Ghost Wanted (5 page)

“Haven't you ever appeared?” I was stunned. Half the pleasure of beautiful clothes is admiring them, and I felt sure that Lorraine had always enjoyed the finest apparel. “Oh my dear. You can appear. Picture yourself in your favorite dress.”

“Picture myself . . .”

Colors moved and flowed, coalescing into a slender blonde in a padded-shoulder knee-length silk dress with a pattern of ivy against cream. A single strand of pearls graced her slender neck. Tall heels sported an ankle strap. She stood beside the four-poster bed, her lips curving in delight.

If she walked down a street in Adelaide, she would look as distant in time as a flapper in a dropped-waist layered dress.

Lorraine turned and looked into the mirror. Her eyes widened.

I moved to stand beside her. I felt at a disadvantage in a pink flannel nightgown. In an instant, I nodded in approval at my reflection in an A-line dress and sandals. The vibrant shade of aquamarine blue was just right for my complexion, freckles and all.

One thin blonde brow rose as Lorraine saw my image and noted the mid-thigh skirt length.

“Skirts are very short these days.” I hoped I didn't sound defensive.

“Oh, I know.” She hastened to be agreeable. “Though I have to confess I don't find today's styles appealing. Many women on the staff wear slacks. That was acceptable during the war, when women worked night and day in factories, but now everyone could wear skirts if they wished. As for coeds today . . .” A delicate shudder. She turned toward me, her blue eyes troubled and uncertain. “Why are you here?” There was the slightest emphasis on the noun and I thought I heard a tremor in her voice.

I tried for an appealing smile. “I wanted a place where I could read”—I picked up the slim stack of
Bugle
s—“without being disturbed. I didn't know you were here.”

“Where else would I go?” Her lovely voice was mournful.

I said gently, “When your work on earth is done . . .”

Her eyes, an arresting shade of blue tempered by gray, brimmed with tears. “I blamed myself.”

I scarcely heard the soft words, freighted with sorrow.

“If I hadn't written him . . . I knew he'd understand . . . but I couldn't forgive myself when . . .” She bowed her head, pressed slender hands against her face. Finally, her hands dropped and she walked away from me, her shoulders tight. She stopped near an elegant cloisonné screen, orange and red and green and gold gemstones gleaming in an intricate pattern on porcelain against ornately carved wood.

I followed her. I didn't know why she grieved, what memories caused her anguish, held her to earth. Perhaps I could make her feel better, lift her sorrow. “Wiggins thinks you are wonderful, and he's dreadfully upset that someone is vandalizing the library and hiding behind your legend. I'm here to clear your name. I'll find out who's causing problems at the library. I won't bother you.” I had a sudden sense that she felt hounded, and that was my fault. Everyone must have a private place, whether on earth or in Heaven. I'd come to Rose Bower hoping to learn more about Lorraine, but I hadn't intended to intrude where she felt safe.

She turned and gazed at me, her lovely face vulnerable. “He wants to help me?”

“Wiggins wants you to be happy. I promise.” I held out my hand. “Friends?”

A slender hand gripped mine, the touch cool and gentle. “Of course I will be your friend. How like Paul to wish the best for me even though I broke his heart. But I can't bear remembering. . . . I've tried so hard not to bring back those days, but now it seems as though it were yesterday and my world turned dark and gray and empty.” She withdrew her hand.

Colors dissolved. Lorraine was no longer visible.

“I'll leave.” I knew as I spoke that she was no longer here. The room had an empty feel. Yet, just in case, I said quickly, “I won't bother you again.” I had no sense she was there to hear me. I had so many questions I wanted to ask. How had she known Wiggins? What made her cry in remembering him? Why did she feel guilty? Why had she remained on earth all these years? And for now, what had happened at the library? Why was she considered the cause of these events? But clearly she didn't want to deal with me about either the past or the present.

Perhaps someday I might learn about Lorraine and Wiggins. For now, I must discover what had occurred at the library, see if I could restore luster to her memory. “I came looking for a place to stay. I'll go now.”

I disappeared and once again had to deal with the
Bugle
s. I opened the door cautiously. I stepped into the empty hall, closed the door softly behind me. The
Bugle
s, of course, appeared to float serenely through the air. At the far end of the hall, I saw a nameplate:
Sanctuary
. I took that as an omen, placed the
Bugle
s on the floor, moved inside, made certain no guest was in residence, opened the door, and picked up the papers.

