Blue Boy by Carol Ann

Title: The Blue Boy
Author: Carol Ann

I was inspired to write my first XF fanfic after reading a true account from the book "Ghosts of Gettysburg" by Mark Nesbitt. And for those of you with an inclination to history, you'll remember that today (133 years ago) was the last day in the battle of Gettysburg. Special thanks to Taylor for helping with some dialogue and description. Disclaimer: All standard ones apply. They're not mine, so I don't get the cash. :(

Comments loved, flames ignored...you know the drill!

Stevens Hall Gettysburg College, Pennsylvania
January 26, 1996

Amy Tarus sighed heavily as she continued staring at the half blank computer screen. The Gettysburg College sophomore glanced over at her digital clock on her night stand. The red LED displayed 1:11.

Damn, I'll never get this report done in time, she cursed silently. Don't panic. You still have seven hours. Amy picked up her Poe anthology and opened it back up to the "The Fall of the House of Usher." She paged through it looking for a quote to use in her paper.

Refocusing her energies back on the story and paper, Amy began typing again. About two more paragraphs later, Amy felt her eyelids get heavy. Amy clicked her mouse to save the file. She leaned back in her chair and stretched.

The computer screen suddenly went black and she heard the whine of the computer shutting down. Talk about timing! Someone's trying to tell me something.

Getting out of her chair, Amy jumped and let out a muffled scream. There was a boy's face reflecting out of the black monitor. Regaining her senses, Amy quickly looked behind her to the dorm window. She thought for just an instant that she had seen a bluish image blur by. Amy blinked and watched the February snowflakes fall lightly outside. Too many late nights, missy.

Walking over to the window she tried to peer down and see if there were any footprints. If there were any, the snow had quickly covered them over. Returning to her bed, she set her alarm for four a.m. and cuddled up under the safety and warmth of the quilt. But she kept the light by her nightstand on.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! The alarm clock announced four a.m. Amy sleepily tried hitting the snooze button but ended up knocking the obnoxious timepiece on the floor. In her half conscious state, her mind returned to the event of two hours ago. Her eyes focused on the frosted window.

The snow was falling faster, but not bluish color. Curiously, Amy got out of bed, wrapping the quilt around her shoulders until she adjusted to the cold dorm room.

As she got about half way to the window, Amy started having second thoughts. She really didn't want to know what had been out there. But her curiosity got the best of her. There's nothing out there, she told herself. As she stopped in front of the window to look out, she heard the whir of the computer as the power came back on. Amy spun around to see the Mac OS logo coming up on the screen. She swallowed a scream and began to shake from her fear, not the cold.

Of all of the times for her roommate to decide to go home over the weekend. Amy laughed a little when she remembered Meg saying that her not being around would be good for them so they wouldn't get on each other's nerves. Funny how Amy wished Meg were here now, despite her initial joy on Friday afternoon of having the place to herself.

Would Meg believe her? Amy needed to tell someone about this. But maybe they would think she was hallucinating from pulling too many all nighters. "So, did you get that paper written?" greeted Megan.

Amy jumped up from the desk chair . Standing, she quickly swung around to face her roommate. She had been so deep in thought that she didn't even her Meg's keyring's familiar sound in the door lock.

"It�s so good to see you, Meg."

"Too much coffee last night?" Meg joked. She knew that the only caffeine fix that her roommate touched was Dr. Pepper.

"Why do you ask?" Amy returned her full attention back to her friend.

"You jumped when I asked you about your paper."

"You startled me. I didn�t hear you come in."

Meg looked surprised. "I can�t believe you didn�t hear these," she answered, holding the keys up in the air and jingling them.

"I had a really late night. About two hours sleep."

Meg took her jacket off and walked over to the closet. Amy could still feel the cold radiating off her friend as she passed by her. Amy shivered as she once again recalled that bluish face in the window last night.

After hanging up her jacket, Meg made a beeline for her bed. "Don't mean to make you jealous, crashing like this. But I spent a few more hours on the road than I wanted thanks to the weather. I had my own all nighter. In an almost audible tone, Amy half-joked back, "See any Blue Boys out there?"

"What?" Meg mumbled. Her head was already buried in her pillows and her eyes were shut. "Good night," she replied and was fast asleep.

