Part 1

Ellis East Elementary Walk Through, May 18th

Auxiliary Classroom 2

This classroom is substantially larger than the previous. Like Auxiliary Classroom 1, it has thin blue carpet, and it is about as long as the previous classroom, but it is twice as wide, making it, quite possibly the largest classroom in the entire school. The walls are off white, with a large section of the northern wall being substantially lighter, suggesting a chalkboard or bulletin board had been removed. There is a small crack in the paint running down the eastern wall, spiderwebbing out at the ends. The wall underneath is undamaged, though. You can see the previous coat of paint, which is a pale, cornflower blue. The southern wall has windows, much like the southern wall of Auxiliary 1. There is a wonderful view of the field by the gymnasium and the woods that stretches behind the school. 

Where the first classroom was full of boxes, this one is exceptionally empty. There is a cabinet in the back corner that appears to be built in, but otherwise, there is nothing in the room, no tables, nothing on the walls. It is the most empty of any of the rooms I’ve viewed so far. I suppose I can check out the cabinet.

Part 2

[Thunder, Anna-Georgina has fallen asleep on the informal living room sofa]

Mayor Plume: [From Hallway] Georgie, honey, Mom wanted me to stop by and check on you. 

A-G:[Sleep talking] Don’t go in there!

Mayor Plume:[entering room]  Georgie! Is everything okay?

A-G: [Sleepily] Dad, what are you doing here?

MP: There was another power outage and you weren’t answering your mother’s texts. She asked me to check on you

A-G: I was taking a nap.

MP: It seems like the power outage didn’t affect you

A-G: Nope, outages have never been an issue here. In fact you might say we have too much electricity…

MP: How is that possible? I know the school is on the same [grid, system, look up words] as everyone else. I’ve seen the documentation.

A-G: [Off-handedly] Big advantage to being mayor, apart from all the gazebos.

MP: Leave gazebos out of this. [Beat] unless you want to build one on the grounds? I have some ideas…

A-G: Dad, we’ve talked about this…

MP + AG [she’s reminding him, he’s chastened]: No outdoor architecture plans until next spring.

A-G: How are things at your house? Do you want to call Mom? You both can be here, if it helps. Though if it gets bad enough to go to the basement, maybe we should go to your place.

MP: I thought you cleaned out the basement.

A-G: Well, yeah, now it’s just kind of… weird…

MP: Fair enough, honey. Did I ever tell you how my friends and I used to explore this place back in the day? There was this one time we found this– [not unkindly] You know what, never mind

[Lightening cracks] 

A-G: Let’s get down to the ground floor at least.

Part 3

Audio diary of Dr. Anna-Georgina Plume, June 8th, 11pm

Before Dad awoke me, I was dreaming. 

It starts out harmless enough, cozy even. I’m on a brick street, lined with old fashioned gas streetlights, running parallel to a river. On the other side of the river are the lights of a city, but on my side are rows of large, old, colorful houses. Painted ladies dancing up winding hills. There are Christmas lights in the trees and wreaths on the doors. Candles in the windows. The full winter scene. I’m not alone, but in that way dreams work, I don’t know who I’m with, only that I feel safe with them. A light snow begins to fall. They stop to look at the river, and  I start to walk down the street, from gaslight to gaslight, looking back, taking in the whole scene. 

But when I get to about the fifth streetlight, I look back and I realize my companion is much further from me than the short distance I thought I  had traveled, yet they had not moved. The distance is stretching out on its own.  And then I see what I am walking toward. It’s a bench with a statue sitting on it, but I turn around again and the distance has doubled and I am suddenly painfully aware that I do not know who I’m with, but also, when I turn back, the statue hasn’t changed but suddenly I am get the feeling that it is not a statue, but a person sat eerily still. Not one of those street performers, but a real person, trying to fool me, though for what intent, I do not know. 

The ground starts to pitch and shake, and suddenly, I know who my companion was, though I could no longer see them, and I am very afraid. The snowfall intensifies, and the sky turns purple. Lightening cuts the sky in half and thunder follows on its heels.

I awaken and I don’t remember who they were. I don’t think I am supposed to know. 

