Hades

“Don’t be such a party pooper,” Savannah said. She got up and began to drag me up the stairs after her. The others followed eagerly. “What could go wrong?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” I said, pulling away. “What couldn’t go wrong?”

“You don’t actually believe in ghosts, do you, Bethie?” Madison asked. “We’re only trying to have some fun.”

“I just don’t think we should play around with this stuff.” I sighed.

“Fine, don’t come,” Hallie snapped. “Stay down here by yourself and wait for Xavier like you always do. We knew you’d bail anyway. We’ll have fun without you.” She shot me a betrayed look and the others nodded in support of her. I wasn’t having any luck impressing upon them the danger associated with their plan. How could you tell children they were playing with fire if they’d never had the experience of being burned? I wished Gabriel were here. He radiated authority and he’d know exactly what to say to change their minds. He had that effect on people. Here I was sounding like nothing more than a wet blanket. Some ministering angel I was turning out to be. I knew it wasn’t within my powers to stop them, but I couldn’t let them go without me. If anything happened, at least I could be there to deal with whatever they encountered on the other side. They were already climbing the stairs, clutching one another’s arms as they whispered in excitement.

“Guys,” I called out. “Wait up … I’m coming.”

4 Crossing the Line

UPSTAIRS the house smelled musty and stale. On the landing the striped ivory wallpaper was peeling away in sheets from the rising damp. Although we could hear the party raging on below us, it was preternaturally still on the second floor as if in anticipation of some paranormal experience. The girls lapped it up.

“This is the perfect setting,” said Hallie.

“I’ll bet this place is already haunted,” added Savannah, her face flushed with enthusiasm.

Suddenly my concerns seemed disproportionate to the situation. Was it possible that I was overreacting? Why was I always assuming the worst and letting my conservative nature bring down the mood of everyone around me? I scolded myself mentally for always jumping to dire conclusions — what were the chances of these fun-loving girls actually making a connection with the other side? It had been known to happen, but it usually required the guidance of a trained medium. Lost spirits generally didn’t appreciate being called on as a source of teenage entertainment. Anyway, the girls would probably get bored when they failed to get the results they anticipated.

I followed Molly and the others into what had once been the guest bedroom. Its tall windows were opaque from a fine layer of accumulated dust and grime. The room itself was empty except for an iron bedstead pushed up against a grimy window. It had a rickety iron frame that had once been white but had tarnished to a buttery color over time. There was an equally faded quilt scattered with pink rosebuds. I guessed the Knox family didn’t even visit the old country house much anymore, let alone invite guests down for the summer. The window frames looked weathered by the sun and there were no curtains to block out the moonlight. I noticed the room faced west and overlooked the woods at the rear of the property. I could see the scarecrow standing guard in the field, its straw hat flapping in the breeze.

Without needing any prompting the girls arranged themselves cross-legged in a circle on the threadbare rug on the floor. Abby reached into her paper bag carefully as if she were withdrawing a priceless artifact. The Ouija board she unpacked from its green felt cover was so well-worn it might have passed for an antique.

“Where did you get that?”

“My grammy gave it to me,” Abby said. “I went to visit her in Montgomery last month.”

She placed the board with exaggerated ceremony in the center of our circle. I hadn’t seen one before other than in books, but this one looked more decorative than I’d expected. Around its perimeters, the alphabet was scrawled in two straight lines along with numbers and other symbols I didn’t recognize. In opposite corners and surrounded by curlicues were the capitalized words YES and NO. Even someone who’d never seen a Ouija board before couldn’t miss its association with the dark arts. Next Abby withdrew a fragile, long-stemmed sherry glass wrapped in tissue paper. She tossed the paper aside impatiently and placed the upturned glass on the board.

“How does this thing work?” Madison wanted to know. Aside from me, she was the only other participant not brimming with anticipation. I suspected it was more due to the lack of alcohol and boys in the room than any concern about our safety.

“You need a conductor like a piece of wood or an upturned glass to communicate with the spirit world,” Abby explained, enjoying her role as resident expert. “Strong psychic powers run in our family, so I actually know what I’m talking about. We need everyone’s combined energy for it to work. We all need to concentrate and each put our index finger on the base of the glass. Don’t press too hard, or the energy gets clogged and it won’t work. Once we make contact with the spirit, it’ll spell out what it wants to say to us. Okay, let’s get started. Everyone put your fingertips on the glass. Gently.” I had to hand it to Abby. She was pretty convincing considering I was quite sure she was making everything up on the spot. The girls complied eagerly with her instructions.

“What now?” said Madison.

“We wait for it to move.”

“Seriously?” Madison rolled her eyes. “That’s it? What stops everyone from just spelling out whatever they want?”

Abby glared at her. “It’s not hard to tell the difference between a joke and a real spirit message, Mad. Besides, the spirit will know things, things no one else could.” She tossed her hair. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I only know because I’ve had a lot of practice. Now, are we ready to start?” she asked in a solemn voice.

I dug my fingernails into the rough carpet beneath me, wishing there were some way to slip out of the room unnoticed. When Molly struck a match to light the candles someone had arranged on the floor, I jumped. She brought the flame to the wicks and the candles sizzled to life.

“Try not to make any sudden movements during the seance,” Abby said, glaring pointedly at me. “We don’t want to alarm the spirit. It has to feel comfortable with us.”

“You know from experience or from what you’ve seen on the John Edward show?” Madison asked sarcastically, unable to help herself.

“The women in my family have always been very connected to the other side,” Abby said. I didn’t like the way she emphasized the words other side, as if she were telling a ghost story at school camp.

“Have you ever seen a ghost?” Hallie asked in a hushed voice.

“I have,” Abby declared, deadly serious. “Which is why I should act as medium tonight.”

I didn’t know whether Abby was telling the truth or not. People sometimes caught flashes of the dead as they crossed between worlds. But most of the time ghost sightings were the result of a rampant imagination. A flash of a shadow or a trick of the light could easily be mistaken for something supernatural. It was different for me — I could sense the presence of spirits all the time — they were everywhere. If I focused, I could tell who was lost, who had just passed on, and who was searching for their loved ones. Gabriel had told me to tune them out — they weren’t our responsibility. I remembered when my elderly friend Alice had come to say good-bye after she’d passed on the year before. I’d seen her outside my bedroom window before she faded away. But not all spirits were as gentle as Alice; the ones that were unable to let go of their earthly attachment lingered for years, becoming more and more twisted, driven mad by the life around them that they could never be part of again. They lost touch with humans, came to resent them, and often acted out in violent ways. I wondered how keen Abby would be if she knew the truth about what was really out there. But there was no way of telling her, not without giving myself away completely.