Page 88 of Obsession

Not too chicken—too smart. How a portal-opening device got packaged as a children’s board game is beyond me. But I don’t tell her that, as I don’t want to freak her out before we begin. “So here’s what I’ll need from you—I need you to focus solely on writing down the letters, should we receive communication. Don’t try to make words out of them as you go; it’ll probably be too dark for you to read them anyway. Just get the letters down on paper, and we can figure out what they spell after we close the circle.”

“Got it.”

I light a circle of thirteen black candles, and Charlotte and I have a seat on the floor. The spirit board is placed on the living room coffee table she and I carried in here for this purpose. Damion sent me Phenex’s sigil drawn on parchment paper, and I’ve taped it underneath the table. As the final step, I created a pentagram of black salt around the board.

I begin to chant “Phenex,” over and over, raising the energy in our circle. “Phenex the demon, friend of Zazel, we are seeking to communicate with you, please. Phenex, are you here?” My two fingers lightly push the planchette to Yes.

“Phenex the demon, what do we need to know to help release you from the incantation bowl?” My fingers quickly push the planchette to a slew of letters.

M Y S T E R Y G A N G I S A R I D I C U L O U S G R O U P N A M E

“Anything else we should know?”

My fingers push the planchette to Goodbye.

“Thank you, Phenex the demon for speaking with us.” I say an invocation of closure, close my circle, and flip on the closet light.

Charlotte studies the letters, and then writes something, holding up her notepad:

Mystery Gang is a ridiculous group name.

“You know what’s ridiculous? Being stuck in dinnerware,” I inform Phenex, pouring a circle of salt around the bowl to shut him up.

Chapter 36

Feeling like I’ve got too many magical irons in the fire without much to show for it, I grab my cards. “Universe, give me some guidance here,” I ask, holding my cards to my heart. Giving them a shuffle, I flip over the High Priestess reversed. I examine the card. The High Priestess also could represent the archetypal mother figure. Although the reversed means I might not be able to trust this figure.

“Regardless if I can trust her or not, I’ve got to talk to Mama,” I announce. Grandma refuses to help me channel her, so I’ll just have to improvise. I grab the empty shoe box my sparkly new shoes came in and get to work on my spell. I create a “telephone” to speak to Mama out of the box, a paper cup, and some string.

B.B. watches as I cast my circle, and I “call” Mama by chanting my spell into the paper cup “phone” receiver.

Cora Brooks, give me a call on this phone.

Tonight may all your secrets be known.

I’m in bed, having just nodded off when a faint ringing startles me. I walk to my closet, “answering” the phone. “Hello?” I say, holding the paper cup to my ear, my heart pounding wildly.

“Aubry, I don't have much time,” says an unfamiliar voice. “This is your mama. I’ve been trying to contact you.”

“That dream of me being stuck in the dark—that was you?”

“Yes! You’ve got to come quick! I’m trapped in a spirit bottle in an abandoned barn, but I think you can help free me. But I only trust you. Any of your friends’ energies will set off the wards and might trap me here permanently. And don’t bring your gris-gris bag. That magic could interfere with freeing me.”

“Who trapped you?”

“Bettina! You’ve got to hurry! My spirit is getting weaker and weaker.”

“I’m coming! Just tell me where you are.”

“Don’t tell anyone—you’re the only one I can trust. Wake up and you’ll know the way.”

I wake with a start. The call was a dream, but just as Mama said, I now know the address. Jumping out of bed, I make a quick bathroom pitstop and throw on my clothes, leaving my gris-gris bag on my dresser. B.B. meows loudly, hopping down from the bed. “Sorry to wake you. Gotta go. I’ll be back soon.”

Driving away from downtown, I keep going until my GPS guides me to a rural part of Memphis I’ve never been to. I keep driving, eventually turning onto a gravel road. I follow it until I come upon an old, abandoned barn.

I park my car and hustle over, prying open the barn door. The sun hasn’t risen yet, so I turn on my flashlight app on my cell phone. The smell of musty, rotting wood hangs in the air. I don’t see a bottle or container, but I need more light.

“Mama, where are you?” That’s when I’m whacked on the back of the head by something hard, and I crumble to the ground.

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