The Ghost

One warm day I found myself strolling along a narrow winding path over hills and dales ablaze with brilliant autumn foliage. I had longed for this journey for some time and I felt the exhilaration that just being here made me feel. My destination was the Beta Phi Gamma house and I had come a long way. Tonight was a special night - it was Founder’s day and it always fell on homecoming week-end. So many times I had thought of this place and of those golden times when I was young and innocent and so sure of myself. Today, I thought back to those days in my sorority house and the girls, my “sisters” with their dewy faces and starry eyes when everything seemed possible. I couldn’t help but wonder if life turned out like they hoped. Where did their lives take them? What did they encounter on their journeys? But there they were, clustered in my mind’s eye sharply focused like a snapshot in time, always the same in a place where time stands still.

Over time, my memories seemed to always come back to this spot on the earth. The sounds of high pitched laughter and girlish squealing came back as I recalled those wonderful crazy days. I had come to State U. from my home town, a small farming community in Alabama. We were a sturdy stock, my family and I. Men worked hard in the field, women worked hard in the home. The golden rule of our days was: Good things only come with sacrifice and hard work. I was in tune with this – it was the chorus to my beating heart. I have clung to this to propel me forward when I have really felt like sliding. Back then, out of all of my brothers and sisters, I was the one designated to go out into the world. It was not a hope or a request – it was expected – like a rule sent down from God. It was like the elders had convened to decide just what to do with Ann taking into account that I had always been bookish. I had loved the world of school so much that the teachers always had to shoo me home at the end of the day. I was awkward in the kitchen, at the quilt frame, and on the tractor. So my fate was decided. And oddly enough, for the first time in my life, I felt like maybe I was really valuable as a human being and for that my wishes were coming true. I was going to college! And I was going to be a teacher! It was truly a miracle.

My mom and dad proudly sent me to this small college town to take classes at the university. In my family, this was verging on the bizarre since we did not have much money and all the girls in my family usually married right out of high school to their high school sweetheart and had babies. The cycle of life repeated. And none of the girls from my town were ever sent to college – only their brothers were. And they were contented with that. They all looked at me with puzzlement. Why on earth would I want to put off marriage for school? In my own mind, I knew why I had been given this chance. It was no secret that there were three big reasons why I was sent to college: First of all, if I couldn’t do the work of the farm, then I had to find another way to pull my share. This could be accomplished in college by getting a degree or by marrying an educated man. I would then come back home and help support the family. Secondly, I couldn’t do anything else well so no well-respected man would probably want me and thirdly, and the trump card: I would be taken away from Jack – my sweetheart and in their minds – not a well-respected man. To say that they didn’t like him was putting it mildly. He was despised by my family. Always in trouble, he was daring and arrogant and I loved him. To them, he was too old, too wild, too lazy, and too poor. When he first started coming to call, I couldn’t believe that he really liked me – he was handsome and I was plain. He was full of adventure and I was – well, bookish. He didn’t seem to care that I couldn’t bake an apple pie. He said back then, and I can still hear him in my head saying, “I like a strong woman!” Those words would come back to haunt me.

The big day arrived. My family and friends gathered at the station to give me a send off. Their faces stick in my memory so clearly. They were so hopeful - no – much more than that – expectant. Farming was hard and sometimes it barely brought in enough cash to cover. I was their hope. I suspected that I was not as good as they thought I was. It crossed my mind as they stood looking out of the train window that maybe I was a fraud and then just as quickly I made a promise - I would try to be that good – no I would BE that good! They were counting on me. Just the thought of this sent a shiver down my spine. I watched them slowly get smaller and smaller and then disappear from sight down the tracks. I was scared to death on that day but deliriously happy. Here I was, I thought– on my own, leaving my town, my home and all of those things that were safe that I loved. I was going to a new place – should I be afraid? I was determined to make it up to them for this wonderful chance. Was I up to it? And then there was the Jack issue. Already I was ignoring that little voice in my head – the one that says, beware. Maybe …… If he could just try a little harder, maybe….?

