Chapter Eight

“Well, that takes care of some attachments,” Al offered.
Tess stared into the room which had once contained all of his most prized possessions. The framed photo of his family, the hand-made and lopsided clay teapot Emily had made him, the alabaster-and-onyx chess set, all gone. Everything which was important to him (and which could be fit into the back seat of a small station wagon) had been in this room, and now it was . . . where? Not here, at any rate.
“This nicely bookends a long day,” Tess said, when he had collected himself. Somehow the room looked even smaller without any furniture.
“Good for the soul,” Al replied.
“Moving all that furniture out must have made a lot of noise. Maybe someone knows who took our stuff. I’ll go ask the RA.”
“Oh. Good luck with that.”
Tess gave Al a quizzical look.
“No one’s ever talked to the RA on this floor,” Al explained. “I’ve never even met him. Some say he goes by another name when he’s not in his room, and comes and goes via the window so that no one can ask him to do anything. Others say he’s hideously scarred, and won’t let anyone see his features because he hates the screaming.”
“Great, so we’ve been here all of a month and already the guy has skip-rope rhymes made up about him? I don’t care, I’m going to ask him.”
Tess marched down the soggy dormitory corridor, his already ample frustration growing with each step. He stopped in front of the cheap plywood door of room 237, decorated with nothing but a name plate bearing the words “Residence Assistant.” Like most of the dorm doors, there was a gap between it and the floor which allowed for the easy interchange of noise within and without. Someone had made an addition to this door, though – an extra piece of plywood had been nailed to the inside to narrow the gap, and tape had been added below to prevent any light from escaping.
Tess knocked. After a moment, there was a creak from within. It could possibly have been someone hiding alone in the darkness shifting their weight as they pondered breaking their self-imposed exile. It could also have been a window sliding along its track, to allow egress to a fleeing slacker. Tess knocked again, louder. As he waited for a response, he looked up and down the hall, and saw no signs of life. Frustrated, he flung himself at the door, battering the door with both hands, and giving it a kick for good measure. Still, there was nothing from within. The RA was presumably out doing whatever the normal students were doing. His outburst left him feeling foolish, and he had hurt his left foot. He retreated to his room.
“So, who won the fight?” Al asked him when he returned to their empty room.
“Door.”
“They’re a fierce breed, and quick to anger.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m thinking I’ll sleep over at Clear’s tonight. I’ll make sure to ask if she took all our stuff.”
“Where am I going to sleep?”
“You could sleep on the floor. Or, if you think that doesn’t sound like fun, you’ll have to come up with a friend who can help you out.”

* * *

Tess was alone in the coffee shop, save for the student working the counter, who had a spread of chemistry problems open on the counter. Tess was nursing a small Earl Grey while he waited for the place to close, so that he could sleep on the overstuffed couch. Time passed. He surveyed the battered board games, and the shelf full of books that had been left behind by generations of previous students. Most of them featured muscular men holding swooning women or else shooting spies on the cover. They seemed to represent two distinct genres, and yet there were a number of visual similarities. Some of the books were quite old.
One in particular caught his eye. The ancient-looking leather cover claimed to be a history of the founding of the university. He flipped it open to a random page. He read:

“The Hall of Philosophy, John Tyler University’s first Building, Erected in March of Annus Dominem 1941 upon Pocker’s Bluff. Students and Faculty alike Studied and Slept in the Building. Food was Provided by a small Kitchen Staff, who Took daily Oxcart Trips to the neighboring Farms. This State of Arrangement Maintained until Annus Dominem 1854, when the Hall was Destroyed by Tornado, Fire and Earthquake. The Majority of the Faculty, Students, and Staff Were Sadly Sent to Their Maker in the Course of the Tragedy. At the Time, This was Blamed upon Eminent Industrialist Philip Crowley, whom the Farmfolk Accused of Making Use of the University for Unsavory Dealings and Congress in the Dark Arts.
“Such Crack-Pots and Fancy-Merchants Were Dismissed, as Finances Were Provided for the Restoration and Expansion of the Fine University!”

Tess was interrupted here by a shadow falling over the book. He looked up.
“Hi Tess,” Maya said.
“Oh, hi,” Tess replied.
“Can’t sleep? Me neither. I guess I must still be surging with adrenaline thanks to my brush with Ford.” She gave a little laugh at her own joke.
“I don’t know. Someone stole all my stuff, so I haven’t had a chance to try yet.”
“They even took your bed?” Maya asked, incredulous.
“Yeah. When Al and I got home, there was nothing left at all. It’s nice to know we have such industrious pranksters around.”
“Oh yeah. You don’t want to be the victim of a half-assed prank. For example, once my brother decided to pull the classic bucket-full-of-water-on-the-door trick on me. He only had a large metal bucket, and he decided the bucket with the water was too heavy to bother lifting up on the door, and he was too lazy to buy a smaller plastic bucket, so he just put the bucket up there. End result, I got a heavy metal bucket to the head, and had to get stitches.”
“Wow. What happened next?”
“He was grounded for about a month, and I got a Brain Candy video for my birthday.”
“And you got this story out of the bargain. I call that a decent trade.”
“Well, sure, discount my pain. Anyway, whatcha reading? Looks old.”
“It’s a history of the university. I don’t know when it was written, but it’s old enough that they’re capitalizing all the nouns and verbs.” After a pause, Tess added, “or maybe it isn’t that old, but they were just that pretentious.”
“Neat. Who would have thought there would be something like that in the coffee shop?”
“Speaking of which, why are you here if you can’t sleep? Coffee usually doesn’t help with things like that.”
“Oh, yeah, well, I thought I would get some herbal tea. They have natural teas that say things like ‘soothing, sleepy-time remedy.’ Seems worth a try. And hey, why are you here, then? If all your stuff is missing, shouldn’t you be looking for it?”
“Uh, I was gonna sleep on the couch after the coffeemaster leaves for the night,” Tess admitted.
“That’s . . . Well, that’s kinda sad. No offense.”
“No, that’s fair.”
“Sorry anyway,” she said, looking contrite. “Hey, why don’t you come hang out with me? My room has furniture and everything, and my roommate’s not coming back tonight. If we’re not sleeping, we might as well not sleep together . . . uh, I don’t mean that. No, wait, I do. Er, what did I just say?” She looked confused and little embarrassed.
“Hanging out with you sounds great,” Tess said charitably.

* * *

They walked down the cracked paths through the grounds accompanied by the sodium-orange light from sporadic path lights. The night was a cloudy one, and the moon’s presence was felt only by a slight lightening visible in one patch of sky. One of the lights buzzed and went out as they drew near, deepening the darkness. The dormitory buildings they passed were like oases of light, quickly passed. In the distance, someone was playing Rock Lobster too loudly.
A wind was coming up in fits and starts. It stirred up the bushes, and made the trees shudder. A particularly heavy gust brought an empty Budweiser can rolling by like a tacky tumbleweed. It served to remind Tess of his alcohol-fueled embarrassment at the party earlier – though perhaps not alcohol-fueled in the traditional sense. His shirt was still stained rainbow colors from the legendary Skittlebrau, and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable to be spending the midnight hours with a relatively new acquaintance while soaked in Kahlua or ambrosia or whatever and Red Dye #5.
He looked over at Maya, and she looked back. She smiled. He saw her eyes dart over to something behind him, and then he saw her mouth begin to scream.