The beautifully appointed room might have been waiting for me. Perhaps it was. I was delighted by a four-poster with floral flounces and curtains at each corner that matched the drapes at the front windows. Violets and ivy, a lovely combination. I admired the lace spread and patted a downy pillow. I took the precaution of wedging a straight chair beneath the doorknob. Anyone trying to enter would alert me in time to remove evidence of my presence. I returned to my pink flannel gown and snuggled into the four-poster with the
Bugle
s.

The
Bugle
, Page 3, Monday, October 14

History Senior Excited by Hands-On Project

Bugle
editor Joe Cooper

Chair of the History Department Dr. Malcolm Gordon announced Friday that Tulsa senior Michelle Hoyt will be the first student to base a senior paper on private journals.

Dr. Gordon hopes Hoyt will blaze a trail for future Goddard history majors in writing a paper based on original research of previously unexamined material.

In an interview Friday, Hoyt explained she will write a history illuminating the political impact of the late Susannah Fairlee, a leading Adelaide citizen, based on Fairlee's diaries. Hoyt begins work on Friday.

“My overall objective is a complete exploration of the diaries,” Hoyt said. “Mrs. Fairlee retired from the city council two years ago. She began keeping diaries when she was first elected to the council twenty-seven years ago. The diaries that cover her twenty-five years on the city council should provide insight into Adelaide history including bond issues, school expansion, and park development. I intend to scan the last two years, extract any meaningful political observations, and return those two volumes to her daughter, Janet Fairlee Hastings, who wants to keep them as mementos of her mother. I will then concentrate on the diaries that recount her activities on the council. The library will be the repository of the diaries that cover the twenty-five years of her government service.”

The diaries were donated by Mrs. Hastings to Goddard Library. Hoyt's study is a cooperative effort between the library and the History Department.

Fairlee passed away September 17 at the age of seventy-three. She was a member of the city council for twenty-five years. Her civic accomplishments include serving as president of the Adelaide Friends of the Library, chairman of the United Way, and on the boards of the Girl Scouts, Habitat for Humanity, and the Adelaide Food Bank. She was active at St. Mildred's Episcopal Church as a Stephen Minister, part of an outreach program by lay persons to individuals who are ill or in trouble, and was a past directress of the Altar Guild.

In the senior paper, Hoyt intends to provide an overview of Adelaide history during Fairlee's lifetime that reflects Fairlee's influence upon Adelaide. Current city council member Ralph Linton said about Fairlee: “Susannah never hesitated to take action when she saw a problem. She established the food bank and often drove to groceries and restaurants seeking leftover foods.”

Dr. Gordon described Mrs. Fairlee as a “larger than life” personality and believes that her diaries can provide insight into the power of a single citizen to affect policy.

Hoyt's long-range career aspirations include obtaining a master's degree in history and teaching while writing popular histories. Hoyt said, “David McCullough is my inspiration. Someday I want to write books that bring history alive as he has. This paper will give me a wonderful opportunity both as a historian and as a writer.”

Dr. Gordon praised Hoyt's undergraduate work. “She is meticulous, insightful; the kind of student who makes teaching a joy. I foresee a wonderful future for her.”

When not reading history, Hoyt relaxes by running 10Ks, reading Charlaine Harris and Harlan Coben, and piecing together intricate puzzles. Partially completed now is a puzzle of the Norman Rockwell March 1, 1941,
Saturday Evening Post
cover of a teenage girl in a sweater set, plaid skirt, bobby socks, and scuffed saddle oxfords. Hoyt said, “Norman Rockwell covers are snapshots in time, and that's how alive and real all history should be.”

It didn't take great perception to perceive that
Bugle
Editor Joe Cooper would gladly share a library carrel—or any space—with Michelle Hoyt, preferably after hours. The accompanying photograph suggested why. Michelle was seated at a library table, her hand resting on a stack of red leather diaries. She wasn't conventionally pretty. There was too much character and force in her oval face. Bright dark eyes looked smart and challenging under a tangle of dark curls, but a surprisingly sweet smile suggested good humor and kindness. She didn't look like the kind of girl to stand up a guy with no word.