Amy walked back over to the desk and pulled the chair off the floor. She must have knocked it over when Meg surprised her coming into the room. She turned the computer off. Looking into the black depths of the monitor, Amy felt a cold shiver up her spine as her mind perfectly recalled the boy's face reflecting there the night before. Damn the paper.

I'll just turn it in late. I've gotta get out of here. Breakfast. Then class. She quickly yanked the backpack off the floor besides the desk, went to the closet for her jacket and waited to put them on until she was out of the dorm room.

February 9-10, 1996
Stevens Hall

It was two weeks since Amy's encounter with the Blue Boy, as she started calling him--to herself, of course. She hadn't given a lot of thought to the incident until Meg told her that she and her boyfriend were going to his family's for the weekend. Amy began to panic slightly with the news. Meg questioned her. Amy almost slipped up, but just made the excuse that she had been feeling lonely lately. Meg bought her story.

That night Amy slept with her nightstand lamp on and her head under the quilt. Sometime during the three o'clock hour she could have swore she heard a child�s cry, somewhat muffled, but distinctively a cry. Too frightened to check it out, Amy waited what seemed like days for the night to end.

After a less than peaceful sleep, Amy decided she had to tell someone about this. Someone who wouldn�t think she was crazy. She searched her head through countless names of friends and family only to realise they would all think she was nuts.

By that afternoon, she hadn't ventured much further than the bathroom. Most of the wintry Saturday had been spent curled up under the quilt reading a Harlequin romance novel while the stereo was kept low. It had been very quiet and she was so engrossed in her book that she felt like she had a heart-attack when the phone rang.

Picking up the phone, she had expected it to be Meg, but was quite surprised to learn it was her mom on the other end.

"Mom!"

"Is everything okay, dear? You sound so distressed."

Amy was still in shock. Her mom never called her at school. It had to be bad news.

"Who died?"

"No one. Why do you ask?"

"Seems like the only time you call is when something bad happens."

"Can't a mom call just because?"

Amy started getting the nerve up to mention her encounter with the Blue Boy. The silence on the line was just long enough for her mom to question what was the matter.

"Oh, mom, are you going to think I'm crazy if I tell you I think I've seen a ghost?"

Her mom had a good laugh and then asked, "What do you expect going to a school where a major Civil War battle was fought?"

"But it wasn�t a soldier, mom."

"Then what was it?"

"A little boy."

"Well, didn�t they have really young kids go off to war and lie about their age?"

"This boy was way too young."

"Sounds really spooky to me."

The mention of the word spooky reminded her of the nickname of a man her father knew. If she remembered right, he worked for the FBI and got that nickname because of his interest in the paranormal.

"Hey, mom, do you happen to remember dad�s FBI friend named Spooky?"

Her mom was silent for a few seconds as she recalled her only meeting with the FBI man, "Yeah, I remember the name Spooky. Met him once, very briefly. I think your dad was friends with his dad or something like that. You know how your dad kept to himself and I never really knew too many of his friends."

Amy smiled and closed her eyes as she tried to picture her dad what seemed so many years ago. How she missed him. "Dad may have kept to himself, but I still remember some good times with him before he started acting that way."

"Do you think Spooky would even remember the mention of George Tarus?"

"He probably would. I remember dad saying something about Spooky's photographic mind."

"So tell me about this ghost boy."

"Did I say that he had a blue face and was looking in at me through the window?"

"All the way up on the third floor," her mother exclaimed, "I thought maybe you saw him in the halls."

"I wish I had. Then maybe I would have known it was just a prank by some guys from the other dorm. You know how boring it gets here during winter."

"Are you sure it was in the window?"

"See, I didn�t think you�d believe me!"

"Well, honey, I know how you pull those all nighters. You were probably hallucinating."

Amy realised she wasn�t going to get any further in this conversation and decided to humour her mom, "Yeah, maybe you're right. I probably just dreamed it up." But deep in her heart Amy knew what she saw was real or whatever you called ghosts.

"I guess I should get going then. Remember, any time you need to talk, I'm here. You can call me collect."

"Thanks mom, I'm glad you called. Bye."

"Bye honey."

How Amy hated hearing that click and annoying dial tone when getting off the phone. It had just made her feel alone again. All I need now is for Blue Boy to show up. Maybe I should invite him in for pizza next time, Amy joked to herself. She picked up her book and quickly returned back to 1870s California.