University life was a perfect fit for me. I loved school – reading books, doing projects, living in the library as long as I wanted – nobody to tell me how unhealthy this was like they did at home – going to games, staying up late. It was like being released from a cocoon– oh happy days! School started with a crack that fall as though someone had shot off a gun. I joined the throngs of students pushing through the campus. It was never strolling like I’m doing now – it was actually pushing forward. We had things to find out – and we were in a hurry in those days.

This day I felt that old buzz stir within me again – the need to hurry, hurry – it was still there after all of these years. Other travelers on this path seemed heading in the same direction. I could hear bits and pieces of their conversations as they passed me. I was startled to hear their excited chatter about something that was about to happen. I followed close behind a couple of walkers, straining to hear their words because one word carried through the air from the passerbys to me. They were talking about a ghost. My ears perked up. Had I heard right? At first, I thought I had misunderstood. The couple ahead of me, oblivious to my eavesdropping, talked excitedly about the anniversary of the ghost who would appear at midnight – and shocking to me – the ghost was supposed to appear at my old sorority house - the Beta Phi Gamma house!! They spoke of a legend that this ghost appeared every 25 years and hoards of people always arrived on this anniversary to stand outside the front entrance and watch for the apparition. The ghost had been appearing one of them said, for 100 years and in fact, tonight was the 100-year anniversary. They said they were expecting many people to arrive for the midnight appearance of this ghostly visitor. Hey, I mused to myself, I chose the “right” Founders day anniversary to make this journey. I tried to remember if we celebrated a ghost and I couldn’t remember anything like this happening in my time.

Sorority rush came that first fall and I was in it as you might have already guessed! I don’t know why I signed up, it was so unlike me. And then, I was so surprised when they took me! But it was expensive. I got a job down at the jeweler’s shop on the square so that I could pay my sorority dues and to save up for my wedding to Jack. This was my secret for now. Working while going to school bothered my parents. They couldn’t understand why I needed more money than they sent.

“Ann,” they asked, “How are you going to do your homework and still work? How are you going to go out and meet people (meaning rich college men of course).” But honestly? If my mom had known that I had to work in order to be in the sorority, she would have first been shocked that her money wasn’t enough and then she would have encouraged me to do it. I know in her heart of hearts, she loved it – my being a “sorority girl” - absolutely loved it. I can just hear her now dropping the Beta Phi Gamma nugget at church socials and neighborhood get-togethers with a sideways glance to see how the other ladies were taking this giant leap that her daughter had taken into society. And although my parents thought they were sending me a healthy allowance, it was still way below what other students got from home. I couldn’t make it without working. It was hard to make them feel good about their money and still live the life that they believed they were adequately providing for. I was always stuck in the middle trying to make them happy and having the life that I loved. And I so wanted to make it. I wanted it all – be a teacher, be the savior for my family, be a sorority girl and live for once – and marry Jack.

The girls of Beta Phi folded me into all of the secret rituals of the house. Things were so different than I was used to. For example, we had to dress up and wear girdles to meetings. I was small and didn’t need one but the proctor would stand at the gate to the meeting room and snap the girdles through the member’s clothing. If nothing snapped, you were in trouble so I wore one although it always slid down. Then there was the ritual and oaths in which one and all we chanted the words. We were sisters. Forever. I was one of “them.” One of the most important rituals was the one in which all of the sisters sat in a circle in the candlelight chanting softly. A single red rose was passed around the circle. One of the girls had a secret and when the rose came to her, she held it to her heart signifying that she was engaged. Instantly, all of the candles were blown out except the one held by the lucky girl. Then there were screeches and tears and everyone rejoiced, hugging her and placing her in the center of the circle. I remember lying under the eaves in my small room in the boarding house dreaming of the time when I could make that important announcement about me and Jack. I could see the good in him, why couldn’t my mom and dad? I was stuck in the middle. But I had made my decision. I knew what fun was now. I was riding on a magic carpet. I could have it all.

