Thursday, August 30, 2012

Voices in the Theater - Chapter 2

Truths & Half Truths



Four more people came into the room while Migs was talking about the “short history” of the group.
And Migs really had a way of making it sound simple, and short.
So that’s it,” he concluded. “After five terms of trying to make this an official org, we’re now having our first meeting.” He smiled that little boy smile, but his intelligent eyes made him look serious and grown up.
I knew there was more to the story Migs told. There was something he wasn’t saying. But I didn’t want to think too hard about it.
Sir Julius nodded, then turned to Aris.
Well…” Aris began, smiling, “obviously, I’m here because that’s what friends do—you support each other, no matter how crazy your friend is.” Migs looked at the floor and chuckled beside him. “So when Migs had this wild idea for creating gadgets that could capture ‘ghostly activities,’ I had to sign up as his first member.
I’m not really sure if I believe in ghosts,” Aris continued. “Haven’t seen any myself. But Migs’ theories make sense, and I like having a fun non-school project to use up the little free time I have. It reminds me of the real reason I’m taking this hellish fcourse that’s ruining my life.”
We laughed. Aris seemed like a really nice, easy-going guy.
I guess it’s my turn,” Richard began. He had a thoughtful expression on his face. One corner of his mouth was turned upwards, and his head was tilted slightly towards the ceiling. He looked like he was laughing at a secret joke, and was deciding whether or not to share it. “The truth is…” He faced the group now, the one-sided smile still on his face. “I’m here because this is exactly the kind of org my dad would never approve of.”
Aris laughed out loud, Lana giggled, and Migs chuckled. Everyone else smiled, except for Chynna. She still looked bored.
Well, that’s very self-aware of you, Richard,” said Sir Julius. Even he was smiling. “Is there any reason you like getting that kind of reaction from your father?”
Richard’s smile broadened. In one comical movement, he bared his upper teeth, ufsed them to bite on his lower lip, and simultaneously scrunched up his nose—he looked like a bunny monster. Then his smile went back to lopsided normal.
Hmm. I’m pretty sure it has to do with the fact that after college, I’m gonna be his slave for the rest of my life. So I might as well do anything I want now, right?”
Richard ruffled the hair at his nape after he said this, then adjusted in his seat as he stretched his long legs in front of him. Chynna just kept on playing with her arrow-straight hair.
Sir Julius nodded. “I understand.” His thoughtful expression made me believe he did understand.
Okay, my turn,” Lana chimed. Her voice, like her face, reminded me of pixies. She leaned slightly forward in her seat as she addressed the group. Her smile was bright and sincere. “Unlike everyone else in this ghost hunting club—”
Migs faked a cough.
“—I mean, paranormal research group,” Lana corrected herself, her smile growing wider, “I actually joined because I believe in ghosts. Well, more than ghosts, really. I mean, I believe in God. I also believe there’s a heaven, and a hell, and that angels and saints are real. So I’ve always thought that, if they’re all real, then evil spirits and demons and the devil must be real too. Same thing with ghosts.”
Her hands moved animatedly as she talked. Her words had a strange effect inside my head, like a fog was clearing up. Almost like I wanted to accept her words as the truth.
Which was crazy, of course. In fact, if she’d said any of those things out loud in my old school, she would’ve been given unflattering nicknames behind her back—there are many variations for the word crazy—and she would’ve lost all her friends and never made new ones again.
But as I looked at the faces of the people in the room, I didn’t see any hint of the reaction I expected. Some of them were nodding, and the others were looking at Lana like they believed her. Even Chynna was looking at Lana with interest.
That’s good.” Sir Julius smiled and nodded. “So far we have two members who believe that ghosts exist,” his hands gestured towards Migs and Lana, “Two members who’d like to use scientific theories to gain hard evidence about whether or not ghosts exist, and a member who’s… neutral.”
Richard chuckled as everyone glanced his way.
Sir Julius now looked directly at me.
It was my turn. And I didn’t know what to say.
Yes, I knew my reason for being here. But I didn’t know if I could tell them the truth.
I took a deep breath. “I’m here because…” I looked at the ten different faces in front of me. “Because I’m… looking for answers.”
Migs’ deep set eyes grew more serious as he seemed to study my face. Aris tilted his head. The four new people who’d come in and sat behind them now leaned forward to take a better look at me. Lana’s face was now just inches away from my cheek.
Can you explain?” It was Sir Julius who asked. His voice was comforting in the middle of all that scrutiny. His question sounded like an invitation that I could either accept or refuse, and either way it would be alright.
I looked at Sir Julius, and tried to be honest. “I’m not sure I can.”
You’ve had a strange experience before, and you want to make sense of it,” said Migs suddenly. It was both a statement and a question. His voice sounded slightly deeper when he said it, which made me look back at him. There was a slight darkening in his deep-set eyes. Suddenly, a clear single thought flashed in my mind:
He’s talking about himself.
Yes,” I answered, simply.
It was true.
Granted, it was an extremely abbreviated version of the truth, but the truth nonetheless. I was beginning to realize that Migs really had a gift for summarizing things so briefly yet accurately—whether or not he was aware of it.
Oh,” said Richard. He gave me a crooked grin. “I’d like to hear that story sometime.”