Washington, DC.
February 12, 1996
9.03 am

Special Agent Scully was just finishing reading an e-mail from a friend of hers in Las Vegas when the phone rang. "Uh, huh. Yeah, ah, no, he's not here right now..."

She heard a click from behind her and saw Mulder walk into her field of view. "Hi, Scully, who you talking to?" Scully put the person on hold. "It's for you, actually. She says her dad was friends with your dad." Mulder took a moment to suppress the images of its darkened past. "Yeah, I'll take it at my desk."

"Mr. Mulder," the female's voice was young and sounded very nervous, almost out of breath.

"Yeah, this is Mulder. Who am I talking to?"

"Amy Tarus. My dad, George, was friends with your dad. I think his name was Bill.

There was silence. Amy knew it. It was a long shot calling up this FBI agent and thinking he'd know her dad.

Amy continued with her story. "I remember my dad mentioning a 'Spooky.'

I don't mean to make fun of you by that," she quickly apologised.

"It's okay, I'm getting used to it," Mulder chuckled.

"Well, the reason I'm calling is because I have a ghost."

"What?" The girl's statement caught him off guard. "What do you mean?"

"I go to school at Gettysburg College. Yeah, I know, a haven for ghosts. But my dad told me that you have had some experience in solving paranormal cases."

"Well, we don't always solve them, but we've investigated our fair share of them." Mulder rubbed the sleep from his hazel eyes and leaned back into his chair.

Amy started to relate her late night encounters with the Blue Boy.

"That sounds interesting. Just a sec." Mulder cupped his hand around the mouthpiece and called out, "Hey, Scully, fancy a trip out to a battlefield?"

Scully glanced up from her computer screen, "Why?"

"I'll explain later." Mulder returned back to Amy. "Is tomorrow afternoon okay?"

"Sure, my last class is over at three. Can you meet me outside Stevens Hall then?"

"Deal. We'll see you then."

Scully looked at Mulder anticipating his next statement.

"Scully, prepare yourself for a Civil War education."

Outskirts of Gettysburg, PA
February 13, 1996
2.35pm

The rented green Chevy Corsica meandered through the snowy Pennsylvania countryside following the Emmitsburg Pike into the sleepy little town of Gettysburg. Hard to believe that tens of thousands of Americans marched down this road to meet in battle about 133 years earlier.

Scully adjusted her glasses, "According to this, Stevens Hall was not built at the time of the battle. It wasn't until after the war in 1865 that it was constructed. Actually, between '65 and '68."

"So the little 'Blue Boy' as Amy called him was not involved at all with the war," Mulder noted.

"It was exclusively used as a women's dorm for many years, but rumors indicated it once also housed needy children. There aren't any existing records to substantiate that story, though."

Scully turned through several more pages until she found information that seemed to explain the rumors that children had been there at one time. "There's one person who said she had heard that at one time there were orphaned or disadvantaged children living on the third floor temporarily ."

"Anything else to back that up?"

"From around 1911 until 1935, Stevens Hall was used as an adjunct academy, like a prep school for Gettysburg College and housed students who were precollege age and younger." Scully paused as she read further. "Gettysburg already had an orphanage located near the entrance to the National Cemetery."

"Nothing like getting them while their young," Mulder quipped.

Scully glanced up from her notebook and glared at her partner before continuing. "Wait, there's another story that I think may fit about the Blue Boy. It says that shortly after the hall was built, a young boy was housed there on the third floor. Some say he was hidden. It was during a cold Pennsylvania winter."

"Just like now?" Mulder asked. The wind had been blowing very hard and for the last fifteen minutes, Mulder had been fighting the steering wheel to keep from sliding off the snow-packed road. The snow had been blowing across the roadway. Apparently the snow plows hadn't made a recent pass.

Scully continued to read on, very intent on the outcome of this story. "Supposedly there was a very cold wintry night when the headmistress came knocking and the young women in the dorm had to hide the young boy. Because the girls knew the quarters would be searched and there weren't any good places to hide the boy, they coaxed him to quickly crawl out the window and hide on the narrow ledge up on the third floor until the danger of his discovery passed."

"Did she find the boy in the search?"

