The Haunted Traveler Vol. 1 Issue 1

16
ity.
But the deeper you went into the Faculty Dining Room the
light faded into a gloominess that wasn’t completely done
away with by the electric lights. It was here the luncheon
buffet was set up. If I were the suspicious or paranoid type, I
would certainly make the connection between the quality of
the food and the ambience in which was served.
The day or, more specifically, the time of day that Dr.
Thantos made his pronouncement, the weather conditions
became a dramatic backdrop for it. The sun was gone and
dark gray-clouds piled into huge dark castles or whatever
shape your imagination assigned to them. For me it was kind
of Rorschach Test in the sky with no one recording the results.
Dr. Thantos was a big man, with a graying beard. He taught
courses on religion and one called “Death and Beyond.” His
voice came from his chest, deep and resonant. If you were at a
table with him or anywhere else in his presence, there would
be no way to avoid giving him—if not your full attention—at
least enough of it to be aware of what he was saying.
Having said “that all of us are haunted,” he immediately
garnered my attention. But the look on his face and the twinkle
I caught in his brown eyes, told me he was off on one of
his ego trips in the guise of an intellectual discussion.
He let his comment sit out there hanging over the table
like one of the clouds over the Brooklyn shoreline. No one,
and there were three other people at the table, said anything
that would have turned the comment into a conversation.
Dr. Kay Winston, a Professor of English Literature, was too
ethereal to be bound by the conventional law of gravity. Dr.
Paul Devlin, also a Professor of English Literature, concentrated
his energies on Irish Literature - - a kind of cultural
mania. The fifth individual at the table was Dr. Annette
Shuss, Chair of the Humanities department, and the Chair
of the English Department. Her specialty was Medieval English
Literature. But her real interest lay in the political side