Two days later and I have not heard from
Agnes. She missed Professor Vulture’s
class this morning. I texted her and
asked if everything was ok. I haven’t
heard back. I stare at my computer
screen and then down at the paperback copy of Jane Eyre I am half way through
for my literature class with Professor Vulture.
I am only a few days into the semester and can tell the class is going
to kick my butt. I read the assignment
description on the paper by my computer keyboard.
Assignment: Compose a 3 page paper on one of the following
topics:
1) How does Charlotte Bronte incorproate elements of Gothic tradition into the novel?
2) Is Jane Eyre a likable protangonist? Why or why not?
I
look back at my computer screen. Starting
a paper is always the hardest part. I
sigh and lean back in my chair. Just
then my phone beeps. A text pops up on
the screen. It’s from Agnes.
“Come meet at the pit.” I am glad for an excuse to
procrastinate. I grab my purse off my
bed and then my gray North Silver Birch college sweatshirt off the back of my
desk chair and head out the door with one arm already in one arm of the
sweatshirt. I finish pulling on the
sweatshirt as I continue walking. Never
the most coordinated, I drop my purse twice and almost fall down the stairs
before I am done pulling on the sweatshirt.
The night is a bit cool. It is pretty much fact that the mid-west does
not have a fall. There is summer and
then there is winter.
As I turn the corner of one of the dorm buildings I see
flashing blue lights reflecting off the side of the building before I see the
cop cars, and ambulance, and yellow tape.
My eyes race over the chilling black word that appears repeatedly on the
yellow tape, “caution, caution, caution, caution.” An EMT pushes a stretcher
down a ramp out of the dorm building. There
is no one on the stretcher just a black bag.
I can’t pull my eyes away from the it. Someone is in there. Someone is dead. Questions race through my mind. Who? How? Why? A realization suddenly strikes
me. This dorm building is where Agnes
and Emma live. I start to feel nauseous
and start walking again. I pick up my
pace and soon I am jogging. The tall
chimney and old red brick of The Pit soon comes into view. Bells chime as I swing the door open. As soon as I step inside I am enveloped by warmth
and the sweet and spicy smells of cinnamon, nutmeg, and espresso. I tug off my sweatshirt.
“Asa,” Someone calls my name. I look around the room. It is busy tonight. All the tables are full and I barely hear my
name over the commotion but I spot Agnes sitting at a small round table in a
corner against the wall. She is waving
at me, motioning me over. I wave back
and head towards her. “Did you see
it?” She asks before I have even taken a
seat. She is leaning on the table in my
direction. Her voice is an urgent
whisper and her eyes are wide and lined in dark circles.
“I saw a few police cars by one of the dorms if that is
what you mean. There is an ambulance and
a stretcher with . . .gosh, Agnes, you look awful.”
“Yeah, haven’t slept much. And the black bag. I know.
She’s dead.” Agnes looks around the room
cautiously. “She was murdered, Asa.”
“Who?” I am feeling nauseous again. A waiter comes to our table and Agnes doesn’t
answer my question right away. I order
a medium vanilla macchiato. The waiter
disappears and I turn expectantly to Agnes.
She watches until the waiter is at the counter before she turns back to
me.
“Emma.”
“What?” I can’t believe what I am hearing.
“You
know how she went out Tuesday night and didn’t meet us for dinner? Well, she never came home but I got a text
apologizing and saying meet me for breakfast.
We were supposed to meet here and she never showed up. And then tonight
I came back to our dorm and I found her . . . dead.” Her eyes glimmer with unshed tears. “She was lying on her bed. I thought she was just resting at first. Her hands were crossed over her chest which
was weird, but Emma was kind of odd anyway so . . .” She sniffs and looks down
at her hands. I follow her gaze. She is holding something. It is a black feather. “I found this on her body.” She hands it to me. I hold it by the quick
and spin it between my thumb and fingers.
It shimmers emerald and sapphire in the light.
“Strange,” I am suddenly thinking about my encounters
with the raven in the admission’s building parking lot and then in front of my
dorm. Maybe it’s the murderer’s calling card of sorts.
“It’s shit is what it is.
Bull shit.” Agnes pulls the
sleeves of her long sleeved shirt into her hands and wipes her eyes. “It’s happened again.” She points to the feather still in my
hands. I hand it back and immediately
feel that I should wash my hands. I wipe
them on my jeans instead.
“What do you mean?”
“Emma is not the first.”
Agnes says solemnly.
“What?”
“Yeah,” Agnes takes a deep breath and leans back in her
chair. She looks cautiously about the
room before leaning in again. “First it
was Trixie Rushwell last fall. She just
disappeared. No one found her. The week before Christmas break Nancy Morgan
went missing as well and this spring Victoria White disappeared.”
“So Emma is the first body that’s been found?”
“That I know of at least. Thing is, I am not sure they
think it’s a murder.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was a suicide note . . . but it was not her
handwriting. I know her handwriting.”
“And she didn’t seem suicidal.”
“Exactly,”
“The police will figure that out, don’t you think?”
“I hope so, but I don’t know. Whether they do or not I doubt President Eldr
is going to want the school to know there could be a murderer on the loose.
He’s kind of a creep anyway.” I hadn’t
thought about that. But yes, there could
be a murderer on the loose. The waiter
comes back at that moment and sets down my coffee. My stomach is churning but I hate to waste a
perfectly good coffee so I pick up the mug and bring it to my lips. The barista has made a design in the cream on
the top of the coffee. Maybe it is
supposed to be a leaf, but all I see is a feather. I wince and choke down a sip.
- By Joy Creech excerpt from Just Ravishing
- By Joy Creech excerpt from Just Ravishing
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