Haunted Savannah

Chapter Nine: Peaches and Cream

“The tea’s probably gone cold by now...but I got peach tea, and I think it would probably taste good iced too.” Cory said as he sidled past the still stunned red head and into the apartment.

He set the large paper bag of treats, and cardboard cup holder with its two large cups, on the counter, and took a look around. Her studio was small, but homey. In the kitchen to their left, she had a small round table and two chairs. On the other side of the flat, against the far wall, stood a cabinet with a tv and some well loved dvds. Centered on the fluffy white shag rug was a small sofa with a few throw pillows, a comfy looking crocheted blanket, and a low coffee table. Behind the sofa stood her easel with its tall wooden stool, and a long stick leaned against it that she used to balance her wrist on. The short cabinet beside the easel held her palette, a jar stuffed with paint brushes, and various tubes of paint. She’d put up a few pieces of art - mostly cross stitches that her grandmother had given her and framed programs from art events she’d attended.

Savannah was glad that her rumpled, child-size bed and pile of unwashed laundry was around the other side of the half wall and out of view. She shut the door, and edged a bit toward her sleeping area now, realizing that she was wearing a long night shirt with nothing but panties under it.

“Uhm...I’m going to get dressed.” Savannah muttered, tugging the bottom of her night shirt down a bit.

“Sure. Take your time. Do you want your tea iced?” Cory asked, moving toward her refrigerator, which had a small freezer on top. If he had noticed her half undressed state, he was good enough to pretend that he hadn’t.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Savannah said, scooting quickly around to the other side of the wall. 

She ignored the bed, turning her attention instead to the pile of dirty clothes, which she shoved quickly into the hamper in the corner of her closet. She scrambled a bit trying to find a clean shirt and pair of jeans to throw on, and settled for digging out a pair of jeans that didn’t look like they had too much paint on them, and an off the shoulder sweater that might seem in season despite how hot it had been recently. She rounded the corner of the half wall as she pulled her long red hair into a low, messy bun. 

“I’m really sorry about this, Cory. I swear, I didn’t forget.” Savannah said, her voice still a little raw with sleep. “I just had a really hard time falling asleep last night.”

“I kinda figured you were having a hard time waking up when you didn’t answer the phone.” Cory replied, setting a glass of iced peach milk tea on the table. “Don’t worry about it. Well, don’t worry about it as long as you’re awake enough to go over the route with me, anyway.”

“I should be the one telling you not to worry.” Savannah said with a smile, going to one of her cabinets to grab a pair of plates. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. It’s not as hard as it looks, and I’ve got some cheat sheets that will make it easier.”

“How very studious of you.” Cory said, taking a seat at the table. 

The lanky young man set about unpacking the various cardboard containers of treats, and doling them onto the plates, which whirred slightly on the table as Savannah plopped them unsteadily down before they settled into place with faint clicks. They were plain white with a ring of blue, and matched the cloth napkins that she withdrew from a drawer and set beside each plate, along with dainty floral patterned silverware. Savannah smiled warmly as Cory, whose face normally wore a rather dour countenance, softened as he ran his fingers over the delicately carved end of his spoon.

He wasn’t quite the same as she remembered, but she supposed that two years was plenty of time for a person to change. He was tall, but not remarkably so, hovering right around six feet, and though she thought of him as lanky she could see definition in his build that hadn’t been there when they were high schoolers. He still wore glasses, thick framed and black, of course, but with a blue tint to the inside and a little skull and crossbones on the right side of the frame. Gone were the chains and chipped nailpolish, though the rings remained.

“I don’t break out the good stuff often,” Savannah commented, a touch of sarcasm coloring her voice. “But what’s afternoon tea without a bit of pretentious pomp.”

As he turned to set the now empty bag on the kitchen counter, she noted that while jeans hugged him in just the right way, they didn’t look uncomfortably tight. Savannah found her gaze drawn to his rump as he shifted his hips; she was fairly sure he hadn’t had a badonkadonk like that before, and now that she’d noticed she had to bite her lip and force herself to turn away before she started gawking openly. She managed to fight down the blush before he turned back toward her.

