Another Funny Thing Happened...

Oh, those college days. Who among us, the various alumni of higher learning institutions, does not have some crazy story highlighting the triumphs and terrors of that first taste of freedom mixed with responsibility? Maybe not everyone has such stories, but most do. Even so, I bet few have a story as crazy as this.

It was a Thursday, probably my favorite school day. Thursdays were great, first of all, because they were just before Friday, which was a pretty cool day in and of itself, being right before the weekend. Friday's only weakness was that, like Mondays and Wednesdays, they were likely to have the most hours of class if you were attending school full time. Tuesdays and Thursdays were great, though. Maybe one or two classes, usually electives if I had them on my schedule that semester.

Anyways, it was mid afternoon and I was taking a long detour off campus before heading back to my dorm. It was a moderate trek to the grocery store down the road, probably a half-hour each way, but it made for an invigorating stroll. The road took me by Professor Deepti's house. She was by far the best teacher in the whole university. Her house was modest, though I'm sure her salary wasn't. She lived there with her husband and her three young children, two girls and one boy.

Professor Deepti had a very generous open-door policy, even inviting students to her home for extra help. Her husband was also a professor and was just as brilliant, though in a different way. His explanations were always wordy and thorough, but his wife had a way of explaining things that was always simple and elegant. Whatever she said seemed to fool your brain into thinking it was relaxing rather than learning, so it soaked in the information until it was waterlogged with knowledge.

I hadn't visited in a while, seeing as how it had been two semesters since my last class with her, but we always greeted each other when we passed on campus. School must have just let out for the youngsters too because I saw those familiar three adorable faces bounding down the sidewalk toward the house.

"Mr. Jeff! Mr. Jeff!" they called out as they got close enough to recognize me.

"Hey, kiddos!" I yelled back cheerily.

The youngest, Anuj, got to me first and threw his arms around my legs. "Mr. Jeff, why haven't you been to visit?" he asked with a mild tone of accusation.

I laughed as the others caught up to their brother and joined the hug. They were a gregarious bunch, cute as buttons and sharp as tacks, all traits clearly inherited from their parents. I really felt bad for not coming to visit more often, but school usually kept me busy, and when it didn't, my social life did.

"I'm sorry, guys," I offered, kneeling down to be eye to eye with them. "I promise I'll come over more from now on." I really meant it.

"C'mon inside, Mr. Jeff!" Gita, the eldest, invited. "Dad will be happy to see you."

I doubted that. It's not that I thought Dr. Deepti disliked me. He just never seemed to show much emotion toward students. His passion was digital logic, and he only became animated and emotional when talking about it. The only reason he might have been happy to see me is because he would be able to shout binary and discrete math at me, rather than just at the air, which I often imagine he did when he was alone.

"I can't, guys, I'm sorry," I apologize again. "I'm expecting some guests tonight and I need to pick up a few things from the store." It was true. A couple of friends were going to come over around five and we were going to hang out for a while before going out.

"Aw!" the three kids shouted in unison.

"I'll be by soon, though, I promise."

"Ok," they said with more than a hint of disappointment.

"Really," I assured them with a grin. "Now, go do your homework!"

"Ok!" they laughed, bounding happily once again toward their house.

What a bunch of characters. I continued down the road, letting my mind wander back to Professor Deepti's class and how much fun it was. My thoughts meandered between that and all the other things going on in my life at the time. Two semesters ago didn't seem like a long time ago, and yet there were times when it seemed like an eternity. Lost in thought, I hardly noticed the rest of the walk to the end of the road.

I finally became aware of how far I'd come when the number of people on the sidewalk seemed to suddenly increase dramatically. As I turned the corner to continue on the last block before the store, I was suddenly in a crowd. People were everywhere, waiting on either side of the road like a parade was going to come pounding down the pavement at any moment. I heard no signs of a parade and wasn't aware of any holiday that usually justified a parade, so I just pressed on, walking in the bike lane to avoid pushing through the throng.