[Beat] This is the first dream I’ve had outside of the school in the time I’ve lived here

Part 4

Audio Diary of Anna-Georgina Plume, July 9th, 8 am

It has been a month since I moved in here. It seems much longer. Not in a bad way.

Moving into a new space feels like stretching out your limbs, exhaling, growing into the space. At times it feels like inertia, the process of learning  to be in the new space takes precedence over everything else. Even as eventful as the month has been, I feel myself resting, taking in the newness of it all, basking in the fact that the space is mine. As time goes on, the novelty of the spaces wears off, but I make a point of making use of every corner–not so much filling the space, but rather not allowing myself to be cramped into less space than I have. I am one person, I cannot be everywhere at once, but I would feel like I am cheating myself if I didn’t try to spend as much time in different parts of the school. 

Obviously, there is work to be done. There is the secret room behind the bookshelf that is full of old records, which will hopefully hold the answers to the endless stream of questions since moving in. There are boxes of textbooks, yearbooks, and class photos in the auxiliary classrooms which will tell me the stories I know I’m missing. I feel myself procrastinating on that work, but I largely just want to be in this space. I feel whole. I feel healed. As I move forward, these tasks will orient me to the space, to give me the meaning to fully inhabit it. 

Part 5

Letter from Helena Ree-

Actually, before I record, I want to return to the previous session with Lucy and Helena’s records. Lucy had revealed, in a letter to Helena, the alleged–I say alleged because while I have certainly seen evidence first hand, Lucy’s claims strain the limits of belief– anyway, the alleged consciousness of the building in which I now reside.  The letter alluded to some crisis which had arisen, the details of which are still unclear, and ended with Lucy giving Helena and her family the option to leave.  We have here, a letter dated shortly after Lucy’s message to Helena. Let’s see what happens. 

[formal recording voice]

Letter from Helena Reeve to Miss Grace Thornwood, dated October 10th, 1897

Dear Grace, 

A lot has happened since last I wrote. [beat] Algernon Hobbes is dead.

About a month ago, there were rumblings in Ellis Field that some of the residents were unhappy with how the school was being run. Specifically, the Hobbes have a policy that all students are to be admitted, all are welcome. This has been a point of contention over the years, but Lucy has always managed to charm the detractors over a cup of tea in her office. Recently, however, severe storms have been on the horizon and Lucy’s diplomacy was wearing thin.. 

It does not help that Algernon had grown more reclusive and his connections with the spiritualist movement became public knowledge, upsetting the religious leaders of Ellis Field. Adding to this tension was Lucy’s decision to admit a young woman from a neighboring farm who the community members seem to have taken issue with, viewing her unworthy of being admitted into the school. The truth is that Marguerite is brilliant, but she struggles with amongst large groups of people, and was not particularly suited for the noise and the chaos of a farm setting. Since coming to the school, she has thrived, not out of a fundamental change in who she is, but in having found an environment in which she has been allowed to flourish. Unfortunately this has led to the belief that the young woman has been influenced by magic or witchcraft. This was made worse by the fact that Algernon Hobbes had taken a particular interest in the young woman’s success at the school. 

In the week leading up to Algernon’s death, tensions were escalating around the town. Lucy’s attempts to smooth things over were rebuffed, as the community members were convinced that her tea was a part of the magic they feared. 

As things began to look particularly foreboding, Lucy shared with me some information about the school’s history that I am not at liberty to relay to you here, first because it is not my story to tell, but also because I am afraid if this letter is intercepted, it might potentially harm Lucy. Suffice to say, after the full explanation, James, Elizabeth, and I were given the opportunity to leave for our own safety. We refused, with the concession that Elizabeth would stay with the Messingers until this all was resolved.

The next evening, a group of men arrived at the gates of the school demanding to be allowed inside. Lucy refused, but they were able to remove the gate from its hinges and enter the schoolyard. Inside the school, Algernon and Lucy were arguing about how to proceed. Lucy still believed in the value of diplomacy, but Algernon was convinced that they–Lucy in particular–had some ability to defend against the intrusion. Preparing for the worst, James gave me an iron from the library fireplace while he hid a kitchen knife behind his back.