Cory looked at her for a moment, and returned her mildly sarcastic comment with a wry smile. “You’re a bit snappier than I remember.”

“Not like you had a lot to remember me by, exactly.” Savannah said, settling into her chair. She might have known Cory since they were very young, but she had always very much been Shane’s friend. He was almost possessive of her in that respect.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Cory said, taking the seat across from her. 

“What would you say then?” Savannah asked, popping an orange cream macaron into her mouth, biting into it with a satisfying crunch. 

“I’d say that you’re hard to forget.” Cory said, letting a little warmth into his tone, though he didn’t fix his gaze on her - instead staring down into his milky tea.

Savannah nearly choked on the macaron that she had been in the process of swallowing, and drank down some peach tea to help ease the sweet pastry down her throat. 

She coughed lightly into her napkin a few times, then said, “Why don’t we get started on that route? Tell me what you remember first, and we’ll go from there.”

She wanted to be annoyed that he’d flirted after telling her he wasn’t going to. But, she wasn’t really sure he had been flirting, and when Cory immediately delved into his recollection of the tour route without the slightest hesitation, she felt the irritation slip away. Being plied with delectable treats also helped.

She gave him a few corrections and tips as they ate their way through melt in your mouth raspberry chocolate truffles, divine bacon jam and fried sage finger sandwiches with carmelized onions, and fresh fruit that Savannah dipped into a little container of espresso whipped cream.

“Marshall House wasn’t originally a house - but intentionally built as a hotel, and was considered Mary Marshall’s crowning achievement at the time that it was completed in 1851. During the civil war, Marshall house served as a Union hospital, and was put to purpose again during the yellow fever epidemics.” Cory recounted. His voice not particularly lively, though Savannah could tell he was trying. 

She closed her eyes as she slipped the last of cream coated peach slice into her mouth, picturing in her mind’s eye the long brick building with its kelly green shutters and balcony with its curling wrought iron filigree details. She’d been inside a few times, and had even seen the room that used to serve as the hospital’s surgery, but had never sensed any otherworldly presences.

“In the late nineties, human remains were found under the floorboards of the room that had once been used as the surgery. Many people who have stayed in the Marshall House Hotel have reported hearing the cries of the wounded, and even reported seeing the sick, limping and limbless shamble down the hallways at twilight…” Cory’s voice trailed off as Savannah licked her fingers clean, sucking a bit on her pointer finger before opening her eyes.

When she looked up, she saw that Cory was staring at her with a hungry look, even though she was pretty sure he’d eaten his fill. 

She tilted her head, not quite picking up on the reason for the half-lidded heat in his usually cool blue eyes, and said, “That was pretty good.”

“I thought…” Cory said, smirking at her naivety, “...you didn’t want to flirt?” 

“Flirt...how…?” Savannah blinked, tilting her head the other way. She followed his gaze to her fingers, which were still slightly damp, and flushed when she realized how it must have looked when she was slowly lapping the cream from her fingers. “Oh-”

The doorbell rang then, an oddly strangled twang to the end of its chime, and Savannah scrambled from her chair to answer it.

“Saved by the bell.” Cory said, chuckling lightly as Savannah peered out the cracked door.

There was no one there, again. What was this? The third, fourth time? A shiver slid down her spine as she opened the door further and looked back and forth, just to make sure. No, there was definitely nobody there. At least Cory had heard the bell too, so she wasn’t just...hearing things. 

Still, it was weird, and it only started happening after Cory arrived. The fleeting thought ran through her head that maybe there was a reason this was happening now, and that reason was...Shane. Savannah stiffened at the thought, immediately pushing it away as she shut the door.

She didn’t believe in ghosts; she was not a superstitious person. But, she didn’t not believe, exactly. Can you be entirely devoid of belief as a ghost guide? 

