Imagine a house, in a garden.
The paint is flaking and the chimney is cracked and the uncut grass is wild. But ignore all that. Look here instead, at the giant wisteria with a trunk as thick as your arm, its purple flowers dripping against the old stone wall. Look at the swing hanging from that ancient oak, those cherry trees planted in a circle around the house. One of the trees is so close to a window that in summer, when it fruits, the girl who lives here can reach out to pick the cherries.
Imagine that – picking cherries from your bedroom window.
Tess Matheson was one of the few people on campus who didn’t think that the Jessop English Library was haunted.
This wasn’t because of a lack of belief in the paranormal. Tess, who’d grown up under the watchful presence of a host of ghosts that haunted her family’s central Pennsylvania farmhouse, considered herself to have a particularly keen sixth sense. The Jessop Library never gave her any hair-raising or spine-tingling sensations beyond the regular chills from the abnormally forceful air conditioner.
Brit, Heather, and I had eaten lunch with Alison, Both girls had seemed calm, but excited to start cross-country. It would be the final step of testing and it was the perfect way to let the horses de-stress. Trix and Sunstruck loved cross-country and the course looked liked so much fun – it was a diagram I wanted to save and try sometime.
The course consisted of several hedges, a log jump, a brief trek through part of the creek, and then cantering up and down a few hills to test stamina.
I flipped through the pages and settled on…. page 184!