Chynna frowned.
I smiled politely. “Maybe. Sometime.”
Lana briefly squeezed my hand. Her smile was reassuring, as if she was saying, “It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything else.”
Good.” Sir Julius nodded. “That’s a very good reason for being here. Is anyone else looking for answers, like Sam?”
An older-looking guy in a white collarless uniform raised his hand from behind Aris.
Peter,” he said, introducing himself. “Peter Cartalaba.” Aris turned a few degrees sideways in his seat so he could get a better look at Peter, who was sitting directly behind him.
Peter’s slightly wavy hair was clean-cut, with a slight hint of bangs resting on his forehead. His voice was measured—cultured—and coming from his chest. “I’m actually in my second year of medical internship now. Which is why I’m late—I just came from a 24-hour shift at the hospital.” He smiled openly. “Actually, the school doesn’t really see me as a student anymore. And I really don’t have much time for extracurricular stuff like orgs.”
The girl to his right (who was also wearing a white uniform) nodded in silent agreement.
But something happened to me,” Peter continued. “Well, something happened to one of my patients. She died. But somehow we brought her back, and when she woke up she said she’d been to heaven.”
Lana gasped beside me. The smile on her face was joyful as she hung on Peter’s every word.
She’s only twenty-three. My patient. Let’s call her Tina. She’s part of this Charismatic group, so I’m not sure if that influenced her experience.
She was leaving this building after a Bible study of some sort, when she got sideswiped by a car. Dragged her almost ten feet down the street. Hit her head on the pavement, broke a few bones. Her friends quickly rushed her to E.R. She was gone for a few minutes. When she… came back, she seemed very sure about what she saw.
Tina said that after she died, she saw herself leaving her body. She said that she’d never felt so free in her life—like she was everywhere and could feel everything at once. Then she gazed down at her body, and it looked so small and worn out that she didn’t want to come back to it.
Then she saw this bright ray of light shining from the ceiling. She went up to it, and the next moment she found herself alone in a garden. But she could hear music all around, so she didn’t feel alone. In fact, the music seemed to come from inside her, vibrating through her. Tina said the music was so comforting, like it was embracing her with sound. For some reason, it made her absolutely sure that she was deeply and incredibly loved.”
The breath I didn’t know I’d been holding came out in a gasp. But no one noticed, because everyone was just as focused on Peter’s story as I was.
Music. I knew that kind of music… I’d heard it too. Once. The first time… the first time I started hearing things. Music so strong it vibrated through you. Music that enveloped you until you felt like you were being embraced.
But then, she heard a voice in the music,” Peter continued. “It was telling her to go back to her body, that it wasn’t her time yet. When Tina woke up, she was back in her hospital bed, and every part of her was in pain. She keeps telling everyone what happened, and the way she tells it, you want to believe her.”
We were all silent for a few moments.
Peter smiled. “You should see her. Her face is… different. Like she’s incredibly happy—definitely not like a young woman in a neck brace and double leg casts. Sometimes when I feel tired, I just pop into her room to say hi. I always feel a bit lighter afterwards.”
That is amazing,” Lana whispered. “I’ve got goose bumps!” She showed me her arm.
A near-death experience,” said Sir Julius, nodding. “That’s another angle we can explore here.”
Definitely,” agreed Migs.
I looked at Migs when he spoke, and at that exact same moment his eyes met mine.
His eyebrows were slightly knitted. He was asking me a question in his mind.
What happened to you, Sam?
Did he know I could hear his thoughts? I was sure he didn’t, but it bothered me anyway. I looked away.
I have a not-so-heavenly experience,” said the girl to Peter’s left.
She was big-boned, with golden brown skin and beautiful wavy hair that seemed to reach her knees as she sat. Her smile was bright, and she began her story with a flourish that assured us we would be entertained. “It happened just last term. I’m part of the drama club, and we spend a lot of time rehearsing for our plays. We usually practice in the Little Theater on the third floor of this building. You’ve all been to the Little Theater, right?”
Everyone nodded, except me.
So last term we were there, having our dress rehearsal for Avenue Q, with the puppets and everything? It was, like, two in the morning, and our show was scheduled for seven PM that night. So I was standing on the stage with my puppet—I was playing Kate…”
She now stood up, and went near the door where there was more space for her reenactment. “I’m Eartha, by the way,” she added, smiling. “Eartha Tejada.” Eartha gave us a little wave, before she continued:
So I was standing over here, and my partner Jason—he was playing Princeton—he was standing on this side. There were just the two of us onstage, and there was Chris at the piano, with the rest of the cast seated in the front row as the audience, Mark and Jethro were up in the booth, manning the lights.
Like I said, it was early in the morning, and we really wanted to finish and wrap up. I was holding my puppet with both hands like this, and I was looking at this cassette tape that my puppet, Kate, was holding. When I looked up at Jason to say my next line, I saw something move near the curtains behind him..."
One minute Eartha was speaking, with every head in the room turned to her direction.
The next second I was hearing other things, other voices, and it was like someone had taken a remote and put Eartha on mute.

