“She doesn’t know how to use an apostrophe, but you think she can contact Horace? Even if she has all the powers she claims to have, there’s no way the Horace we knew and tolerated would condescend to talk to someone who hasn’t learned basic punctuation.”
“Don’t be an Elitist, Jack.” Annie kept scrolling. “It’s really unattractive to women.”
“I have absolutely no interest in attracting women. And whether I’m Elitist or not, you know Horace was.”
“This is true.” Annie clicked the back button. “He was an arrogant snobbish prick. He’d never talk to Apostrophe Abusing Nichole.”
“Look, Annie, he was terrified of people when he was alive. What makes you think he would suddenly become more courageous in death? He’s not showing up in any room with a bunch of people in it.”
“Well, maybe not.” Annie smiled nostalgically. “I remember one of the first times he came to my place in Tempe, the one I shared with Bonnie. He was fine when he was vacuuming my place, but when a bunch of my friends arrived with wine coolers, I told him to put the vacuum away and sit down with the rest of us. I could actually SEE him sweating, and it wasn’t from being tired out from pushing the vacuum around. He was still something like healthy 20 years ago. I texted him so no one else would know what I was saying. I told him it was okay if he wanted to leave. I never saw him looking so relieved. He shut his phone, made up a totally lame excuse, and he bolted.”
“Yeah. That sounds exactly like Horace.”
“So, I think he would be okay if he were the star of the show… and nobody could see him. He hates to be seen. Spirits are invisible and all, so…”
“How about you just accept that you’re having some odd hallucinations, see if you can get some counseling or some meds, and get on with your life. You have a husband and a kid of your own now. You just… look… you don’t have time for melodrama.”
“Are you gonna help or what? I mean, it was great you helped out at The Memorial. Thanks. I’m grateful. I’m sure Horace would have appreciated it. But, the problem still remains, and I’m going to have to find a solution. I’m being haunted. Even Jackson is noticing it. He asks about the smell, and he’s heard Voley barking in the middle of the night.”
“What does Axel think about it?”
“He thinks I’m just having a bad reaction to losing my friend. He thinks I just don’t know how to grieve. And that’s the thing. Look, I’m not grieving. I’m pissed, okay? How do you grieve someone you’re pissed at? I didn’t really need to hold back any tears at The Memorial. Even when Stevie sang “On Your Way,” I felt… you know… nothing. Everybody else is crying, and sure, I put on a show. I know how to present myself in Social Situations, which is a skill Horace never had outside any of his classrooms, and I did my job. But, I’m not sad. I don’t know. Maybe I will be sometime, but it’s just not anything I feel now. Sorry. I can’t choose my feelings. I’m not even scared of his ghost. He’s not going to hurt anyone. He’s just going to keep pissing me off. And I need to get him to stop.”
“So, how many people are you inviting?”
“Google recommends a total of 13 in the room. I guess it’s a powerful number.”
“It’s a prime number, but I don’t think that gives it any mystical power. Neither did Horace.”
“Let me know next time you go into a high rise with a 13 on the elevator. 11, 12, 14, 15… It’s the way they’re made. Is that just a coincidence?”
“No. It’s just stupid.”
“So, are you coming or not?”
“Fine, whatever. I’ll be there. Are Axel and Jackson attending?”
“Axel is. I’m not having kids at a séance. That’s just stupid.”
“So, we’re three. The Medium makes four. Who are the other nine?”
“I’m thinking I might be The Medium. No chance of trickery then. Horace would approve of that I think.”
“Yeah. Yeah, he probably would. So, you have ten friends?”
Annie rolled her eyes. “I have a LOT more than ten. I need to choose the most open-minded ones. And then I have to coordinate schedules and all that. I think my Mom and her husband will come. And my sister and her husband.”
“So, six to go.”
Annie nodded. “Yeah.”
***
The six were random friends of Annie’s from work, from college, from her volleyball team, and Sosha, a friend of Jack’s who thought the paranormal was a neglected science. Sosha was the one who brought the Ouija board. She put it on the table, and Annie’s friend, Beverly, leapt to her feet.
“No. No way. I’m not being involved with anything with a Ouija board. Those things summon evil spirits.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Bev, we’re here to summon Horace. He’s not evil.” Jack was disgusted.
“Maybe he’s not who we’ll summon.”
