Chapter Two Saved By The Bell
The ghostly figure in the gallery vanished and we whirled around to see Sarah, now pale pointing to where the ghost had stood.
Oh, it was hideous, she bellowed. It was the ghost! I have to get out of here, she said starting down the steps and back toward the vestibule.
Jacqueline followed her. What did you see, dear, she asked soothingly.
It was the ghost! Sarah wailed as she reached the door and went through. Jacqueline followed and soon a door slammed. The two women were gone.
We saw it too, Jenn said, looking at Melissa and Corey. There was something up there, right Terry.
I nodded, not sure what to say. What did we see? It couldn’t possibly be a ghost?
Marlene looked smug as she announced, So you’ve seen the famous St. Marcus ghost. It’s actually the ghost of St. Marcus, who this church was named after in 1709. The rumour is that St. Marcus haunts his church because he’s upset that tourists have invaded New Orleans, the whole Mardi Gras celebration. He only haunts the church during Mardi Gras.
You don’t say, I said, skeptically. I’d seen a lot of strange things in my life but I wasn’t about to start believing in ghosts. But what was that thing that Jenn and I saw. I was determined to find out.
You aren’t scared? Marlene said, her eyes widening.The ghost might return.
I’m looking forward to it, I stated. Marlene lost her smile. Tours over, she said and led us back to the vestibule.
Wow, she really changed her tune, Melissa muttered as we went back out into the street into the bright sunshine.
Yeah, something definitely fishy is going on. I’m going back in, I announced turning back to the door.
Wait, Terry, Jenn said
No, I have to find out about that ghost. You guys don’t believe in ghosts do you?
No we don’t, Corey said. But it’s kind of dangerous going back into that creepy place.
Yes, Jenn echoed. That’s why one of us is going back in with him.
Jenn followed me back into the vestibule. It was all quiet. We waited a minute to make sure that Marlene wasn’t around then scanned the large entryway. There’s got to be a staircase to the upper gallery. I whispered to Jenn. Lets split up and look.
I went to the far end of the vestibule and looked for a door. Hidden behind a small wall jutting out in the corner was a dark staircase, leading up.
Jenn, come here, I found it, i said motioning with my hand. Follow me.
I went up the small staircase that winded around and stopped at a small door. I opened the door and Jenn followed me out into the gallery. We had a magnificent view of the church below. No one seemed to be around. Marlene and her “friend” must still be here, I whispered. Keep an eye out for them. I’m going to search for clues to our “ghost”.
Jenn walked to the edge of the gallery and leaned on the railing and scanned the main church below for any movement. I peered between the pews and particularly where we had seen the “ghost” only about 15 minutes earlier.
This is the spot. I determined getting down on my hands and knees and searching the floor. What was the ghost doing up here? Just trying to scare us? Or did it tie in with Bruno’s warning about the “evil ones”.
It was pretty dark up here and I didn’t have a flashlight. My sharp eyes scanned the whole area but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary—at first. Then my eyes caught something in the glint of the flashlight. I picked it up.
Terry, I hear voices, Jenn suddenly said in a stage whisper. Marlene’s coming back with someone.
I joined Jenn at the wall that overlooked the church and we crouched down. We heard Marlene talking to someone. The guy she was arguing with earlier?
…Yeah just some tourists, she said. That was good timing on your part, I must say, Jon, she said with a laugh. You showed up just in time. I was getting nervous enough as it was without those kids and two old ladies showing up. I’m glad you scared them away.
Marlene and her companion, Jon were moving up towards the front of the church, their backs to us. Suddenly my cell phone rang shrilly. I grabbed it and silenced it but not before Marlene and her companion turned around and looked up to the balcony.
What was that, Marlene croaked. Was that a phone ringing?
Sounded like a cell phone, Jon replied. Maybe someone left it here on Sunday. He turned and headed back to the back of the church. I’ll get it and call the person back—let them know their phone is here.
Uh-oh, he’s coming. Where do we hide? Jenn hissed.
Here, in between the pews, I said as we scurried on our hands and knees toward the end of the pews at the edge of the balcony. If this guy looked in our direction, he might see us. Hopefully he wouldn’t.
We heard his feet pounding on the stairs and soon he emerged through the door at the back on the left, not looking in our direction(for now)
We kept perfectly still and hardly breathed. He picked up my phone and looked it over and turned to leave. Jenn and I nearly breathed a sigh of relief as the guy just headed back to the stairs but the phone rang again.
Jon answered it. Uh-oh.
Hello, he said, stopping at the doorway. What’s this, no this isn’t Terry, who is this? Hello?
He looked at the phone and turned slowly looking around the balcony. Marlene, he called out. We have a little problem, can you come up here. His eyes scanned the balcony and he headed back to the front of the balcony again. A few more feet and he would surely see us.
What is it? Marlene’s voice came from below. Who was on the phone.
Jon was silent as he made his way down the aisle. Only a few seconds more and he would reach us.
Jon? Marlene said again. What’s wrong?