I made it to the store with no idea of what these people were hanging around for. I quickly got some drinks and chips and made my way to the register. I almost asked the cashier what was going on outside, but I figured I would figure it out sooner or later. As I stepped out of the store, I soon regretted not driving there. The drinks I bought weren't particularly heavy, but the handle on the plastic bag was cutting off the circulation in my fingers. It was rather uncomfortable.

Stoically, I shifted my grip on the bag and strode back toward the road. As I made my way through the store parking lot, I heard an odd buzzing sound approaching from the left. The crowd, which started just to my right, began to murmur. I looked left down the road.

Bicyclists. A large number of bicyclists, more than I had ever seen before or since, were speeding down the blacktop, their legs pumping as they advanced. The crowd started to cheer. It would have been cool, if only I weren't trying to get back to my dorm. I'm sure I wouldn't have had to wait very long for the bikes to pass, but I really didn't feel like navigating the crowd. Instead, I turned around and took the longer way back to the school down the next street over.

My detour didn't add that much time to the return trip, but I was bit tired by the time I got back to campus. I trudged up the few front steps to my dorm, plastic bags slung over my shoulder, and crossed the lobby to the hall that lead to my room. At least I was on the first floor.

The hall was pretty empty, which was unusual for this time of day. Usually residents had their doors open and a few people were coming and going. Most of the doors, though, were closed today and just one person was walking down the hall aside from me. She seemed to be a little older than most of the students here, but I couldn't be sure since her back was to me. I'm not sure if she came from another room, but it didn't really strike me as odd. It didn't strike me as odd, that is, until she reached the end of the hall, turned left, opened a certain door and walked in.

"What the..." I trailed off as I stared down the hall at the now closed door of the room she entered. It was mine.

I hurried down the hall, never taking my eyes off the door. When I got there, I dropped the bags and tried the knob. It was locked, just as I left it. I didn't see that the woman had used a key. It looked like she just opened the door and walked in. I fumbled through my pockets for my keys, unlocked the door and threw it open. I hurried into the room.

Empty. Everything just as I left it. I knelt down and looked under the bed. Nothing. There was only one more place to check. I ran over to the storage closet and whipped open the door. I looked around suspiciously.

Normally in a dorm room, checking out your closet wouldn't be much of an effort. In my case, I was what some of the students in my building called "lucky". I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but this building apparently underwent a major overhaul back in the 70's. It somehow worked out that there was a large shaft in one corner that went straight up to the roof of the building. The entryway to this shaft was my closet door. The dorm was only three stories, so it's not like it went all that high, but it was pretty deep from front to back, and when you were using the bottom of the shaft as your closet, it seemed fairly cavernous.

Like I said, I'm not sure how it worked out this way. We all guessed that they screwed up and had this corner that they weren't sure what to do with left over. On the upper two floors, everyone else's closet was on the other side of the room. I don't know why they didn't just put a ceiling in the space on the first floor to make it just like a big walk-in closet. I didn't complain. It was pretty cool. There was a little ledge at the back of the closet, at about the height that my ceiling would have been, that opened into some kind of duct, like for a massive AC unit. Up around the level of the third floor there was another ledge on the left wall, toward the inside of the building. The ledge couldn't have been more than a foot or two wide before it was walled off. There was also a large window against the back wall at about third-floor level that kept it pretty well lit during the day.

Normally, this was the most awesome closet ever. Right now, its size made it seem insanely dangerous. Granted, the only places to hide were the "ledge of death" and the "duct of doom", but seeing as how I just saw someone walk into my room, I had to check all the possibilities. I didn't have enough stuff in here to create any hiding places on my level, so I peered up at the ledge on the third floor. The sun hadn't set yet, and this side of the building faced west, so it was pretty bright.