Voices in the Theater - Chapter 1

Reasons



There were fewer students today.
I didn’t expect the university to be this empty. But I liked it.
There was less noise. Less whispering. Fewer stares.
Of course, it most likely had to do with the fact that it was a Saturday. And that it was only 6:54 AM.
I stepped out from under the white concrete arch, out into the open hallway that overlooked the tree-shaded main quad.
Yes. I liked it.
Not the fact that I had to wake up early to go to school on a Saturday. Especially when I don’t even have a Saturday class. But being in the university, with its open spaces and grass and trees, so early in the morning with fewer students…
It was… relaxing.
I could hear the rustling of the leaves. Feel the soft breeze and sunlight on my face. If I closed my eyes, I knew I would even hear the birds.
I breathed in the morning quiet one more time, then turned around and went back into the building’s main corridor. A few steps later, there was the sign on the wall. I followed the arrow, turned right, and made my way up the stairs.
I took a bite of the cheeseburger in my right hand. Chewed. Took a sip of coffee from the Styrofoam cup in my left. My book bag bumped dully against my right hip as I reached the second floor landing, which opened into a hallway.
The floor here was shiny. The tiles reflected the yellow rectangles of light coming from the open balcony at the other end. But despite the sunlight, the whole floor felt musty; it was more of a feeling in the air than an actual scent. A feeling of age, and history.
There was a small sign over the third door, which was slightly ajar: LS204.
As I pushed the old wooden door in, a sudden thought flashed in my mind.
There are five people here.
The door creaked softly, and by the time I’d gotten it fully open five different faces were turned my way.
Hi there,” said a guy in a white shirt and faded jeans. He was sitting on one of the chairs that had been arranged in a circle in the middle of the room. He’s the leader, I thought. There was the hint of muscles on his chest and arms, outlined under his shirt. He was slightly taller than most of the guys I’d met so far. His deep-set eyes were intelligent and analyzing; his smile reminded me of an excited little boy.
Hi.” I smiled politely. “This is the ghost hunting club, right?”
A small laugh came from the girl seated three chairs to his right. She looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure why. Slightly chinky eyes, straight hair cut into a bob that nicely framed her face. It made her look pretty and pixie-like. Even though she was wearing a black shirt, denim miniskirt, and calf-length leather boots, she still looked… sweet.
She’s in Psych, too. Block 8. Lana Chan.
The thoughts came out of nowhere.
You’re Samantha, right?” she asked me. Her smile was sincere and friendly. “The girl from the U.S.? New Jersey, right?”
Yes. Ex-pat girl, that’s me. Samantha Davidson.” I gave everyone in the room a nod, then took the seat next to the smiling girl. “You’re Lana Chan.”
A look of pure surprise mixed with her smile. “Wow. You must have a gift for remembering names.”
I shrugged.
Richard,” said the guy to Lana’s right, leaning over slightly and nonchalantly waving a hand at me. His long legs were taking up a lot of space in front of him as he sat; he had that relaxed look of someone who owned the world.
The girl next to him rested her head on Richard’s shoulder, her arrow-straight hair spilling over his sleeve and arm. She looked bored. “Chynna,” she said. “I’m not part of the group.”
Okay.”
My name’s Migs,” said the guy in the white shirt. He’d actually left his chair, and it took him only two strides to stand in front of me. He looked rather intense and formal as he extended his hand.
This made me feel slightly nervous. The boys here behaved differently from the guys back home. And sometimes it seemed like they meant different things with the same gestures. Still, I shook Migs’ hand.
He’s in Physics, Second Year. The guy in the seat next to him is his best friend.
I'm Aris,” Migs’ best friend called out to me by way of an introduction, although he remained in his seat. His smile was as friendly as Lana’s. Everything about Aris was a slightly darkened version of Migs: darker skin tone, thicker—therefore darker—eyebrows, a thick head of black hair. He was even wearing a black shirt with something written on it in silver; only his jeans were light and faded.
Hi.”
Migs returned to his seat, but was still looking at me. “We’re just waiting for our club adviser, and then we can start.”
Man, I still can’t believe you got this approved,” Richard told Migs, smiling. “How’d you get a professor to sign on as a ghost club adviser?”
It’s not a ghost club, it’s a paranormal research group. There’s a difference.”
And that difference is why I signed on.”
We all turned towards the door. This time, I actually knew the person standing there.
Good morning everyone,” said Sir Julius, my professor in General Psychology.
He moved to sit behind the teacher’s table, and looked at us one by one. Those intelligent eyes behind the glasses seemed to rest on me when he declared: “Why don’t we start by finding out why we’re here?”