Can you come up here, he said slowly and deliberately, still moving slowly. Jenn grabbed my arm and pointed. If we crawled—very quietly—there was a small recess in the wall at the front of the balcony. If we could squeeze in there, Jon might not find us—right away at least.
Before we could make our move we heard a commotion on the stairs at the back of the balcony. Jon turned and headed back to the balcony entrance to see what was up.
Voices drifted up the stairs—Marlene’s and someone elses—someone familiar. Melissa!
We made our move. Once Jon was out of the balcony to the stairs on the left side we scurried to the right side stairway and crept down. Once at the bottom we heard the voices again.
You can give this back to your friend, Terry, Jon said and you can tell him not to go snooping around in here. I know he was up in the gallery earlier and if I catch any of you around here again, I’m calling the cops.
Anything you say, Melissa said. Thanks for the phone, sir, she added. We heard footsteps and saw Melissa appear and go out the front entrance of the church.
Silence. Did Jon still think we were here? I looked at Jenn, who was thinking the same thing. Did we dare move?
I had a hunch and motioned to Jenn to stay still. A moment later Jon and Marlene came into the main vestibule. I don’t know what those kids are up to, Jon muttered, but I think that they were up in the gallery. They probaly snuck out when we were with that girl. Keep an eye out for this Terry and any of his friends. If any of them show up again, let me know right away. I don’t want them messing up our plans.
Marlene just nodded. They headed back into the main church. We heard their voices recede and made our way to the front door.
Once back in the sunshine we caught up with Melissa and Corey. Whoa, that was close, Melissa exclaimed.
You’re telling us, if you hadn’t come when you did and cause the ruckus, Jon would have found us in the gallery snooping around, I said with a grin. We owe you one!
I had a feeling that you needed a diversion—when that guy answered the phone, Melissa went on.
Come on, I said suddenly. We have some investigating to do. Something’s happening at the church, something sinister. We can’t show our faces around there, so we’ll have to keep our snooping real quiet like.
An hour later we were in a crowded downtown restaurant. It was noon and the Mardi Gras celebrations were underway. All around us people were dressed in bright costumes. Music drifted in from the street. I pulled out a newspaper that I grabbed on the way here.
Look, it mentions Bruno Bastille and that he was a student here at Louisiana State. He studied journalism. Originally from France, he moved to the US two years ago to go to school. Nothing out of the ordinary about him to suggest he was in any kind of trouble.
But why did he have a gun? Jenn wondered. Thankfully he didn’t use it.
What did he die of? Melissa spoke up.
It says here that he was poisoned, I said excitedly. How did he get poisoned. By someone involved in something at St. Marcus’? It’s all very strange.
Right up your alley, Terry, Corey said grinning. If anyone can solve the mystery, you can.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy, but this sure is an odd case. I don’t have a clue of what’s going on. I’d like to go over to the university and talk to his professors. Maybe they can give us a clue as to what Bastille was talking about just before he died. Who’s game?
I’ll come, Terry, Melissa said.
Me too, Jenn piped up. Corey?
Sure, I’ll go.
We took a taxi to LSU. The university was on a week break, so there were no classes, but the professors were still working. I soon located the journalism department and asked to speak to the director, a Miles Chesney, an older gentleman with a tweed jacket and a grey beard.
Can I help you? He asked distractedly as we entered his office I introduced myself and the others.
I wonder if you know anything about that young man who died last night downtown, Bruno Bastille?
Chesney’s head jerked around. Who are you? What do you want with Bruno?
Just some information. I said. My father is a private investigator in Canada and I’m somewhat of an amateur detective. I would just like to know if Bruno was in any trouble. My friend Jenn and I witnessed his little tirade in the street last night. He looked very troubled. I assure you I mean no ill will towards Mr. Bastille, we only want to help.
Chesney looked skeptical but finally relented. You look like decent young people, he said. Yes, Bruno was one of my students actually. Very promising career in journalism. He was returning home to France in the summer to work at his fathers paper in Paris.
Did you have any idea he was in any trouble, or why he was acting strangely, I asked. I mean, he was waving a gun around in a crowd of people and yelling “the evil ones are coming”.
Professor Chesney blanched when I mentioned what Bastille had said. It was not reported in the paper the exact words that Bastille had uttered. What did he say? Chesney croaked. His exact words.
I closed my eyes remembering the scene but Jenn spoke up first.
You’re all going to die, Mark my words, the whole city is in danger. They are coming, the evil ones are coming to destroy your city. They are coming to St. Marcus, I tell you. St. Marcus church. Tomorrow. You hear me, tomorrow. They’re coming! The evil ones are coming. I’m only the messenger.
Wow, I said staring at Jenn. Quite a memory.
Thanks, she said. I have a good memory for hearing words. Conversations I can recall from memory.
Chesney spoke up. I want to show you something. He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a file. In the file it looked like term papers.
My class had to hand in an assignment last week, he added, pulling out a paper from the middle of the stack and handing it to me. Look at the title of Mr. Bastille’s paper.
I glanced down at the page. It was titled “the Evil Ones are Coming”.