"Oh, this is so terrible, Mulder. The girls were ordered downstairs for more thorough questioning for over an hour in the headmistresses' apartment. Once dismissed, the girls hurried back to their room and opened up the window. The boy was gone. They looked frantically below to see if he had fallen in the snow. They ran back downstairs and outside. There was no trace of the boy. No tracks in the snow, no impression of where he might have fallen. Nothing. He was never seen again."

"Maybe the snow was drifting or more snow came down during the hour or so the girls were gone, "Mulder began to ponder.

"But the boy fell about thirty feet..."

"...into the snow. It would break a fall."

"And very likely break some bones in the process."

"Children are pretty resilient."

"True. I guess you can be so cold and not feel pain right away."

"But still, someone in town would have to have seen him. It's not like he could hitch-hike his way out of town."

Scully changed the subject, realising she was getting nowhere with Mulder. "The hall is described as..."

"...a huge white brick building with a columned portico."

Scully looked over at her partner in surprize. "How did you know?"

Mulder pointed out his window. "We're here."

3.03pm

Amy Tarus bounded down the stairs and rounded the corner, entering the main vestibule of her hall. Silhouetted against the falling snow outside were two figures. One was a tall, athletic man with short hair in a trenchcoat and the other was a petite woman in a pant suit and trenchcoat. They had to be Mulder and Scully, she thought.

Mulder and Scully had watched the young woman come careening around the corner and stop. He could tell that she was sizing them up. They watched the pale, brunette walk toward them wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a blue sweatshirt advertising Marblehead lighthouse in Ohio. As she got closer, her brown eyes wandered between the two agents.

"Amy Tarus?" asked Scully.

"That's me. I assume you're Mulder and Scully."

Both of them went through the motions of showing her their badges. "I'm Mulder, she's Scully," he joked.

Forcing a smile she said, "I kind of figured that. Scully, huh? Any relation to Vin?"

"Not that anyone's told me."

Amy shrugged. "I was thinking we could go to the cafeteria and discuss this if you haven't eaten yet."

"Sure," said Mulder, "Nothing like mystery meat after a good drive."

Gettysburg College Campus Center 3.22pm

Amy, Mulder, and Scully carried their trays to a far corner of the campus center amidst the din and the clatter of students passing through on their way for classes. As they sat down, Scully excused herself to go get some napkins. When she returned, Mulder and Amy had already begun discussing her sighting.

"Gee, didn't even feel like waiting for grace?" she asked.

"Sorry, Scully. After hearing the history behind this place, I wanted to hear as much about what's happened as I could." He paused to bite into his grilled cheese sandwich.

"So," Scully punctuated by stabbing her fork into her salad, "when did all this start?"

"Almost two weeks ago. It was, uh, January twenty-sixth." Amy proceeded to expound on her story. She made sure to mention the lack of foot prints in the snow afterwards; that creeped her out the most.

After a while, their discussion drifted to other topics. What the FBI was really like, some of the cases they had taken.... For one, Mulder was regretful that he didn't allow himself to tell her the whole truth. Some he had promised to keep quiet for others, some for himself, and some he still wasn't sure about.

Scully wiped the last bit of salad dressing from the corner of her mouth. "So, shall we take a look at where this all happened?"

