Meredith sat her pen next to her journal, looking up from the well-worn book that whispered the depths of her life’s work and study, the first entry from the shaky hand of a six year old girl as she scribed the static like ether into the pages of her own history. She blinked slowly, her mind working hard to regurgitate the details of their latest assignment.
IPSUM had become her life, along with Ray and being the best at what she did was paramount. People were lurking around every corner to ridicule and demean her and her team. It was her calling to ensure that the results they gathered were clear, precise and documented in script, audio and visual mediums in order to support the paradigm shifting evidence that something paranormal existed.
She turned in her chair and looked over at Ray, who was still sleeping in their bed, a chuckle whispering from her pink lips at how precious he was to her. She stood and walked toward him, sitting down beside his relaxed form and touching his back softly, rubbing in circles to try and bring him to life. She leaned over and placed a soft kiss below his ear and whispered for him to get up or they’d be late. He stirred a bit as she kissed the side of his forehead again and stood, walking toward her bag. She checked to make sure everything was as it should be and looked over her shoulder at him.
“Ray, I’m heading out there. I want a minute to myself before everyone else joins. Get up, baby, and meet Oz in the coffee bar downstairs. You have eight minutes until you’ll be late. I’ll see you in the cemetery.” She laughed at his movement, grabbed her bag and walked from the room, the taste of him still on her lips.
The motel was built in the early 1930’s and the structure exuded the time. The inside had been refurbished a few times and though it wasn’t the Hilton by any stretch of the imagination, the crimson and burgundy furniture, carpets and curtains gave it an old world ambience. Meredith walked through the lobby, noting no one but those that were paid to work the ungodly hours of the dead milling about. She made sure to give a professional nod to each person that looked her way, never really knowing when the next stranger might offer them their next assignment. Meredith was a bridge building amongst people and always looked for an opportunity to make a new acquaintance – friend, no so much.
The weather outside was around 52 degrees Fahrenheit and Meredith wished she’d brought a light sweater as the wind picked up a bit and howled around her. She’d dressed in jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt and tennis shoes, her sandy blonde hair sweeping her shoulders as she jogged across the street. The moon hung high in the sky, not seeming to be quite willing to make its disappearance anytime soon, its illumination painting everything in a urethral glow.
Meredith loved this time of the morning where everything was still and silent. The world busied itself so often with meaningless tasks that droned on to the countenance of no one. She slipped through the old rod-iron gates, the metal groaning with effort to allow her entrance. A smile touched her lips as the wind blew softly and her chest tightened with excitement. She loved fear and the idea that perhaps she might not be alone in this place of dissention, but surrounded by those that didn’t received welcome into heaven and perhaps didn’t do enough for the glory of hell.
Finding a small wooden bench, Meredith carefully sat down, as not to disturb the silence and opened her bag, pulling out a few things, amongst them her energy reactor and her white noise EM handheld reactor. She sat them beside her, not wanting to turn them on until Oz and the team arrived. She’d learned the hard way a few times that to have an experience without another around for corroboration or witness was as good as invalid. She sat back and let her eyes take in the surrounding area. This cemetery had been well worn by the shoes of many thrill seekers coming to lay visual claim to the history and the popularity of this hollow ground. It was where the book and 1997 box office hit, In the Garden of Good and Evil was filmed, a smile touching Meredith’s lips at the remembrance of Kevin Spacey and his award winning performance.
The soft dripping of water began in the distance, nothing to visible see, but a subtle seduction for the ears, an awareness to the soul that lie in her chest. Something was here. She looked over to see her team walking up and stood to greet them, her voice nothing more than a whisper.
“Remember to watch where you are stepping. The graves have been flooded and cracked by the storms of 1963. I will not be carrying any of you out of here, so be mindful.”