As I looked at the empty recess in the wall, I suddenly felt foolish. There is no way anybody could get up there without a ladder, and it would have taken significantly longer than I had taken to run down the hall and into my room. The only other option was the duct.

At first, I only stepped back toward the front of the closet and craned my neck to try to get more perspective on it, but I could only see the wide metal tube curving downward behind my wall. I had to try to climb up there.

The shelf in my closet was off to the right, and a pole ran the length of the wall right underneath for me to hang my clothes. The back wall was pretty bare. My bike was leaning there, as well as some tennis rackets and a life size cardboard cutout of Angelina Jolie from a movie theater display. I moved the bike and jumped up, grabbing onto the ledge. It was a little slippery from all the dust up there. I pulled myself up, trying to get my foot against the side wall for leverage. Dust flew into the air and went up my nose.

Trying to hold back a sneeze, I squinted into the duct. It was dark. I looked along the ledge. There was a thick layer of dust all the way across, except for where my fingers had disturbed it. I didn't see any way somebody could have hoisted themselves into this duct without kicking up most of the dust that was there. Maybe I was just going a little crazy. Or maybe I was just tired. It could be that this woman didn't go into my room after all. Maybe she went in the door just before mine. I could have sworn...

"What the hell are you doing?"

The voice scared the living hell out of me. I lost my grip on the ledge and fell to the floor. I hit my head, but not hard. It was mostly my pride that was hurt.

"Oh my god! Are you ok?" Stephie asked, running into the closet to help me up.

Stephie was one of the friends I was expecting tonight. She was an almost-too-thin blonde girl, a little ditzy, but cute and sweet just the same. She wasn't my typical type, but I liked her anyways. I don't think she ever noticed, but she never treated me like I wasn't good enough for her either. I had just never made a move on her for some reason.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I insisted as I accepted her hand and stood, my ears burning with embarrassment.

"what were you doing up there?" she reiterated, shaking her head in confusion.

I briefly considered telling her the truth. "Ah, I don't know," I shrugged. "I was just checkin' it out."

"Oh," Stephie said. "See anything?"

"Nah."

She looked around the closet. "I never got how you could stand this place. If this was my room I would be creeped out all the time."

A chill went through me, but I played it off. "Are you kidding, this is the most awesome closet ever!"

She shook her head again. "If you say so."

We walked out of the closet and I went out to the hallway to get the bags with the soda and chips.

Stephie gave me a funny look. "Why'd you leave that stuff out there?"

"O-oh," I stuttered. "I, uh, was just tired from carrying them from the store. I walked. I put them down when I went to unlock my door," I explained. It was all technically true.

Over the course of the next hour, Stephie and I just chatted while waiting for the others to arrive. The memory of the weirdness earlier faded a bit until I was sure that had just been mistaken about which room I saw that woman walk into. Pretty soon, Wendy and Eric showed up.

"Ok, time to get this party started!" Eric bellowed as he walked in the door, handing me a bottle in a paper bag.

Eric was a trip. Very boisterous, but always funny. He had short brown hair like mine, but he was a little bit taller than me and was definitely way cockier. I pulled the bottle out of the paper bag he handed me, already knowing full well what it would be. Grey Goose. Eric drank the stuff like water. I was sure he was an alcoholic, but he always bought the good stuff and brought it to parties, so nobody complained. College is pretty messed up like that.

Wendy was Eric's girlfriend, and as usual, she was hauling the bag of ice. She was practically Stephie's exact opposite, which made it so funny that they were best friends. She was a tall redhead, very sharp. She could be a little snooty sometimes, but once you got to know her, she wasn't that bad. You could tell she was probably picked on when she was a kid for being so smart and maybe not so attractive, but I bet anyone who picked on her then would be shocked now; she was a knockout.

I went into the closet and dragged out my cooler, which was pretty small, but it served its purpose. Wendy dumped in her ice and Eric put in the drinks I had bought. Stephie was regaling them with the story of my closet wall climbing and subsequent tumble. We all had a good laugh. The minutes flew and it started to get pretty dark out. Eric and Wendy were lounging on the bed, Stephie was in my desk chair and I was leaning against the wall.