Amy's Room 4.16pm

Mulder and Scully walked into, what they found to be, a typical college student's room. One corner of the room contained a CD player boom box and a rack of CDs. Near that was a fully furnished Macintosh Performa...her family certainly had some money. Around it were stacked papers with small red corrections that apparently Amy herself had made. Aside from the hardwood floor and simple bed, there were a few posters around the room; Toad the Wet Sprocket, Crowded House, one with a few horses on it, and one of the Sydney Opera House. The other half of the room was decorated somewhat similarly, though one could quickly tell that this was a shared dorm. Amy walked out of the bathroom. "Sorry, I think my dairy intolerance kicked in. Oh, I should have told you I share the room. Her name's Meg. She's off with the fencing team in Harrisburg...won't be back until tomorrow. Well, let's see...I was working on my computer and when I shut it down I looked back at it to see the, uh, Blue Boy's reflection in it. You can see that it reflects the window perfectly. Normally I have the blinds closed, but it was like eleven at night and so I didn't see any point to close them. Besides, I like watching the stars sometimes." "And after seeing him you ran to the window, right?" asked Mulder. "Yeah, and I didn't see anything in the way of footprints. But it was snowing pretty well that night and they could have been covered rather quickly." Mulder nodded. He saw Scully wander over to the window. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" "That someone could have climbed up here?" "Scully, it has to be impossible. No one would have a ladder that reaches *three* stories. All the ones I've ever dealt with have been fifteen feet at best." "I said climbed, Mulder, not just walked up a ladder." "What do you mean?" Amy interjected. "Amy, did you know that you have a drain pipe that comes right up past your window?" "Yeah. But it's gotta be so old and corroded." Scully was about to talk when Mulder interrupted her. "Scully, I think I see something down there." "Your Blue Boy?" she asked. "No, I think I found your ladder." The three of them trudged down the flights of stairs and out into the evening snow. Sure enough, there was the foot of a ladder, reflecting the setting sunlight, sticking out of the snow. Mulder forced his way through the feet of undisturbed snow. As he hauled the ladder up out of the snow, he cursed himself for forgetting his gloves. Metal below freezing was not fun. Amy and Scully arrived by the time Mulder had gotten the ladder freed of its icy tomb. Amy pointed at the ladder. "Look, Delta Omicron Pi, that's our local fraternity. Well known pranksters." "Well, Mulder, I think we've found our Blue Boys." He paused in thought. "What about the original story?" "An old wives tale that these guys got wind of and decided to resurrect." Mulder's next comment was cut short by a growling from the sky. They all looked up to see a field of white drifting down toward them. He dropped the ladder. "I think we better get back inside."

Amy's Room 6.58pm

Scully turned away from the window. She looked over at Mulder, who was being shown a UFO web page by Amy. "I don't think it's going to stop." Amy opened a link to NetCast and got the current National Weather Service report for the Gettysburg area. "Nope. They're forecasting whiteout conditions through the night. They say that by morning this system should have passed."

"Well, Scully, it looks like we get to spend the night in a haunted dorm room," he said, beaming.

"I told you, it's *not* haunted. I just wish I had brought something to read."

"You're welcome to my meager collection. Meanwhile, I better go round up at least a couple of mattresses from the R.A."

10.14pm

Scully's eyes fluttered as sleep tried to bend her to its will. She yawned audibly and put down her copy of Anne Rice's "Exit to Eden." She looked over at Mulder who was still meandering through various paranormal and conspiracy related web pages. She sighed to herself and prayed he would never get connected at home.

"Mulder, I'm going to bed. I think you should too. We may not have a whole lot of time to make it out of here tomorrow."

He looked at her from the computer and rubbed his eyes from concentration. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he said glancing over at the sleeping form of Amy Tarus.

Miraculously, Amy had been able to muster up two whole beds. Granted, they were little more than a weak metal frame and thin mattress, but it was enough to impress even Scully and Mulder. As they settled in, they exchanged their good-nights, and soon succumbed to unconsciousness.

February 14, 1996
7.02am

As Amy stirred from sleep the first thing she noticed was that it had stopped snowing. She was grateful for that. The next thing she noticed, however, she wasn't so grateful for.

The Blue Boy was at her window slowly writing out a phrase. He looked up at Amy, mouthed something, and promptly dropped from view. "Mulder! Scully! Wake up!!"

Scully shot up out of bed and, in looking at the window, saw a blue streak of something. Mulder was only seconds behind her, but got his shoes on before she did.

"Come on, Scully!" he called.

"Go! Go ahead. I'll catch up!"

She watched her partner and Amy disappear out the door and heard them sprinting down the hall.

Amy and Mulder skidded, quite literally, to a halt at the front door of the hall. A cold breeze stung their faces. They looked out at the pristinely undisturbed snow all around them. No one had been up yet. They paid close attention to the ground below her window, scrutinizing the wind-swept drifts of snow.

"Smooth as silk," Mulder muttered.

"I know what I saw."

"I believe you." He looked over and saw that the fraternity ladder still laid up against the tree where he left it, encrusted in snow.

"Damn, nothing. Come on, let's get back inside before we freeze our butts off."

Scully was tying up her shoes as Mulder knocked at the door. "Just a sec!" she called.

"Or I'll huff and I'll puff!" her partner said from the other side.

She got up and walked over to the door. For a moment, something in her mind screamed at her to turn around. There she saw a small boy, about six years old, tapping at the window. Shifting her focus, she saw the words "Help Me" scrawled backward on the window.

"Oh, my God," she whispered.

The End