It was a chilly October night in the old south. The party had already raged on for several hours, but the noise was starting to get to Jen. Seeking relief from the endless droning, she worked her way through a sea of garish costumes and drunken people.
As Halloween parties go, this one wasn't particularly special. It was held in the main hall of the old estate building that had stood for well over a hundred years. It was now part of the college and considered a landmark to the community. You couldn't attend classes here without being bombarded by the rich history that had unfolded here. It had been the site of a series of civil war battles, each side taking and then losing the ground several times. The building itself had been used as an emergency hospital by both sides as it was captured repeatedly.
To honor the history, Jen dressed as a southern woman from the period but felt distinctly out of place. The other guests had gone for slutty, to crazy outfits of vampires, pirates, zombies, or pop culture characters. She had more material in her dress than other girls had on their entire bodies. This left her feeling as if she had overdressed and, more importantly, she was hot. She tried to drown her discomfort in a few drinks and a few dances, but nobody wanted to dance with a southern bell when a slutty devil or a little bo peep with not half enough clothing to make a pillowcase was available. Feeling like an outcast, she lingered to the side where a single open window did little to aid her discomfort. Here she was in a school steeped in civil war history, and nobody even thought about dressing in the era.
She needed a break from the heat and the noise and found a doorway that led deeper into the old building. Walking into the wide hall decorated as if the war were still going, she was grateful to see few people. Most were standing just inside with a small group clustered around a pair of doors marking the bathrooms.
The sound of the booming music faded slightly as she meandered down the dark hall. A sigh of regret escaped her lips as she scolded herself for not dressing in something more fitting, perhaps even a little sexier. At least she had managed one sexy item, she thought. Her corset, which was even now making her wonder if she had taken a full breath all night. It pulled her waist in tight, forcing her to stand with her shoulders back as if attempting to present her breasts to the world. She wasn't sure anybody had even noticed. Small wonder, though, the neckline of her dress barely showed half an inch of skin below her shoulders. How was that going to compete with the women who looked to have painted on their outfits?
Rounding a corner into a dark hall, she wondered if it was safe to loosen the straps. The dress held in the heat and left her desperate to get some air over her skin. Thankfully the hall was cooler, and she pulled out a lace fan to wave in her face. She lingered alone for only a moment when movement in an adjacent room caught her eye. In what looked like a library out of a historical movie, a man was standing at the dark window. He was tall and slender with a crop of dark hair. What caught her eye most was he wore a Confederate soldier's outfit. She felt a bit of relief that somebody had chosen to dress in the same theme.
In a flash, he turned and looked directly at her with an intense gaze. She reacted with a startled jump as if the motion had caught her off guard. He, in turn, jumped back as if shocked that she had seen him. He wore a young face that seemed heavy with emotion. She could not help but feel sad when looking into those mournful eyes. They looked distant and broken in some way, like a lifetime of loss and torment haunted him.
"I'm sorry," she said, trying to steady herself in the doorway. "Did I startle you?"
A look of shock followed by wonder crossed his face, and he shook his head no in response. She couldn't help but notice how his expression changed, especially when he relaxed and his gaze fixated on her. There was such a longing and sense of need in his eyes. Jen felt suddenly drawn to this strange man, a deep need to comfort him.
"Did you feel out of place in that party, too?" she asked, walking slowly into the room. She gasped at the sudden chill in the air, amazed at much colder this room was. It was a welcome relief and helped set her at ease as she came closer to the mysterious stranger.
"I felt like I was the only one who spent any time thinking of a costume," she added as she moved closer to him. "You would think this was a brothel by the way some of them are dress --," she never finished her sentence, her voice caught in her throat.
He stared back with an expression of happiness, a smile breaking that tormented face. Suddenly he seemed like a lost boy, eager for directions with a tear at one of his eyes. The change was so sudden she was nearly shocked by the moment.
"Are you ok?" she asked, looking directly into those eyes. He only responded with a nod, his smile never fading.
The look of joy mixed with pain moved Jen's heart. Instinctively she took his hand and asked him. "Are you sure?" The same look of happiness rolled across his face as she watched the tear run down his cheek. She couldn't help but feel sympathy for him, especially when she realized just how cold his hand was.
"Oh my goodness." She cried out. "You are frozen half to death," she said at the touch of his skin. With gentle hands, she tried to rub his fingers to warm them, but the effort proved useless. "You need to go stand in the main hall; that place is stifling with all those bodies," she said and began to look around.
It was an old sitting room of sorts, lined with bookcases or paintings from a hundred years ago. A massive window dominated one wall, and an old couch sat on the other. At the far end was an old fieldstone fireplace, flanked by more bookcases of dark polished wood. There was a brass cradle beside it full of logs and a bucket of kindling beside.
Jen turned his hand loose to inspect the old hearth, grateful to see ash from recent fires indicating it was still in working order. It had been modernized with a gas line, so she set about piling the wood to get a fire going.
"It has gotten unseasonably cold this year," she said as she carefully stacked a few logs over a pile of sticks. "You must have walked here from across the campus, didn't you?" she added while struggling to work the gas line.
