Intersections Read online

  “Come this way,” she said once I was ready. She led me into a parlor room where five other people sat around a very large table. “You may sit anywhere you like except at the end.”

  I chose one of the two empty spots between two ladies. The lights were dim and no one spoke. No one looked at me. They stared quietly ahead. I sat patiently with my hands in my lap. The heaviness of the room weighed on my shoulders like a million pounds.

  There was a candle in the middle of the table. A real candle, not an electric one. It flickered, casting shadows against the walls. Outside of the windows, the trees creaked, a car roared by, and the distant waves crashed.

  As my eyes grew accustomed to the light, I saw that there were several bookcases with many esoteric items on them among the books. There were several styles of Ouija boards and planchettes, talking boards, pendulums, tarot cards, and little statues that I couldn’t quite make out.

  At last, the final people arrived and the table was filled. The lights were dimmed further. Meredith entered the room once more.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you Natasha. She is your medium tonight.”

  A tall, pale woman entered the room. She was more beautiful than any Morticia and ten times more creepy. She didn’t walk, she glided. She took her place at the head of the table, her movement liquid as if she were oil on water. She spoke with a thick accent, maybe Romanian or Hungarian.

  “Good evening. I’m Natasha and I’ve been a medium for a very long time. I’ve made Hermana my home for many years. I enjoy holding séances for people who are searching for messages. I even enjoy holding them for those who don’t believe at all.” She stopped speaking and stared at me. Her gaze was sharp and I winced. “Please hold hands.”

  We all held hands, still strangers in the dark. Natasha led us through a bunch of traditional séance stuff. Calling out to the spirits, waiting for answers, as we sang, clapped, and so on.

  At last, there was a series of knocks that vibrated the table. The person holding my right hand gripped it tighter. The flickering candle illuminated beads of sweat breaking out on the forehead of the man across from me. The knocks were in some kind of pattern. They didn’t seem to be Morse. It amuses me that I even know Morse code, but of course, a magician has her tricks. I didn’t believe the knocks were anything of a supernatural nature and they weren’t a message in Morse code either. Yet, the nauseous feeling returned and in my mind, a darkness seeped in.

  The candle flame stretched long and thin, the flame reaching high towards the ceiling. Someone gasped. An older woman with red hair teased into a beehive looked around quickly.

  “Something touched me,” a woman said. “On the shoulder.”

  We continued to hold hands as we looked around the room and behind each other. The vibrations in the room seemed to shift. A mist rose over by the bookshelves where the crystal balls and Ouija boards were displayed. We looked back at the candle. My stomach lurched. The dizziness returned. There were voices arguing in my head. I looked around, wondering if there was a radio being piped in.

  “Do you feel anything else?” Natasha’s warm voice sliced through the darkness.

  “I have the chills now. Goosebumps,” a young woman with long blond hair whispered.

  “Ah, the spirits are here,” Natasha said. I shivered. The air in the room shifted again. A wave of cool mixed in with the previous sudden heat and through it all, the arguing voices. The effects were easy enough to manipulate. The house could be full of people fiddling with fans and thermostats. Transmitters. Radios. I bet if I asked aloud, others would describe the voices. There was more knocking. It didn’t scare me one bit. However, some of the others were falling for it hook, line, and sinker.

  “There is someone here. Someone coming through,” Natasha said in her thick Hungarian accent. The candle flickered wildly. The room grew brighter for a moment, as if there was a bonfire in the middle of the table instead of a candle. The faces around me illuminated for a moment. A mosaic of people from so many walks of life. One woman had tears running down her face. I wondered if she too had been touched. The nattering voices stopped. The only sounds were breathing or rather, breath being held in anticipation.

  Something tugged my hair. I let out a yelp. My cry startled several others who also shuffled and gasped. I looked around but my partners were still holding my hands tight in theirs. Then, something was tickling at my neck. I pulled my hand away to swat at it. For a moment, it felt like something solid clasped my hand. Something that wasn’t there. It held tight for a moment, and then released me.

  I looked for wires, for people, but there was nothing in the shadows to give an explanation. I settled down and held hands once more. The mist by the bookcase grew larger, rolling in on itself.

  The hair on my arms burned as if I were standing too close to the fire. Again I pulled away my hands to rub at them.

  “I have come here with several others, to show you that there is indeed, more than what you see.” A flat woman’s voice with a New England accent spoke from Natasha’s mouth.

  “I’ve come here for five years and have never seen anything like this,” Beehive whispered in the dark. “My lord.”

  There was a crashing sound as something broke on the other side of the room. Several knick-knacks flew from the cabinets. The table shook.

  There were screams and gasps. Even I had let out a shout before I pulled myself together. I wasn’t going to succumb to the panic of the herd. I was in this business of freaking people out as well. I wondered again what kind of trick this was. A Halloween haunted house. The special effects were the best I’d ever seen, even on YouTube. There must have been mirrors to hide the wires. I looked up at the ornate patterned ceiling, shadows from the candle giving the illusion of tiny shadow devils dancing. Something was pulling my hair again. Hard.

  I stood up, wrestling with whatever was there. Several others had stood as well, struggling with unseen forces.

  As I flailed around, Natasha slowly stood up, her pale hands glowing in the darkness as they gripped the table.

  “Enough!” Her voice had returned to her thick European accent.

  Meredith snapped on the lights.

  “What’s going on?” Meredith asked. “I was ironing upstairs and heard so much noise.”

  Natasha smoothed out her velvet dress, her thin figure gliding towards Meredith.

  “The spirits were very active tonight. They put on quite a show.”

  Meredith nodded. She looked around the room.

  “Is everyone okay? Who came through this time?”

  “The usual ones were there but there was also a new one. A new spirit, perhaps two, that I’ve not encountered before. They were dark with ill intention so I decided we call it a night.”

  “I don’t want to call it a night,” Beehive said loudly. “I came here to speak with my cousin. I’m sure he’s the one who touched me.”

  “Your cousin was here, yes. He misses you but says not to worry about him. He’s at peace now,” Natasha said.

  Beehive smiled. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. You must continue on with your life. He wants that.”

  “Yes, I have been. I have so much to tell him. His advice has been spot on. Can I speak with him? Is he still here?” Beehive looked hopefully around the room.

  Natasha shook her head.

  “Not now. We had to stop tonight. Too much evil in the room. It’s not fair to the pure.” Natasha said, her face stern as she looked over the clients. “We must keep it fair.”

  “That’s wise. You know what can happen if you invite in the wrong ones,” Meredith said as she helped her guests find their belongings.

  The whole exchange sounded so phony to me. It takes a con to spot a con. I had no idea how they pulled my hair and burned my arms. Wires of some sort. It had to be. Elaborate hoax.

  Every séance was likely exactly the same. Meredith returned my phone and purse from the lockers and I headed towards the door with the others.