“Look,” said Axel, “this is basically bullshit, anyway, so let’s just get it over with so I can get Annie to accept the need for counseling and meds, okay? There won’t be any spirits here, tonight, probably because when you’re dead, you’re dead. You don’t come back and haunt anyone.”
“Have you ever been dead?” This was Annie’s mother, Maureen.
Axel just rolled his eyes. “Come on, Ma, you know better than that.”
“Well,” she continued, “if you’ve never been dead, then how could you know?”
“Okay, everyone,” said Annie, “let’s just settle down a little, okay? Horace isn’t going to hurt anyone, and this is how we can start to talk to him. You’re here to help me out, and this is how it’s done. I did my research. Everyone has to hold hands, except for the three people who put their fingertips on the planchette. When we get to the séance all 13 of us will hold hands.”
“I’m not touching that thing,” said Beverly. “I’ll hold hands, but I’m not touching something that’s going to get me possessed by a demon. I’m just not doing that.”
“Okay, Beverly. That’s fine. Let’s get the skeptics. It’s less likely to be faked then. So, Jack and Axel, you both think this is bullshit, right?”
Jack nodded. “Definitely.”
Axel said, “I know it’s bullshit.”
“Good. That’s two. Now who’s the third?”
“I think Horace should be the third,” said Maureen. “Wouldn’t that make sense?”
“Well, it would,” said Axel, “except, you know, what with him being dead and all, he’s not here tonight.”
“No,” said Annie. “Mom’s right. He can be the third set of fingers. Horace was the biggest skeptic of all of us. Why not?”
“Honestly?” asked Jack. “Because with only Axel and me, it’s not going to move. We’re not going to push it because we’re not up for bullshit.”
“Well, then, it will be quick. Just put your fingertips on it like this… just around the edges. Good. There you go. Not so hard, Axel. Just very lightly. Okay. Now. I’m going to call on the spirit of Horace.” Annie took a deep breath. She shuddered a little. “Horace… are you with us?”
Everyone watched the planchette carefully. For a solid minute nothing happened. A minute is an incredibly long time when you’re waiting for something. Really. Listen.
While this clock ticks off sixty seconds, one at a time, you can just see yourself staring at the little plastic device with a plastic window in it.
Jack and Axel didn’t look at each other. Instead, they were, against their better instincts, as interested as everyone else in seeing what it would do. And it was at the very moment that Axel became convinced this wasn’t going to work that it began to move.
“Knock it off, Jack!”
“I’m not! Dude, I swear I’m not moving this thing.”
“Where is it going?” Sosha wanted their concentration back on the board. “Everyone… everyone! You need to open your minds farther. Let him in. Quit fighting it. Make Horace feel welcome.”
“Horace has never felt welcome anywhere in his life.”
“Well, his life is over now, Annie, so maybe…” Axel stopped talking as the word “Yes” appeared, centered, almost as carefully as a scientist centers his microscope, in the little plastic window of the planchette.
“Holy fuck!” said Jack.
“Ooh! I told you so! I told you, I told you, I told you. No one would believe me, but there it is. Positive, irrefutable evidence. Even Horace would have to accept this. Axel, tell me, really. Be completely honest. Did you move that thing?”
“No. I would love to tell you I did, because I don’t want to blame Jack. He’s a nice guy, but I really didn’t think he would pull something like this.”
“Hey, dude, don’t blame me. I don’t know why you’re trying to freak out Annie, but it’s a lousy thing for a husband to do to his wife.”
“Okay, boys, maybe instead of whining,” said Maureen, “you could just accept… what did Horace used to call it Annie?”
“The evidence of your own senses. Yeah. And that’s what you have. We have two people who are the least likely to move the planchette with their hands on it. So, what are the possibilities?”
“One of us could be lying.”
“Well, it’s not me, Jack.”
“It’s not me, either.”
Annie had an idea. “Horace, is Axel lying?”
Now the planchette began to move almost instantly. It floated across the board the way an old man stumbles across a room he doesn’t know well. After a moment the word “No” was perfectly centered in the window.
“Okay. Then, Horace, is Jack lying?”
The planchette moved away from the No for just a moment, and then returned.
“Well, if we believe both of you, what other explanations are available?”
“We could accept that Horace is here, couldn’t we?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Occam’s razor tells us…”
The planchette started moving more quickly now.
Annie read off the letters as they appeared in the window. “Z… E… B… R… A… S”
Annie smiled at Jack triumphantly. “When you hear hoofbeats, think horses before… what was it?”
Jack just stared at the board. “Zebras.”
