Page 38 of A Very No Strings Halloween
“Okay, mothahfucka,” Billy said, also smiling softly. “You don’t have to go home, but ya can’t stay here. Me, I gotta go see about a girl.”
And with that, the ghost nodded his approval and then vanished, along with the storm and all of Billy’s fears of loving and being loved.
Then Billy drove away from the house, back to the apartment building he and Donna both lived in as neighbors, found Donna, they kissed, and then they drove back to the house again together. There, at that house, they once again did it in every room that night.
And they did it nastily, and happily, evah aftah.
TEN
Billy
SUPAHNATURAL
So this is happening.
I was listening to my favorite Meat Loaf song last night and wondering if there was anything I won’t do for love, but it turns out I’ll do everything Donna asks me to do.
Including participating in a fucking séance.
I cross myself when Donna isn’t looking. Not in fear of ghosts or demons. In fear of my ma or Aunt Mamie finding out. If any of my older Catholic relatives hear about this I will be in so much trouble. But I’m doing it for Donna. And because part of me is thinking this is actually an elaborate role-play scene, like, taken to the next level. But if she’s serious about it being a real séance, I don’t want to ask. I’ll just play along, like I always do. And I’ll go to confession tomorrow to repent, just in case.
It is literally a dark and stormy night over here at the house. The night of a full moon, no less. It’s not too cold though, which is good because Donna didn’t think we should turn the heat on. She’s brought a Costco-size bag of salt, a bunch of candles, and a Ouija board up to the master bedroom. Because this is where she feels the spirit’s presence the strongest, she says. She has also brought a box of wine that her friend from work gave her. She calls it emergency trunk wine. Apparently trying to communicate with a spirit counts as an emergency. A pretty big one, judging by the number of glasses she’s knocking back.
“Should you be drinking this much while Ouija boarding, Madam Belladonna?”
She polishes off the glass of wine and then smacks her lips. “I don’t know how to do this without it. It’ll be fine.” She puts the glass down on a bedside table and claps her hands. “Wooo! Let’s do this. Let the spirit communications begin!” She pulls a piece of white chalk from her bag. “Okay. I have to do a cleansing ritual and create a protective circle first. By drawing a pentacle on the ground. Or a pentagram? I need to draw a five-pointed star thingy.”
Okay, this has to be RP.I roll up my sleeves. This is gonna be good. “You need any help with anything, Red?”
“No, I’m good. Piper texted me all the deets.” She gets on her hands and knees on thefloor and draws a big five-pointed star thingy. She’s wearing a blouse, and I have a fantastic view of her cleavage. So far I have no complaints about this ritual. “Oh wait, can you turn off the light?”
I do. “Should I leave the door to the hallway open?”
“I think so?” She gets up and places four big white candles on the floor around the pentagram and then lights them. Then she lights a fifth candle, a tapered one, and holds on to it as she stands in the center of the pentagram. She waves the candle around. “I am clearing the air…” she chants, closing her eyes. “This is a safe space… I banish all negative entities… Only entities with good intentions may enter this space…” She opens her eyes. “Shit, I forgot the salt.”
“I’ll get it.” I grab the twenty-five-pound bag of table salt and rip it open like it’s one of Donna’s tank tops. “What do I do?”
“Pour it in a big circle around the pentagram. Outside the candles. I think.”
“You got it.” I do that. It’s not a perfect circle, but it’s a full circle and there’s still some leftover when I’m done. “Do I need to use all of it?”
“No, I think this is good,” she says. “I hereby acknowledge that this circle of salt represents the boundary wherein all those who enter shall not be harmed.” She closes her eyes again and hums something. I think it’s the theme song fromHarry Potter. Then she opens her eyes, curtsies, and shrugs. “Okay, I think that’s it. Now we bring that table and the chairs inside the circle and set up the Ouija board.”
I carry a round table to the center of the chalk pentagram, and we each set a chair on either side of it. Donna places a brass candlestick near the edge of the table and puts the tapered candle in it. Then she unboxes the Ouija board and places it in the center of the table. I’ve seen these in movies and TV shows, of course. It’s just a beige-and-black rectangle with the wordsYesandNoin the top corners,Good Byealong the bottom, the alphabet, a line of numbers, and a drawing of a sun and a moon. She places a plastic triangle thing on top of the board.
“This is the message indicator,” she explains. “I will be the one communing with the spirit. It has to be only one of us so the spirit doesn’t get confused. I will ask the questions, and we will patiently await the answers. Take a seat,” she says. So serious, all of a sudden.
We take a seat in chairs opposite each other. “Do we hold hands?” I ask.
“No. We each place the fingertips of both our hands lightly upon the message indicator, which is otherwise known as a planchette.” The detail she’s going into for this scene is really chef’s kiss. “Please do not purposefully manipulate the message indicator.”
“Got it.” I place my fingertips lightly upon the message indicator. “I shan’t.”
“Neither shall I,” she says. Then she takes a really deep, shaky breath, exhaling through her mouth. “Okay. You ready?”
“So ready.” Halfway to full mast ever since she lit the candles.
“Same. Okay. Here we go…” She closes her eyes. It is eerily quiet. The rain has stopped. The winds have cleared the sky of clouds. The full moon shines bright.