Voices in the Theater - Prologue



Samantha’s room was quiet.
Too quiet, thought Grandma Marie, especially for a thirteen-year-old who’d just spent two days whining about missing her best friend’s party.
Grandma Marie put her book aside, crept up the stairs, and quietly pushed the door open.
There were three huge lumps on the bed. The lumps were too large to be mistaken for a girl, and too still to be a breathing human being. Grandma Marie pulled off the blanket, and met nothing but pillows.
Within minutes Grandma had taken the house keys, grabbed her purse, and locked the front door behind her. She knew Andy probably wouldn’t approve of her leaving the house at night. But she also knew that Andy would definitely make things worse for Samantha if he found out she’d disobeyed him and snuck out of the house. Their father-daughter relationship was already strained enough as it is. Besides, Grandma knew where Libby’s house was, and it was only a few blocks away.
The street was quiet, and the air was cool.
The faint sounds of music and laughter came from somewhere near.
Grandma Marie walked briskly along the sidewalk, as briskly as she could without straining herself. She made sure to keep her breathing normal as she walked. That’s what Andy would’ve told her.
The sound of squealing tires got her attention. She stopped and looked around to see where it was coming from.
The headlights shone right into her eyes, blinding her. Before she could even move, she felt her breath knocked out as something hard violently hit her waist, and for a brief moment she felt like she was flying.
Then she heard the crunch of her own bones as she collapsed into a heap, felt the sudden crack of her skull as it hit the pavement, and smelled the thick blood that spurted and seeped through her scalp, spilling onto the concrete within seconds.
The pain was instant, and it was horrible. She didn’t know which part of her hurt the most.
Her body started to shake, and her eyes began to dim.
Vaguely she heard the sound of car doors opening and slamming shut.
A young woman’s muffled voice was saying “Oh my God, oh my God!”
Somewhere near her, a male voice said, “We better call 911.” But his voice was shaking.
Grandma Marie tried to open her eyes, but the world was quickly growing dimmer around her.
She tried to speak, but her body was shaking too much.
Samantha,” she wanted to say. “Please take care of Samantha.”
She didn’t know if anyone heard her. She couldn’t even hear the young people’s voices anymore.
The darkness was clouding her eyes. The pain came in long explosions, inside her head, inside her chest, overpowering her.

Three blocks away, at a dining table littered with red paper cups of varying amounts of soda and beer, Samantha stood, trying to decide what to do.
She held one of the paper cups in her hand, and beside her Eric Taylor stood smiling.
Come on Sam. It’s just a sip. It’ll help you relax.” He tilted his head as he looked at her with those clear blue eyes, the irises slightly hidden by a thick fringe of blond eyelashes.
Sam smiled back, then raised her cup towards him in a toast. “Okay.”
She casually brought the cup to her lips.
Samantha,” said Grandma Marie.
Sam was so startled by her voice, she dropped her cup and spilled beer all over Eric’s pants and shoes.
Aw, shoot Sam!” Eric glared at her, and his twisted expression surprised and disturbed Samantha. She’d never seen him angry before.
On top of that she was already panicking, looking to her left and to her right. She knew there was no way she was getting out of the punishment waiting for her. But where was Grandma Marie? Was she hiding somewhere to spare her the humiliation? Or was she standing somewhere conspicuous, about to embarrass her in front of her friends and ruin her life forever?
She didn’t see her anywhere.
Samantha moved past the still-angry Eric and a few other people in the dining room. She went out the open sliding glass doors that led to the pool.
Libby was standing next to Mike at the edge of the pool. She was laughing at something Mike said, and as she threw her head back she saw Sam approaching.
Sam!”
Hey.” Sam paused in front of her, and gave Mike a brief smile. “Sorry Libby, but I gotta bail. I think my grandma’s here.”
Here? Are you sure?”
Well, I haven’t really seen her, but I heard her call me. I think she’s around, maybe outside. Maybe she doesn’t want to embarrass me.”
Let’s hope.” Libby’s mouth twisted into a slight frown. “Okay, I’ll see ya.”
Bye.”
Sam made her way around the pool area to the front of the house. Just as she was stepping onto the sidewalk, an ambulance sped by in front of her, moving towards the direction of her street.
Samantha,” Grandma Marie’s voice said.
Sam whirled around. But she was alone.
Her heart was suddenly gripped by a strange fear. She didn’t know why. She just knew something was horribly wrong.
Sam started to run.