Savannah shook her head a bit, unable to keep the worried expression from her face as she said, “That’s been happening more and more. I’ll have to get the landlord to take a look at it.”

“Wasn’t it just a ding dong ditcher?” Cory asked, sipping at the dregs of his tea, which was down to just the bits of half melted ice.

“No, I don’t think so…” Savannah said, before straightening up as she collected herself. “Oh, let me get you my cheat sheets. Hold on.”

Savannah rounded the half wall, scooting her desk chair aside as she knelt down to get at the shelves under it. On one of the shelves was a stack of notebooks in different colors, and a selection of binders that stood vertically. She grabbed the binder that held the ‘scripts’ she’d made for herself when she first became a ghost guide, plus notes that detailed frequently asked questions and bits of interesting information that she’d picked up on along the way.

“I know the route by rote now, so feel free to hold on to this as long as you need. Or, make copies.” Savannah said as she came back into the living space proper.

Cory had stood up and moved to the easel, where he was studying her current still life project. She wasn’t sure if she was done with it yet, and was giving it a little space so that she could approach it with fresh eyes. 

“You’re good. Much better than before, I think.” Cory said, looking from the little display to her canvas. 

“Thanks,” Savannah replied as she proffered the binder. “Still lifes are all right, but I think I prefer landscapes. I’ve been experimenting with digital landscapes… infinite canvas and all.”

“Really?” Cory said, his eyes lighting up a bit at this. He took the binder, but was focused on her as he asked, “I’d love to take a look.”

“Sure,” Savannah said, picking up on his excitement and motioning him over to her desk. “You might want to pull a chair over here. My desk has a low clearance and all.”

Cory nodded, and picked up one of the dinette chairs. As she settled into her wheeled computer chair and slid herself forward, he set the chair down beside her, and ducked under the bed to join her. There was just enough clearance for him to sit up; if he’d been any taller his head would have been brushing the metal bars above. But, he didn’t seem bothered by the confined space.

Savannah flicked on her two screens, and opened up two of her most recent works, displaying one on each screen.

Cory grinned, and she thought he was going to make a joke about her fluorescent color choices, or selection of adorable fantasy creatures, but instead he said “These are great. You said you were fiddling with infinite canvas, right? Do these scroll?”

“Yeah, like this…” Savannah said, her heart swelling with pride as she scrolled through the scene on her first screen, which depicted a forest clearing that turned into a deep, dark forest before easing into a moonlight field the further right she scrolled. The latter part was as yet unfinished, but the beginnings of the composition showed promise.

“I know you’re an art history major...but have you ever considered doing matte paintings? Like for movies, or games…” Cory asked, leaning forward to examine the details she had only just started filling in of the moonlit field.

“Matte paintings? Are those like backgrounds or something?” Savannah asked.

“Yeah! Exactly.” Cory said, his smile widening. “Side scroller games use matte paintings like this, that the player scrolls through as their character moves forward.”

Savannah nodded; she wasn’t a gamer, but wasn’t a luddite either. She understood the concept well enough, having played a few games with Shane when they were growing up.

“I like doing these, so maybe?” Savannah said, shrugging a bit. “I’m not sure I’d want to do them as a career, but maybe freelance…”

“I will pay you to do matte paintings for my final project this semester.” Cory said, his eyes alight with a passion she’d never seen in him before. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Savannah said automatically, “You’re my friend. You don’t have to pay me.”

Savannah hadn’t really meant to say they were friends, because she wasn’t sure that they were, but it felt like the right thing to say. She didn’t regret it until she looked up and saw the look of disappointment that flashed across Cory’s face. She had the feeling he wasn’t disappointed about not having to pay her.

“Ok, if you’re sure.” he said, some of the shine fading from his eyes as his voice had returned to its usual calm.  The earlier excitement hadn’t left him entirely, though. His lips tilted up at one end, forming his lopsided smile as he continued, “I know I haven’t been through finals here yet, but I heard it’s grueling.”

“The stories don’t do it justice.” Savannah said. “Trust me, you’re going to need all the help you can get.”