The Halloween Project 2025 – Story 7: Reunion

The four of them met every year just to shoot the shit, keep updated, and drink shots. They didn’t really know how it all began, but this bar, these very seats, every June they came. All in their early thirties it had been 15 years. Fifteen long years since high school ended so abruptly. Melinda, always called Mel, and Franklin, always called Franklin, still lived in town. Rob lived in New York City, only 75 miles away, and Becky lived in Charleston, but that never stopped her from attending their yearly nostalgia binge. 

They caught up. No kids for most, except Mel. She married her college heartthrob and had two kids, one and four. Rob worked for a tech firm in the city, lived in Brooklyn with his boyfriend and enjoyed every aspect of urban life. Becky went to the College of Charleston and never left, working in the administration office. Franklin was the head of maintenance for the school district, which included Herbert Hoover High School. Yearly, they caught up on activities, vacations, books read, movies watched or missed. Always the high school scandals, which Mel was very well versed in. After their third round of Fireballs, Rob announced, “I’m sorry, guys, I really hate this,” holding up his empty shot glass. 

Mel said, “Then why the hell are you drinking it? Not just these three, but for the last 15 years?” 

”Solidarity?” Rob offered, then added, “Actually, I like the way we all bang our glasses down at the same time. Small price to pay.” 

”We’re going in,” Franklin stated in a voice of quiet authority. That quiet filled the table. 

”Not happening,” Rob countered.

”In? You don’t mean…” Mel’s voice trailed off. 

”Yes. The high school. Hoover. It’s been long enough. We get together, we chat, we laugh, but we never talk about it. Why? Why do we do that? Why do we do this?” he gestured around the bar table. 

”I’m in. I’m definitely in,” Becky joined Franklin. Rob and Mel turned their heads quickly toward Becky. Their identical looks expressed shock, but no anger. 

”What? Are you sure about this, Becky? This could be bad. Very, very bad,” Rob stated. 

”There are ghosts,” Franklin said. 

”Ghosts. Holy shit. And you want us to go in there?” Rob asked. 

”How can I say this?,” Franklin began, “Not ghosts, not in any real sense in the way we think of ghosts. They don’t go boo, or scare anyone, or haunt you. But…there’s something in that school. A spirit, or spirits…as you all know. Roaming…kind of moving around. I’ve felt it, especially when I sometimes go over there in the evening, for a play or something. And then after all the kids and the parents and the audience are gone, I help the staff lock up around 11:00 PM or so. It just feels…something.” 

The ladies were quiet. Rob started again. 

”Oh, man, oh man, oh man. Really? Haven’t we suffered enough? Isn’t there a way we can put this all behind us?” All three turned to him. 

“I’m sorry, really, I didn’t mean that. I know, I know,” and he quieted as well. 

Franklin continued. ”If Becky wants to go and you guys just…can’t. I understand, I do. We can go just the two of us. If you’re honestly up for it, Becky?” 

”I am, Franklin. I don’t know anything about ghosts and that stuff, but honestly, I always wanted to go back. There were lots of opportunities, but I just couldn’t. Now I think I can. I think I need to. 

”Closure?” Mel asked. 

”I don’t know,” Becky was shaking her head as she drained the last settled drops from the glass, “Maybe. Or maybe just to offer a prayer or a tear.” 

”To Room 214? Actually to the room?” Rob asked. 

”Yeah,” Franklin said, “Otherwise, there’s no sense going back. I have the keys, the clearance, the alarm codes. We lock up the building good at 10. That’s when the custodians leave. Meet me in the parking lot at quarter to 10 tomorrow night. Whoever shows up, we’ll just spend 15 minutes inside. Promise.” 

… 

The next night Franklin’s Ram truck sat nearest the school, waiting. A few minutes before 10, Mel pulled her van next to him. In the passenger seat was Becky. Franklin offered a soft smile through his side windshield. They all got out, hugged and nodded. 

”Becky twist your arm?” Franklin asked. 

”Not really. Beck’s staying at my house like always. What was I gonna do? Sit at home and drink Fireballs. Chris is watching the kids although I wouldn’t call this a night on the town.” They all smiled and turned as another set of headlights pulled into the driveway. 

Rob’s rental pulled in next to them. Franklin began, “I didn’t expect you to…” but Rob interrupted, “I couldn’t let you guys do this without me. I just couldn’t. Not like I really want to be here.” 

Now, a Reading Lab, Room 214, was situated at the back corner of the second floor, right near the stairs that led down and out to the back ballfields. Franklin led them through the front door into the office and turned on some hall lights. He said goodnight to Terry, the night janitor and led the group upstairs. No one uttered a word. They barely breathed. 

Outside 214, Franklin offered a set of keys and turned. 

”Are we all O.K.? Are you sure you want to do this?” 

”No, to the first question. Yes, to the second,” Becky said. 

Franklin unlocked the door, stepped inside and they all followed. At first, they managed just a few feet into the room. No longer a classroom, it offered reading carrels and tables, shelves of books, a couple of comfortable, overstuffed chairs, and fluorescent lights that streamed overhead. Not quite a library, but a room that originally had been closed for ten years, then after time had passed, re-purposed for students to come and relax during a study hall. The four friends began to move about wordlessly, each heading off in a slight personal curve toward a location. 

Time passed. They touched tables, ran fingers over the spines of books, looked left and right. Sometimes their eyes met with a sense of resignation and resolve. They waited for something, but no noises arose. No subtle sounds of pencils scratching on paper. No inaudible muttering of voices in the walls or floorboards. Nothing to raise fears or hair or goosebumps. No screams. Until Franklin said: 

”Right about here was where my sister sat.” 

And a moment passed. 

Mel said, “I know that my boyfriend was right here. He always liked to sit near the door.” They all nodded. 

Becky spoke, ”My mother was here. This exact spot where I’m standing. I’m sure of it. She was standing at a whiteboard in the front of the class. She was teaching ‘The Crucible’ when she,…when she,” Mel moved across the room to hug Becky who had begun crying. 

More silence, with no sounds emanating from the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the past. Rob spoke. 

”This is where my desk was. I was frozen in my seat. This is where I was shot.”