Haunted tour guide wasn’t my only title. During the day, I was the head librarian at Bilson Library. Yes, the large old Victorian Gothic style brick and stone building was haunted as well. It looked the part with its three stories looming over town. Ornamental gables and a tower in the center that pointed skyward, demanding attention.
Luckily, things at the library had been mostly calm lately. Right now, the only ghost haunting the place wasn’t a scary spirit at all. The first librarian in town had made the library her permanent home for many years. I didn’t blame her since her body was resting for eternity in front of the library.
Okay, that sounded strange, but there was a graveyard right on the front lawn of Bilson Library where Devil’s Moon dearly departed residents rested for eternity. Complete with aged gravestones in varying shades of gray. It had been there well before the library had even been built in 1884.
Having gravestones at the entrance of the library certainly added to the spooky air about the place. The structure itself was scary looking enough, but adding the boneyard certainly ramped up the spook factor. Serenity abounded during the day, but when the sun went down, the graveyard took on an entirely different feel.
My mother and I made our way down the hallway toward the bedroom. A strange energy lingered in the air like static from when walking across carpet and then touching metal. Even with the sun that streamed through the window at the top of the staircase, the upstairs was still dim and more than a bit spooky.
Although that feeling surely came with all old houses so maybe I was just allowing the setting to further my fears. Just thinking about all the people who lived here before and wondering if someone had died in the house instilled creepy thoughts.
People had asked if there was a ghost haunting this old mansion. I never knew if the stories I’d heard were true, but now I knew the answer to that was yes. The floor creaked under our feet with every step, acting the background music for this creepy real-life scene. My mother and I reached the closed bedroom door. No sound came from the other side of the door. What if Tammy wasn’t in there? What if she had taken off like the runaway bride?
I knocked. “Tammy? It’s us.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she yelled. “Get in here.”
When I opened the door, I found Tammy trying to pull the stunning white wedding gown over her head. Somehow the fabric was stuck. Maybe it was the lace. All I saw were legs and half of her arms. The white silk fabric covered her head and upper body. My mother and I rushed over to help Tammy escape from the confines of the lacy trap.
“Be careful not to rip the dress,” my mother said in a panicked voice.
I tugged on one side of the dress. “I think she’s stuck in here.”
“She can’t be stuck,” my mother said breathlessly.
I tried to wiggle the fabric down.
“What is it stuck on?” I asked.
“Oh, great. This is how I’m going to have to get married,” Tammy said. “With my underwear showing. And no one can see my face.”
“Well, maybe they won’t know it’s you,” my mother said. “It will save you from the embarrassment.”
I tried to hold back the laughter, but it bubbled to the surface. Tammy wouldn’t appreciate me laughing at this moment. What if she couldn’t get out of this predicament? I couldn’t allow her to walk down the aisle like that. Cutting the dress off her wasn’t an option either.
Chapter 2
“Maybe this sizing was totally wrong,” Tammy said, wiggling to break free.
I pulled a couple more times and Tammy wobbled a bit when I finally got the fabric down with another big yank. It had been caught on her bra strap.
Tammy released a deep breath. “That was terrifying.”
Now I could see the dress on her. Not that I hadn’t seen it before. I’d been with her when she picked it out of course. But seeing it again now was somehow different. I suppose because the melodic strums from the harp’s strings drifted up from downstairs once again after taking a short intermission. The rhinestones down the front of the v neck of her gown sparkled in the soft light of the lamp in the corner of the room.
“You look beautiful,” I said.
Tammy beamed. “Thank you. Now I just need to finish my makeup.”
“Here let me help,” I said, picking up the blush brush.
“We don’t have much time,” my mother said as she checked her delicate gold watch.
“Is everything all set up downstairs? The chairs? The flowers? What about the minister? Is he here?” Tammy rattled off questions faster than an auctioneer.
“Everything’s under control,” I said.
My mother grimaced. Thank goodness Tammy hadn’t seen her reaction. I was afraid to ask in front of Tammy why my mother had given that look. Was something wrong and I didn’t know about it? I suppose if I didn’t know then that meant it couldn't be too bad, right? Who was I kidding? A disaster could be right around the corner. I wouldn’t ask my mother right now. I’d wait until we were out of earshot from Tammy to find out.
“Look at you. You are gorgeous,” I said, instructing Tammy to look into the mirror.
“I don’t think I can breathe.” She fanned herself.
“Technically you are breathing because you’re talking,” my mother said.
As I stood behind her, I placed my hands on Tammy’s shoulders. “Listen, this is the start of your new life together. Your life with your husband. You’re going to be beyond happy.”
“You really think so?” Tammy stared at her reflection.
“Absolutely. You get to spend the rest of your life with a wonderful man. He’s going to make you happy. He will be a wonderful husband. He’ll treat you like a princess. Hasn’t he already shown that?”
Tammy smiled. “Thank you for your kind words. I feel better now.”
A strange sensation came over the room. An awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. Was I having this feeling because I didn’t want Tammy to marry Matteo Rossi? No, that couldn’t be it. I liked him and I knew Tammy was happy. At least she seemed happy. That same static energy now filled the air. Did Tammy and my mother feel that too? If they did, they weren’t letting on to it right now.
When I glanced over my shoulder, I spotted the ghost standing by the door, staring at me with a menacing look so terrifying that it sent a shiver down my spine. So that was why I felt this way. Not because of Tammy’s wedding, but because the ghost was staring at us. The ghost had been upstairs earlier only I hadn’t seen her.
With my mother fixing Tammy’s hair, I knew that they had no idea that a ghost had arrived. Only I saw the spirit. I wanted to tell her to go away. I didn’t want her ruining Tammy’s big day. What did the ghost want?
After a couple seconds, my mother shot me that squinted frown that I’d seen so many times over the years. The one that let me know she wasn’t buying what I was selling. No doubt she’d seen me staring at the door. However, she didn’t ask questions. Maybe she secretly knew. She’d always been able to read me. Much to my teenage self’s chagrin.
“Okay, I think it’s almost time we should get downstairs,” I said.
How would I get the ghost to let us out the door? My anxiety grew by the second.