Believe, page 8
A third sprinkle from the bag and the flames darkened from purple to black, now reaching almost three feet into the air. Joe suddenly realized that not only was the fire smokeless, it was silent.
Now Abraham pointed to the feather in Joe’s hand, and he placed it beside the fire. Next, he pointed to the rocks, and Joe put them beside the feather. They had strange, stick-figure carvings on them. Runes? Joe thought.
Another verse of the song, words rolling over each other, and without being told, Joe placed the small bones beside the other things.
Abraham suddenly shouted three times, pounding his fists into the earth.
There was silence. Joe watched his companion stand, holding his arms out, hands open, eyes closed, as if feeling the air for something. Suddenly the purple flames dropped into the coals, and a thick black smoke rose from the campfire. Joe realized the temperature in the cave had dropped, and even the blood in his veins felt sluggish and ice-choked. Across from him Abraham remained standing, but now held something in his palm. It was the dead rodent. As Joe watched, it began to move. He realized that Abraham was now chanting under his breath, muttering those strange words in a singsong whisper. The tiny creature began to writhe, and then make noise: a tiny sound, low at first like a squeaky hinge, then rising until it felt like a needle in his head, his ears, his eyes, and Joe wanted to scream, to blot it out.
Without warning, Abraham flung the small thing into the heart of the fire. The sound stopped at once, to Joe’s relief. He blinked across at Abraham, but the old man was staring at the smoke, watching it warily. Joe followed his gaze and realized that it was taking shape, becoming something.
Abraham gestured for Joe to stand up and move to the back of the cave, which he did. The smoke looked evil, roiling, and rotten, emitting a smell that made Joe think of death, slime and mold and hungry insects burrowing into fetid piles of refuse and filth. When he was as far away as he could get, Abraham standing between himself and the smoke, he could see there was a form to it: eyes, though they kept moving, and something like wings, or arms, or tentacles—it shifted constantly, but clearly gave the impression of a creature of some kind.
“Ecthros, I summon thee!” Abraham’s voice rang out in the cave. “Thou hast crossed the boundaries set in place in ancient times. Thou hast violated the sanctity of the souls of the living. Thou hast taken life that was not thine to take. I come to send thee out of this world for all time!”
The smoke creature seemed to throw its head back and howl, sounding like a hurricane wind. Looming higher, it leaned over Abraham, curling tendrils of smoky arms around his legs. It seemed to speak with a voice that rumbled like an earthquake, its words scoring the air around them, sharp and incomprehensible. It enveloped the old man, as if eating him, and Joe felt a sickening certainty that he was next.
The irony made him wince: killed on a ghost hunt, a real one—the ratings potential would be astronomical—but no one would know, and when he didn’t show up for taping the next day, the show would be as dead as he was.
Everything went black. Joe was sure this was the end, when something flashed—light on metal, shining, cutting through the dark. The smoke began to pull back, and he could see Abraham standing there, holding a large, heavy-looking medallion. He raised it up to the smoke, and it recoiled.
“Utukku! Hades! Kokytos!” Abraham chanted strange words, holding the medallion up to the writhing smoke. “Osiris! Eshu! Mictlantecuhtli! Guede!” He took a step toward it, seeming to push it backward and down with the force of his words. “Aipaloovik! Asto-Vidatu! Namtar! Azrael!” Joe felt the air within the cave shudder as the smoke began to lose shape, folding in upon itself. “Magwayen! Fan Wujiu! Yeomra! Erio! Xargi! Thanatos!” Now Abraham was standing directly over the spot where he’d built the small fire, the smoke thinning before him, dwindling. “Odin! Arawn! Aita! Chitragupta! Whiro!” Falling to his knees, Abraham smashed the medallion down onto the coals, smothering them and quenching the smoke entirely.
Silence.
Joe could see the old man’s back moving as he drew in deep draughts of air, like a winded runner at the end of his race. He waited for what felt like a long time before, finally, he ventured a few steps forward. When Abraham didn’t move, Joe crossed the short distance to him and put his hand on his shoulder.