Noises jerked me back to the present. The town seemed to inhale me and here I was back in Middleberg. I found myself walking down the narrow street where my boarding house still stood. It was one of those warm autumn days when the heat is neither stifling nor cold but rather hollow – you know - empty somehow. The sounds of the day drifted over me. The combinations of the sunshine, the changing colors of foliage and the feeling of the warm air at once lulled me into a pocket of endless moments where time stands still and at the same time sharpened my senses so that every sound became acute – the pecking of the wood pecker nearby, the sound of water sprinklers on the lawns across the winding street, the brush of the newspaper as it blew by me on the breeze.

The sight of my old neighborhood brought back memories of those days of dashing back to my apartment on my bicycle after class, climbing the old wooden stairs behind the house to my small room in the attic. There it was – my boarding house – it stood silently , mums in bloom, broken stairs on the porch waiting for the current occupants to slide across the lawn in the groove carved out in the lawn by the feet of those students. The groove was still there. Tiny details of the past flooded me and I was so happy to be here in this time, in this space. I had lived in the dorm which was really just a big old house during the first semester and then because of my parents dwindling finances, I had moved into this boarding house. But I didn’t mind. My pay at the jewelry store kept the wolf away. I was proving that I could make it and have it all.

Leaving the cool canopy of trees on my street, I came into the town square and wandered into a small pub. The news stand on the corner heralded the 100ᵗʰ anniversary of the “ghost” and shop windows carried mannequins dressed up in ghostly garb with ghoulish souvenirs spread around. Outside the pub, the town was bright and busy but inside the pub, the smoky room was cool. I seated myself in a dark corner, squinting at the sunlight coming in the doorway up front. As I sat there in the corner, I listened to the customers in lively conversation talking about their own experiences or the experiences of others of seeing the ghost. The talk bounced around the room from table to table, from one to the other. At the stroke of midnight, they said, the ghost (this word was always said in a loud whisper) appeared at the Beta Phi Gamma house.

I pictured the house. There was the meeting room, the kitchen, the parlor, the conservatory, the house mother’s room – where did the ghost appear? Was this just a made-up story? And then it hit me with a jolt. I get it! This was just a sorority trick to raise money for all of their parties and socials. We Beta Phis and every other house on campus had been doing this since the first founder’s day, I would bet. There was no ghost – there never had been. I would have known about it. This is a stunt made up by a bunch of crazy girls. Well, good for them, I thought with a chuckle. Suddenly, I was excited again. I made up my mind: I would even get there early and help out, I hadn’t planned on staying after the Founder’s day dinner but I changed my mind. This time, I would stay late just to see how they pulled it off.

Mid afternoon arrived and the homecoming parade winded its way down Main street on its way to the football stadium. Game day was always exciting. At home as a child, my siblings and I usually had to work when our high school had a game, but once I had arrived here, things had been different. Here, I was a part of something. I got to be one of the crowd instead of always being an observer. The band struck a chord and suddenly I was engulfed in the crowded bleachers watching the players on the green grass play out their game of football. I looked around me for someone I knew but nobody looked familiar. Today, I was again, just an observer. Homecoming had arrived here at State in this sleepy town nestled in the rolling hills of Alabama. I had come again after all of these years to soak up this world of my youth when everything was good and new. Oh, to go back there in time. But of course I can - on the wings of my mind!

I remember the time that Jack came to the game and we stole back to my room where the roar of the crowd was blocks away. He was warm and smelled slightly of sweat. I remember looking deep into his blue eyes and thinking that if I never breathed another breath, I would be happy for eternity.