Suddenly, Stephie leaned over and peered into my still-open closet.

"What is it, Steph?" Wendy asked.

Stephie shook her head and laughed a little nervously. "I don't know. Jeff's clothes are freaking me out over there. It looked like something was standing there in bandages, but I can see now that they're just t-shirts all bunched together on the hangers. Go shut the door, will ya?" she explained, aiming the last part at me.

Wendy and Eric laughed while I walked over to close the door. Stephie was always creeped out by the closet, but this time it was rubbing off on me. I had shrugged off my earlier experience, but now I felt a little uneasy. As I reached the door, I looked around inside the closet just to make sure everything was still normal. My eyes trailed up the wall to the third story ledge.

"What the..."

Since the sun had set, it was fairly dark up there, but the lights out in the courtyard shined almost right on the nook in the wall. I could have sworn I saw an arm pull back from the ledge and into the shadows.

"What is it?" Stephie called.

I stepped to the left to try to get a better angle on the ledge. It was too dark to make out a definite shape, but it seemed like there was something lying still in the far corner, about human sized, perhaps wrapped in bandages.

"Hello?" I called, reaching for the light switch.

Before my fingers could find it, another shape popped out from the other corner of the third-floor ledge. The eerie light provided by the lamps outside illuminated the pale visage of someone or something staring down at me. Thin, wisps of white hair clung to a nearly bald head glistening with sweat. It leaned unnaturally far over the ledge to get a closer look at me, its wide eyes unblinking, its head leaning from side to side as it considered me like a predator considers its prey. It looked only vaguely human, and it looked angry.

*     *     *     *     *

I know this sounds like the beginning of a really bad horror movie. It was actually a dream I had the other night, and it scared the crap out of me. It loses something in the translation I think. I wish I could tell it in a way that would terrify you as much as it terrified me. Hope you enjoyed it either way.

Surreality

It looked like a cool ride. One of those track-guided, animatronic-filled trips through some Hollywood fantasy. We'd been riding them all day. But this one had a twist.

We had only vaguely registered the inclined walkways as the line zigzagged through the building that was the front for this amusement park adrenaline service. We oohed and aahed along in the quietly clacking conveyance as latex-covered machines lurched unnaturally at us, and carefully orchestrated explosions warmed our surprised faces. All the while we were carried subtly higher. The cart clacked ahead into darkness, and a rectangular light appeared ahead of us. This was the end of the ride. Or was it?

We squinted as our trolley came out into the sunlight. To our mild shock, we were on a track 15 stories above the park. Around us the scaffolding rose higher for purposes unknown to us, for up ahead the track was level. The view was breathtaking. We were stopped, perhaps to admire what lay below.

"What's going on?" my wife asked, a little startled.

"I don't know," I answered, "but it's cool."

She looked around appraisingly, then shook her head in what was a decidedly decided manner. "No, it isn't."

"C'mon, baby, it's just part of the ride," I told her reassuringly.

She was most assuredly not reassured. "Well, I don't like it," she said in that decided way.

"Relax," I said a little more insistently. "The ride's almost over anyway."

My wife regarded me somewhat venomously. "Why aren't we moving?" she bit.

"I told you," I said as diplomatically as I could, "it's part of the ride. Just enjoy the view."

She shook her head again, discomfort creeping into her expression. "Something's wrong. I want to get off."

"Don't be ridiculous," I said with a roll of my eyes. "We'll get off when the ride's over."

"No," she said in that snaky way, "I'm getting off now."

"What?" I asked with an incredulous snicker.

She didn't answer. As I watched in disbelief she raised the safety bar effortlessly and climbed out of her seat.

"Honey, what are you doing?!" I cried out fearfully.