“Abe? Abraham?” He shook his shoulder gently. “Are you alright?”
Abraham leaned back, pulling the sooty medallion off the pile of burnt sticks and sitting back on the ground. “We’re not quite done,” he said, still sounding a little breathless.
Five minutes later Joe was standing at the back of the cave, holding a smoldering bunch of dried herbs, waving it up and down and turning in a slow circle.
“Cleansing your work space is an important part of any job,” Abraham said to him, as he gathered things from the ground and put them into his satchel. “That’s one of the first lessons you must learn.”
“First?” Joe paused in his movement and turned back around to face Abraham.
“Keep going, keep going,” Abraham waved his arm at him. “All things in good time.”
When Joe had gone in a complete circle and Abraham had all his things tucked away, they clambered down from the cave to the rocky path, heading back the way they came. They walked in silence all the way back to town, stopping at the first street light.
“Here I leave you,” Abraham said, extending his hand. “Thank you for your help.”
Joe took his hand and shook it without thinking. “What the hell was all that?” he stuttered out, as the older man let go of his hand. “What were those things you were saying? What was that smoke?” Joe felt questions bubbling up through the silence and shock of the past several hours, but closed his mouth when Abraham held up his other hand.
“It is nearly sunrise. Now is not the time for questions.” He smiled with the corners of his eyes again. “Go and do your work. See what happens. Perhaps another night we shall meet again, and then you will ask your questions. In the meantime,” he stepped backward so that he stood outside the pool of light from the streetlamp, his face shadowed now, only his eyes still visible, “I have business elsewhere.”
Joe saw him turn and go, watched as he seemed to evaporate into the shadows even as the first blushing light of dawn crept over the rooftops of the town.
He realized that he was freezing. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned to walk back to his hotel.
Inside his pocket, his left palm curved around something. He pulled it out to see what it was.
Catching the morning light, a circular metal disc rested in his hand. It was heavy, marked with intersecting lines that formed a pattern in the center, around which there were words—names? Was it Latin?
It left sooty streaks on his fingers. He held it up, turned it over, traced the patterns etched in iron.
He shivered.
Placing it back in his pocket and looking one last time over his shoulder, the held onto the medallion, walking the last silent steps to his room.
7
Séance
“They’re here! They’re here!”
Looking out of her bedroom window, Amelia watched the cars pull up to the front of her house, delivering her five best friends carrying sleeping bags, pillows, and over-night bags. Her little brother Sam was dancing on his tiptoes at the threshold to her room.
“I know, Sam,” she said into the window, seeing her friends greet each other as they traipsed to the front door, waiving to their parents as the cars pulled away. One of them looked up toward her bedroom window, saw her silhouetted there and waived, squealing her name. Amelia grinned and waived back.
“This is a girls’ sleepover—no boys allowed,” she said as she hurried past her little brother on her way down to greet them. “Especially seven-year-old brothers!”
“I know…” he sniffed sadly, but Amelia knew their parents had promised him that he could stay up and watch any movie he wanted, so she wasn’t going to feel too sorry for him.
Dharma and Jess were standing arm in arm in front of the door, with Tabia, Meg and Bryony trotting up behind them, laughing because Meg had nearly tripped over a pine cone, and everything is funny when you’re with your best friends on the first Friday night of summer.
Giggles and conversation spilled inside with them, through the door and up the stairs. Tossing aside bags and pillows, they were hugging and laughing and talking all at once. Today was Amelia’s 11th birthday, but they were also there to celebrate the end of their 5th grade year. Tabia pulled something out of her backpack and hid it behind her back.
“Guess what I’ve got!” she exclaimed.
“Tabby,” Amelia protested. “We said no presents! Tonight is just for being together and having fun!” The other girls got quiet. They’d followed the no presents rule. What if Tabia had gone and brought something for Amelia, after all?
“No, no, silly,” Tabia laughed. “Look!” She held out a large wooden box.