Now why . . . ? Oh, yes. Joe's lament as he tried to make sense of his night. Maybe she wasn't as nice as she looked. But I shouldn't waste time worrying about the love life of the
Bugle
's unhappy editor. Obviously this feel-good story had nothing to do with the dark deeds that prompted Wiggins to send me here.

I picked up the Tuesday, October 15,
Bugle
.

Is Unidentified Cupid Visiting Library?

Bugle
editor Joe Cooper

Goddard Library staff and patrons this morning reported the unexplained appearance of single long-stem red roses on desks, in carrels, and among shelves.

Theories to account for the flowers range from a flower-shop promotion to student humor to an old campus legend about Lorraine Marlow, whose portrait hangs on the main landing at the library. The unexpected gift of roses to dating couples has long been attributed to Marlow, who is known as the library's resident ghost.

Annabelle Bailey, Tishomingo senior, found a rose in her carrel. “I was here when the library opened at seven and went straight to my carrel. I wanted to finish a paper due for my nine o'clock. This gorgeous rose, a cream bloom tipped with red, was resting right on top of my stuff. I thought”—Bailey looked regretful—“it was a present from my boyfriend, but when I called him, he said it wasn't from him, and then he got a little worried that some other guy was sending me flowers.”

Research Librarian Reginald Vickers reached his office at eight and found several librarians near his desk. “They wanted to know if Thea—that's my wife—had sent me an early Valentine. I checked with Thea and she didn't know anything about the rose. She said”—Vickers said wryly—“if anybody was sending me a single red rose, she wanted to know the details, pronto. After roses were found all over the library, I called her back to reassure her that I didn't have a secret admirer. My guess is that it's a dare of some sort.”

(In the interest of full disclosure, a red rose was found this morning on the editor's desk at the
Bugle
.)

Goddard Public Information Director Edward Morgan said apparently only the library and
Bugle
editor's office reported roses. Morgan declined to speculate on the agency behind their distribution or the motivation for the apparent prank. “Roses cause no harm, but Campus Security is concerned that someone apparently gained entry to the library after hours. Anyone with information about the roses is asked to contact the Campus Security office.”

Security Officer Ben Douglas insisted every entrance to the library was locked when he made his rounds at eleven p.m. Monday. “Nothing was open and there was no break-in. Staff entrances are opened by electronic keypads. Some of the service entrances require a key. Whoever got in either had a key or knew the code for keypad entrances.”

The
Bugle
asked the office of Library Director Kathleen Garza if any staff members used keypad locks to enter the library after hours this week. As of press time, the director's office had not responded.

A telephone survey of local florists revealed no promotional efforts. Jane Nottingham of Roses Are Red Florists said, “Our going rate for a dozen premium red roses is $87.95. I understand they found about two dozen roses, so someone must have a big crush on library staff.”

A more ethereal explanation was offered by Security Officer Douglas. Douglas pointed to a portrait of Lorraine Marlow that hangs on the landing of the main staircase at Goddard Library. “Mrs. Marlow was the wife of a wealthy Adelaide banker, Charles Marlow. Her rose garden was famous, and she loved to share her flowers. Their estate included a greenhouse, and roses were available year round, which was very unusual in the 1930s and '40s. In the early days of World War II, she was a volunteer at the Adelaide USO, which welcomed soldiers stationed at a nearby Army post. She soon became known to soldiers as the Rose Lady, and she encouraged young men to send pressed petals to a girl back home. Although she and Mr. Marlow had no children, Mrs. Marlow loved young people and, as a regent of Goddard College, every year hosted a Valentine dance for Goddard students at their home. During the war years, she often shared single roses with young men at the college, urging them to look in their hearts and leave a rose where the girl of their dreams would find it.”

Douglas said Mrs. Marlow died a few years after the war in a car accident. According to Douglas, single long-stem roses began to appear on campus not long after her death, often leading to unexpected romances.

When asked how a rose without a salutation or message could connect a couple, Douglas said, “Sometimes the appearance of a rose led a man—or young woman—to seek out someone they'd noticed but felt shy about approaching. Often both a young man and woman received a rose. Mrs. Marlow's been gone more than a half century, but roses still find their way at Goddard.”

