Page 37 of Eldritch

Pauline’s mouth twisted as if she’d tasted a lemon. “We did. The chairs all pushed themselves under the table. All at once. Without our help.”

“No way.” Sybil looked at the dining table in disbelief.

“Way.” Maria rubbed her arms. “I think I’m losing my freaking mind.”

Letisha and Sybil shared a glance that conveyed confusion layered upon astonishment. Sybil had known Letisha long enough to see the doubt and skepticism rearing its head inside Letisha’s smart as hell brain.

“I don’t even know what the hell to think,” Letisha said.

“You read my mind,” Pauline said. “I don’t either.”

“Whatever is going on, maybe we should just finish cleaning everything up,” Sybil said.

They finished cleaning the kitchen, but it took longer than she expected. Like clockwork, her phone rang after they’d completed the chore and before everyone had left the room.

“It’s Clarice,” Sybil said, her stomach doing a little drop as she wondered what the woman would say.

Sybil answered. “Clarice, I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Well, things are getting weird, aren’t they?” Clarice said, her voice even-tempered.

“Yes.” Saying nothing to the other women, Sybil moved into the Great Hall and sat on a couch by the fireplace again. By now, the clouds gathering above the forest were lowering again. As if this little spot in Colorado had earned a fairytale reputation of being bleak and foreboding.

Clarice sighed. “I got your voice mail first and listened to it, but then I noticed Doug had called, too.”

Sybil asked, “Did he tell you we are all insane?”

“No, he didn’t. He’s a very professional man. Very circumspect in some ways, but I like that about him. Doesn’t jump to conclusions. I told him I completely trust you. Because I’m a superb judge of character. One of the best, I think. But he also said he wanted to do an investigation on you...on everyone. He’s not a cop anymore, but he’s got that instinct.”

“I can tell.”

“I told him it was all right. That if he found out you were all trying to pull some wretched scam on me, I’d fire you.”

Sybil smiled as she noted the subtle humor in the older woman’s voice. “Sounds reasonable. You won’t get an argument from me.”

“That’s what I like to hear. If you were a scam artist, you wouldn’t be so reasonable.”

“All right then. What did you think of the photos of the shoe prints?”

“Extremely strange. It’s breaking my brain trying to understand everything that has happened since you got there.”

“You don’t have an opinion on why it’s happening?”

Clarice’s sigh came loud and clear over the phone. “I’m eighty years old, dear. I’ve seen quite a few weird things in my lifetime, most of them in the realm of everyday human stupidity. This...well, this doesn’t fit into that so far as I can tell. I’m going to sleep on it tonight. My guess is that Doug will pull out all the stops to investigate each one of you. Knowing him, he’ll have an answer for me first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll admit I’m blown over by all of this.”

Oh, that isn’t true, Sybil. You know it isn’t. Her father’s voice came to her loud and clear, echoing in her mind. You and the spooky shit that follows you around. It’s all your damned fault.

“Well, I had a long day's visit with a friend. So I need to call it a day. Talk with you soon,” the old lady said.

When they hung up, Sybil felt as if she had a boulder on her shoulders, or perhaps the burden of uncertainty weighed her down.

Dread made her stomach do a roll, and her throat tightened. Panic tensed her muscles and made her want to flee. Run into that forest outside and conceal herself in the dark shade of the huge tree limbs.

Oh, Sybil. You couldn’t hide it forever. You were stupid to think you could keep it hidden forever.

“Shut up,” she said to the ghost of her mother’s voice.

---