“What is it?” Bryony asked, stepping closer, reaching out to touch it.
Tabia sat on the floor and set the box down in front of her. “Open it,” she said to Amelia.
It was about twelve inches square, and the wood was dark with age, carved in a leafy relief worn smooth around the edges. “It’s pretty,” Amelia said, lifting the lid. Inside. it was lined in purple velvet. One of the girls said, “Oooh!” and Meg ran her finger tips over the soft fabric. Nestled in the velvet was a rectangular piece of wood, and beside it a rounded triangle with a glass piece in its center. Amelia looked around at the other girls, and then at Tabia. “What is it?”
“None of you guys have seen something like this before?” They all shook their heads. “Look,” Tabia lifted the wood out and unfolded it, showing that it was hinged, and inside covered with symbols, letters, and numbers. “It’s a Ouija board!”
Dharma gasped and Jess made a hissing sound.
“What’s Ouija?” Bryony asked.
“Just silly superstition,” Jess said, reaching for the triangle piece. “See here? You put this on the board,” she demonstrated as she spoke, “and everyone is supposed to touch it at the same time.”
“Oh yeah! I’ve heard of these things,” Amelia exclaimed. “Then you ask it questions, and the spirits push it around while everyone is touching it, answering the questions by spelling things out!”
Jess rolled her eyes. “It’s ridiculous. Totally fake.”
Amelia grinned at Tabia. “I love things like this! Thanks for bringing it.”
Tabia nodded. “I knew you’d like it. We promised no presents, but since it is your birthday, I thought we could do something fun that you’d like, something unusual.”
“Something we’ll always remember,” Bryony said quietly, picking up the pointer piece and turning it over in her hands, looking at it closely.
“How do we do it? Are there rules?” Dharma asked.
“How can there be rules to something that’s make-believe?” Jess folded her arms and rolled her eyes again.
“Oh, come on, Jess,” Amelia playfully shoved her shoulder.
“You don’t have to be the science geek 24 hours a day,” Bryony looked over her glasses at Jess, like a grumpy librarian. Dharma giggled. “Just think of it as a game—games don’t have to be true, they’re just fun!”
Tabia answered Dharma’s earlier question. “Sure, there are rules. My grandmother taught me. It has to be dark. We will need a candle. We have to sit in a circle. And there’s an ancient incantation to say before we ask questions and lay hands on the planchette.” She wiggled her fingers dramatically.
Dharma shivered. “Sounds kinda scary.”
“Well first,” Amelia said, standing up and pulling Dharma up with her. “Mom’s got pizza in the oven. And then cake and ice cream!”
*******
By the time they were done eating, night had fallen. Fireflies hovered in the darkness under the trees, and a sliver of moon was visible overhead.
“Is it dark enough for your Ouija game now?” Meg asked, dipping her fingers in a puddle of melted ice cream on her plate and licking them.
“I think so,” Tabia squinted out the window, “I can see the moon and a couple of stars, even though there’s still a little light out there.”
“The purple hour,” Dharma put in, “that’s what my auntie calls this time of night.” Her aunt had recently come from India to live with them, and Dharma worshipped her.
“Where should we do it?” Amelia asked.
Tabia pursed her lips. “I think outside, close to nature. Grandma says the natural world is the best place to reach out to the Spirits.”
Jess snorted, and Bryony elbowed her in the ribs. “It’s not too humid tonight,” she said. “And I saw fireflies earlier---it’d be so magical to be surrounded by fireflies, with the stars above us…”
“I’ll get a candle,” Amelia pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. “Anything else we need?”
15 minutes later all six girls went out the back door, down the stairs and headed into the gloom of the woods behind the house. Dharma had a baggie with a small slice of pizza that Tabia said to bring. Meg carried a thick, wool blanket for them to sit on. Bryony had a white pillar candle and matches. Tabia led the procession, carrying her box.
“We need to find a place away from the lights of your house,” she said as they passed the first trees.
“Look out for poison ivy!”
Meg stumbled. “There’s a big tree branch there, you guys.”