Once the men had entered the school, having removed the door in the same fashion as the gate, we fanned out in front of them in the front vestibule. Lucy tried to reason with them, but they were insistent that they destroy Algernon Hobbes’ office, which they believed to be in the basement of the school. Algernon did nothing to disabuse them of this notion, but did stand in front of them, trying to stop them from breaching the basement. In the height of conflict, one of the men pushed Algernon down the basement stairs, and we could hear the snap of bones as he landed. He did not move. 

At this point, the mob turned on the three of us. As James and I prepared to fight, we heard a voice, stern and regal, coming from the front of the school.

“You. Will. Stop.” Each word punctuated with considerable force. I looked up to see a woman flanked by a lion and a lioness walking toward the mob of men. The animals walked with an energy suggesting they could attack at any moment, and all three figures shone with a light that did not seem to be natural. The men fled the school, and in the confusion of their departure, I lost sight of the woman and her lions. 

Once everything had calmed down, James reattached the gate while Lucy and I tended to Algernon’s body. He did not survive the fall. We buried him, according to his wishes, at the edge of the forest. 

In the days since this has happened, things have calmed with the village again. I am certain that the appearance of the woman with lions has not been discussed in the village, as the men would not be believed, and the three of us do not speak of it either. 

James and I will remain here, supporting Lucy as she grieves. I apologize for ending this letter so abruptly, but I am exhausted in light of recent events.

Sincerely,

Helena

Part 6

Audio Diary of Dr. Anna-Georgina Plume, July 9th, 4 pm

We’re here in the first auxiliary classroom to sort through the boxes of books and ephemera left in here.

Do you see any cubbyholes?

Billy: Cubbyholes? No, why?

A-G: Just an idle curiosity. I haven’t seen any in the school…

[Beat]

Billy: [opening boxes sound] This box looks to be third grade math, dated 1998

A-G: I have [open box] Yearbooks. Beat] Let’s sort the boxes this way: That side of the room can be textbooks, and anything that is not a potential source of information about the school’s history. This side will be anything that has the potential to give us some information. Once we’re done sorting, we’ll bring all of the potentially usable documents to the archive room

Billy: Sounds like a good plan. I’ve got second grade science here.

[the following lines are staggered between sounds of boxes opening and movement]

A-G: Reading books, 1970s

Billy: Overhead transparencies 

A-G: A set of solid shapes for math

Billy: More yearbooks

A-G: Copies of worksheets

Billy: A pile of class photos

A-G: A box of board games

Billy: A box of crayons

A-G: Educational video cassettes 

Billy: Tempera paints

A-G: A portrait of a woman…

Billy: Ooooh, let’s see. Is it Lucy? Helena. 

A-G: Elizabeth Reeve-Messinger… Huh. I guess she married Karl…

Part 7

Ellis East Elementary Walkthrough, May 18th

The cabinet is a light wood, like an oak or an ash. It has two sets of double doors. [Door opening sound] The shelves behind the bottom doors are empty. They are lined with contact paper with a small violet pattern, but there is nothing else in here. [Door closing sound, then door opening sound]  There is a first aid poster on the inside of the top left door, dated [as if she is squinting to read] 1988. It has a slight tear across the top right corner. The top set of shelves are also empty, except for a pile of multicolored construction paper, faded with age. On the top page, which is yellow, there is a drawing of three parallel diagonal lines in blue magic marker. 

I am going to leave this room and hallway, and continue down the back portion of the hallway, past the teacher’s lounge to the music room.

Lavender Evening Fog is a fiction podcast. This episode was written by Victoria Dickman-Burnett, direction and script supervision by Ben Baird, produced, mixed, and edited  by Nick Federinko with additional editing by Victoria Dickman-Burnett. Executive Producers are Ben Baird and Victoria Dickman-Burnett. The voice of Anna-Georgina Plume is Victoria Dickman-Burnett. The voice of Billy is Nick Federinko. The voice of Mayor Duncan Plume is David Girmann. The Lavender Evening Fog logo was designed by Alicyn Dickman and Ms. Bitey, our carousel opossum was designed by Matt Lowe.  This episode is brought to you by the discovery of a deeper layer. This episode pairs well with a maple rooibos–no, not the cat–with notes of blueberry.