Without a word, she continued to the side of the track and grabbed one of the wide metal supports on the scaffold and climbed out onto it.

"Oh my God!" I yelled, fumbling with my safety bar. It was safely stuck in place, as it should have been. I looked up in panic.

My wife was climbing down, devoid of fear, balancing precariously as she grabbed onto another support and lowered herself. She was below the level of the track now. I could no longer see her.

"Baby, don't move! Stay where you are!" I called on the verge of tears. I rattled my safety bar forcefully. There was a sudden click, and the bar rose. I leapt out of my seat. Then, I remembered where I was. I glanced around and felt a bit sick. Looking through the track below, I saw the ground, 150 stories' descent, straight down.

"Baby," I called out weakly. "Baby, please say something to me!" She still wasn't answering, but I could hear shuffling and grunting below as she lowered herself down some more. Knowing I would have no other choice, I shakily stepped onto the track and edged over to the scaffold.

I looked over the precipice. The criss-crossing pattern of the massive scaffold played cruel games with my vision and increased my vertigo exponentially. I swayed on my feet and caught myself on one of the massive supports. Closing my eyes, I shook my head to clear away the dizziness. Slowly, I opened them again and looked for my wife, my teeth clenched with determination.

There she was, continuing her trek downward. I was amazed at how much progress she had made, but it didn't do anything to calm me. Seeing I was already part if the way there, I pulled the rest of my body onto the support. My stomach felt like it was trying to stay behind. I resisted its persistent urging and pressed it and myself against the support, clutching the metal for dear life.

With my head threatening to shake loose from my neck, I looked hesitantly over the edge of the support to see how much further she had gotten. She had been climbing down diagonally, following the strangely twisting metal on its way to the ground. Currently, she was somewhere on a part of the scaffold that hung out in the open air before curving back almost directly below. She was about halfway down.

"Who the hell designed this thing?" I couldn't help but ask out of exasperation. I tried to push myself up to grab another support and begin lowering myself, but I couldn't. My hand wouldn't move away from helping to hold me up, no matter how insistently I told it to. I looked back down again.

The scaffold below was swaying. I don't mean it was swaying slightly in the breeze. I mean it was swinging from side to side in a 20 foot arc through the air as my wife shifted her weight out on the vertex of this weird bulge on the illogical jumble of steel.

I screamed, "No! Baby, please stop! Please!" My whole body shook as I began sobbing. It made the slight swaying sensation that I felt up there more pronounced. I laid my head down and squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could as tears forced their way out, gripping the support under me with all my strength. I prayed that, whatever she did, she would eventually make it down safely. At the same time I scolded myself for being too much of a coward to go after her.

A few minutes later I heard some shuffling and grunting. I don't really remember everything that happened next. I just know my wife was there. She had climbed back up for me. She knew I was terrified. I remember her guiding me back to my seat on the coaster. Once we were seated, the safety bars came down, and we started moving again. I don't know if the track descended gradually or if there was some kind of death-defying drop. Honestly, I didn't care about the ride anymore, except to get off it.

"Did you have fun?" the worker at the bottom asked cheerily, apparently oblivious to the whole fiasco.

I was speechless.

"It was very exciting," my wife said with a grin.

I continued with the speechlessness.

"Great, make sure you get a picture of it at the stand over there!" the pimply adolescent enthused.

"Oh, cool," my wife replied.

She guided me, shivering, over to the wall lined with monitors. Row after row showed empty seats at various points through the ride. They cycled through the last several stills.

"Ooh, look!" my wife squealed joyfully. "There you are."

There, on one of the monitors, was me. My face was pressed against the cold steel of one of the supports, my eyelids strained from the force of pushing them together, tears quite clearly ran down my terrified cheeks. My wife walked up to the vendor and pointed, cackling with glee.

"Who makes a roller coaster out of scaffolding anyway?" I muttered resentfully under my breath.


Man...dreams are messed up.