Morgan smiled pleasantly when asked about the legend of the Rose Lady. “It's a pretty tale and well-known to all of our students. Enterprising young men don't hesitate to take advantage of a romantic illusion. I feel quite sure we have no supernatural visitors at Goddard.”

“Oh, yeah?” I might have to make Director Morgan's acquaintance. I waited a moment to see whether Wiggins might be about to chastise me. “I know. Precept Five. But he sounds like a pompous ass.”

There was no rumble, avuncular or otherwise.

I picked up the
Bugle
dated Wednesday, October 16.

Latest Library Prank Worries Authorities

Bugle
editor Joe Cooper

A maintenance worker this morning discovered shattered remnants of a gargoyle near the front steps of Goddard Library. Library Director Kathleen Garza said the gargoyle had been chipped loose from its pedestal on the third floor and pushed from its perch. A single red long-stem rose was found on the ledge.

Garza expressed concern at the vandalism. The director said, “The incident apparently occurred sometime after eleven p.m. Security Officer Douglas said there was no debris when he passed the site at shortly after eleven. In light of the roses found strewn about the library Tuesday morning, it appears the incidents may be connected.”

Garza declined to speculate about the motivation behind the appearance of roses, now coupled with vandalism. She was emphatic that the college considers student safety its first priority and the destruction of the gargoyle was a serious offense because there could have been an injury had anyone been passing by when the gargoyle plummeted to earth.

Students buzzed about the second unexplained occurrence on campus within the space of two days. John Helton, a junior from Sulphur, quipped that the Rose Lady might be warning guys to “do the right thing.” Then he grinned. “Afraid she doesn't realize it's all on Facebook now. Who bothers with roses?”

Campus Security Chief Robert Silas said patrols will be increased.

Wiggins's concern about nefarious events at the library seemed a little overblown. How likely was the falling gargoyle to bean anyone at a late hour of the night? However, I understood the library director's uneasiness. Who had unhindered access to the library, and why was this occurring?

I picked up the last newspaper—Thursday, October 17.

Roses Are Red, Who Stole the Book and Fled?

Bugle
editor Joe Cooper

A grim-faced Kathleen Garza, director of Goddard Library, this morning confirmed the theft overnight of a rare edition of a Lewis and Clark journal. This particular journal, an early reprint of Codex O, was on loan from the American Philosophical Society. Garza said the edition was of interest to students because the original journal was handwritten by Meriwether Lewis.

The leather-bound book was displayed in a glass case in the third-floor reading room adjacent to the rare-books collection. Garza said Archivist Ezra Benson discovered the theft shortly after seven this morning.

Benson said, “I passed the case and saw a rose lying next to a round hole in the top of the case. I looked and realized the journal was gone.”

Campus Security Chief Robert Silas contacted Adelaide police. Detective Don Smith said a glass cutter was apparently used. There was no evidence of a break-in at the library.

The library director declined to suggest a value for the missing book, saying only that it was irreplaceable. A search of online sites suggested the book might be worth approximately $120,000.

Once again students and staff found single long-stem roses in various areas of the library.

Director Garza dismissed the roses as inconsequential. “A serious theft has occurred, as well as vandalism. These are not supernatural deeds. If roses were left by the vandal, it was obviously an attempt to disguise what is happening. The library board has authorized a ten thousand dollar reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the thief and vandal.”

The appearance of the roses initially revived a quaint tale of Goddard's most famous ghost, Lorraine Marlow. After her death in 1948, her widower, Charles Hiram Marlow, contributed generously to the library in her memory. Their estate, known as Rose Bower, was left by Marlow to Goddard College. The main house, a Tudor revival built in 1927, is used by the college to house distinguished guests, and every year the third-floor ballroom is the site of the annual Goddard Valentine dance.

According to the
History of Goddard College
by the late professor Everett Castle, lovers since the late 1940s have brought tales of hope or woe to Lorraine Marlow's attention. Her portrait hangs on the main landing of the library. Castle wrote that it was common to see young men and women standing beneath the portrait, earnestly sharing their dreams. Castle wrote that young lovers believed Mrs. Marlow led them together by the strategic placement of single long-stem roses on the pillows of particular coeds and male students or in their study areas. The story was well enough known that the arrival of a rose always occasioned enough comment that the identity of the coeds and male students were soon known. Over the years, more often than not, the rose-linked couples soon wed.