn wanted to ask Ginny if Annie would be okay, but if the answer wasn’t good, she didn’t want to force Ginny to say it in front of Annie—or listen to the silence. So she just bit her lip and focused on helping her friend walk. Luckily Annie was small and light, because she really didn’t seem to be able to keep herself steady. When they got to the steps, she and Ginny just lifted Annie by the arms.

They finally reached Ginny’s office, where Ginny had Dawn wait in the doorway, holding Annie up, while she pressed a button in the wall next to a bookshelf. The shelf came down to reveal a cot on its other side. Dawn wasn’t sure whether it was magic or just a very clever Murphy bed.

Without waiting to be told, Dawn helped Annie get onto the bed. Annie clutched the edges of it with apparent gratitude, taking deep breaths through her teeth.

Continue reading “Chatoyant College Book 14: Chapter 24: In Shock”