“Eew, I just stepped on something mushy!”
There was a chorus of disgusted shrieks and laughter.
They crossed a small stream, each taking her turn walking across a narrow plank, and followed the landscape as it descended gently into a kind of gully, then climbed again. Finally, Tabia stopped. She looked around, nodding, as the other girls caught up. “This looks good.”
They were well beyond the outskirts of the woods. A thick screen of trees made any of the neighborhood houses invisible, though the sounds of suburbia still dimly reached them: somewhere music played, and they could hear cars driving by, distantly and out of sight.
But close around them crowded the evening murmurs of woodland: frogs peeping, the gentle trickling of the stream they’d crossed to get there, and winking in and out of sight, fireflies.
“It’s perfect,” Bryony sighed.
They spread the blanket on the ground and sat in a circle. Amelia found a flat stone and put it in the middle, placing the candle on it. Tabia opened the box, took out the board, unfolded it, and put it next to the candle. She set the planchette in the center of the board, then looked around at the other girls.
“My grandma told me there’s a way to do this,” she began, “that she learned from her grandmother, and was passed to her from her grandmother. She says the tools have changed, but the tradition of spirit talking goes all the way back to Africa, and our ancestors were shamans before slavery took them.”
“Does your grandma talk to spirits now?” Meg asked eagerly.
“Only when she needs to,” Tabia nodded. “She says it’s not to be over-done, but it’s all right to reach out from time to time.”
“So how do we do this?” Amelia pushed up her sleeves and leaned forward.
“First we light the candle.”
Dharma picked up the matches, struck one and held it to the wick. Soon the candle glowed. Shadows danced over their faces.
“Dharma, put the pizza beside the candle.”
“What’s it for?”
“It’s our offering to the spirits.”
“I hope they like pepperoni,” Jess giggled. Bryony told her to hush.
“Everyone scoot in,” Tabia instructed, “We all have to be able to put our fingers on the planchette.”
The girls drew closer till their knees were touching.
“Now I have to say an opening prayer— “
“I think it’s called an invocation,” Jess interrupted.
“How would you know?” Bryony demanded. “I thought you didn’t believe in this kind of thing!”
“Just because I think it’s nonsense doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about it,” Jess lifted her chin defiantly. “Ignorance is no substitute for— “
“Okay, okay,” Amelia patted her on the knee and smiled. “We get it, Jess, we do.”
Tabia cleared her throat and shot a severe look at Jess. “The spirits can refuse to come if someone is an unbeliever,” she said. “If you really want to be scientific about this, Jess, you have to keep an open mind.”
Jess sighed.
Tabia nodded, then straightened her back and closed her eyes, holding her hands out to either side. “Everyone hold hands,” she commanded. Then, in a sing-song voice, she chanted,
“E bah shay A-goon
E-bah shay a-way
E-ray ala-fee-ya
E-ray lear-ray
E-ray oh-re ray
A-way mo dew-pa-we ah-shay
O beloved Spirits,
We bring you gifts from life into death.
Commune with us and move among us.”
There was a hush among them for a few moments. Then Bryony whispered, “That was beautiful. What was it?”
“An ancient Yoruban song to honor and welcome ancestors,” Tabia whispered back. “Grandma taught me. Now,” she eyed each girl in the circle, “we’ve opened the door, and it’s time to ask a question. Then we each place a finger on the planchette and see if we receive an answer!”
“What should we ask?”
“Let’s make it simple.”
“I don’t know…”
“What about, ‘Is there anyone out there?’” Jess spoke up. The other girls nodded. Tabia closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, and repeated the question in a deep voice. Opening her eyes, she placed the forefinger of her right hand on the edge of planchette and nodded at the others to do the same.
It was quiet. With wide eyes, the girls watched the triangle beneath their fingers, each of them aware of the distant noises of daily life. A dog barked somewhere. There was the whispering sound of water nearby and a gentle wind moving the tree branches overhead. Suddenly Meg gasped, “Oh!”