Those were the best days of my life. I remember the night that I held the rose in the circle when all the candles went out except mine. My parents had finally given in when they saw that I was determined and had given us a wedding in the church. I used my money from my job at the jewelry store to buy my own ring. But I didn’t care, Jack would make it up to me. The wedding was small but so perfect. My Beta Phi sisters were all there. They sang a chorus while Jack and I danced. I was in love and love was good….I thought. Jack and me - we went off to live our lives waving a hand at my worried parents. I tried not to feel guilty for my deception of using their money for my prized education but marrying the man that they hated anyway. It was time for me to stop being in the middle, I thought. They will see. I will pay them back and who knows? They may see how wonderful a man he really is.

At first, I didn’t mind working while he “looked” for a job. After all I was a college graduate and teaching school was a good living for a woman plus it was my dream come true. I even worked extra duty on the play ground and in the lunch room to give us the life that we wanted to live. Sometimes Jack would get a job on the rails and I wouldn’t see him for awhile. Babies came and diapers on the line. I had to give up my job, but only for awhile, I thought. I stayed home with the kids and took in ironing to make ends meet. There was nobody to watch the kids but me. And now I needed him to have a steady job – sometimes he did but most times – not. Jack never worried. He would take my face into his hands and tell me he loved me and then I knew by morning he would be gone and I would be left to try to survive. I longed to go home to mom but I knew what she would say and so I just kept quiet. And besides when he came home, life was good – sort of. The kids didn’t care that we were poor, they loved him so. I loved him still, but……this wasn’t the life I had dreamed about. I sold my wedding ring to pay the rent. I was stuck in the middle.

I knew that I should have listened to my conscience instead of my heart. Someday, someday, I’m going back to the Beta Phi Gamma house and I’m going to tell my story to my little sisters, I would think as I sat on the porch rocking my babies and watching the train go by. The passengers waved out of their windows at us on their way somewhere. Love is funny, it can trick you, I would warn. Loving someone can be a hook. Beware! Love can be brutal. It can put you in the middle and you can’t get out, I will tell them.

The game was over, State won, the queen was crowned and I threaded my way through the crowd to the Founder’s Day Dinner at the Beta Phi Gamma house. Soon, I left the lights of the stadium behind. Everything looked different to me in the dark and after a few wrong turns, I found myself on Sorority Row. I was going back! I couldn’t wait to go back to where I had belonged, where I was not been an observer but one of the group. They had accepted me exactly how I was. Those days in the house, with friends all around and the doors of the college opened to me was the beginning of me. I had a ticket to my future and all I had to do was follow the rules that I was born with: Good things only come with sacrifice and hard work. Sacrifice – that was the key. I had always thought that if I could only go back in time, I would heed those words. And I was on my way to that place this night. I was almost there. I was so happy, I thought I would burst.

But when I arrived, I was surprised to see that already the crowds were forming around the small white house waiting for the 100ᵗʰ anniversary of the ghost. What had happened to the time? Hurry, hurry. I must get inside for the starting ritual of the Founder’s Day dinner. I tried to push myself through to the front door but was turned away by a policeman who waved the crowd back. I dropped back through those who stood waiting and made my way silently around to the back of the house. The door stood ajar and the house was darkened. I slipped through the crack and into the kitchen and by the light of the moon shining through the windows I crept through the back hallway towards the front of the house.

Muffled laughter and whispering voices came from the meeting room. The opening ritual was just starting. Hurry, hurry. I knew that the girls were in the circle – I was just in time, I thought. I tried to find a robe to slip on over my coat so that I could enter the room, but in the dark, I could not see one as I dug through the robe closet in the foyer. I heard the campus clock begin to strike the hour. Just then, I heard the slightest intake of breath behind me and when I turned around, I looked straight into the eyes of the proctor as she held her candle up to her face. And then the scream started – first from deep in her throat – then from the room behind her, and as the front door blew open the screams came in waves from the crowd.

And then I knew. Once again, in my journey through the ages to that threshold of hope and promise, I had been blocked by the specter of time. One chance – that was all I would ever get. The moment of decision only comes once to a life. Beware to those souls who are not brave enough to stand up to the task. For now, in my horror, I know……that……

…..I am the ghost.