Chapter 2
2004 Words
2
We ate dinner and found a couple of clean sets of clothing. The address for Madam Bentley’s house was across town and closer to the river in the larger-and-richer-house district. Victorian mansions towered over the cool floating waters of the swift river. Their dark back lawns stretched toward the river’s edge and sank beneath the white beaches. The front lawns were small and abutted the cracked sidewalks of yesteryear.
A half-dozen expensive cars were parked on the curb in front of Madam Bentley’s home. The lights of her mansion glowed brightly in the dark evening sky and welcomed her guests. Orion and I strode onto the small wrap-around porch and paused before the door.
I glanced at him. “Is there anything I need to know about this woman before I meet her?”
He smiled. “Not really. She’s just another normal occupant of Apple Hollow.”
I snorted and knocked on the door. “There’s no such thing as normal in this place.”
We heard footsteps approach the door. The entrance opened and revealed an old woman. She appeared to be just shy of Methuselah’s age with her thin strands of white hair and so many wrinkles she would make a basset hound jealous. She was short, barely five foot tall, and her gnarled hands with long, sharp fingernails grasped the knob of the door. Her attire was a simple black dress, and atop her head was a small, round felt hat only slightly taller than a beret.
She arched an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”
I held out our tickets. “We’re here for the seance.”
The woman furrowed her brow, but accepted the tickets and looked them over. She slowly shook her head. “How strange.”
I frowned. “What is?”
She raised her eyes and looked from Orion to me. “I didn’t invite either of you to the seance.”
“They look like old tickets,” Orion spoke up. “Or could they be forgeries?”
She held them up to the light of a lamp on the wall to her right. After a quick perusal she shook her head. “No, these are most definitely mine, but you’re right when you say they’re old. I only ever order eleven to make an even number at the table, and this year is no different.” She lowered her arms and glanced at us. “Even is lucky, you know.”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t know, but could you tell us who might have missed one of your famous seances?”
She shook her head. “No. They weren’t well-attended when I started them fifty years ago, and someone might have kept one by accident.”
Orion furrowed his brow and raised his hand with the fingers outstretched. He counted down several times. “Eleven guests plus two makes thirteen. Not a very lucky number any more, is it?”
I elbowed him and smiled at Madam Bentley. “If this is going to be a problem we can-” She held up her wizened old hand and shook her head.
“On the contrary, this may be fate working its web over us.” She stepped to the side and swept her hand over the entrance hall. “In such a case, I must insist you come inside.”
“Fate and a vanilla envelope. . .” I murmured as we stepped inside.
Madam Bentley closed the door and stepped in front of us. “Please follow me. Everyone else is already in the parlor.”
We followed the madam down the hall to a large parlor at the back of the house. The large shelves bespoke the room’s original purpose as a library, but the rest of the decor was more mystical. Many of the shelves were filled with tomes about the occult and witchcraft. The windows opposite the entrance were covered by thick black cloth curtains. A chandelier hung from the high ceiling and black hoods over the light bulbs muffled the light to give the air in the room a foggy appearance.
A round table stood in the center of the room over a large rug outlined with the symbols of the zodiac. Twelve chairs were positioned around the table, and in front of one of them was a crystal ball and a pack of cards.
The other eleven guests stood in small groups around the room. I didn’t recognize any of them, but from their fancy evening attire I guessed we moved in not only different circles, but probably different squares, too. All of them glanced in our direction. More than a few frowned.
Madam Bentley walked over to the table and clapped her hands. The quiet murmuring of her guests stopped. She gestured to the table. “Now that everyone has arrived, if everyone would take their seats we will begin.”
One of the older gentlemen nodded at us. “Who are they?”
Our hostess smiled and turned to us. “These are two surprise guests for the evening.”
“But I thought this was only for eleven,” another man spoke up.
Madam Bentley nodded. “Often, yes, but as they have tickets we will accept the amendment for this year.”
A woman with a large fan fanned herself and stared down her long nose at us. “Just as long as they don’t interfere with my time with Snookums.”
Madam Bentley set her hands on the woman’s shoulders and smiled. “Should I connect with your lovely Pomeranian I will ensure you have ample time with him.”
The guests fears allayed, they strode toward the table.
Orion raised his hand. “Ghosting before midnight? Isn’t that against the rules?” The other guests paused and turned to glare at him. I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow. He winced and shakily smiled at the group. “Sorry.”
“While midnight is a strong hour to capture the spirits, with my powers we need no set time,” Madam Bentley assured him as everyone took a seat.
Orion and I took our seats between a thin young woman with a pale face, and a heavy-set man in a tight blue suit. Madam Bentley slipped into the seat with the cards and ball.
She tapped her finger on the pack. “Would anyone care to hear their fortunes before we begin? A mere twenty dollars to know the future.”
The first older gentleman to speak about us glanced at the woman to his left. She was his age, but very plump and with bright but empty eyes. They wore matching wedding rings. “I’ll pass,” he commented.
“I would,” the former Pomeranian owner spoke up.
Madam Bentley pulled the cards from the pack and shuffled them like a professional poker player. “That is good, for I see a dark cloud above you.”
“She should get her own personal weather forecaster for that,” Orion quipped. Another of his ribs were bruised, courtesy of my elbow.
Our hostess finished her shuffling and doled out eight cards face-down in two rows of four in front of her. She flipped over the one in the top-left corner, and I saw they were tarot cards.
“This is your past. You have had much grief with you pets,” Madam Bentley commented.
“Everyone knows she’s been through more dogs than a kennel club. . .” I heard the portly man on Orion’s left side mutter.
The woman dabbed her eyes with a silk handkerchief. “Yes, it’s true. I’ve lost so many of my babies.”
Madam Bentley flipped over five more cards, making six of them face-up. “I see more sorrow in your future, but great joy.”
The woman sniffled. “Will I. . .will I see my babies again?”
Our hostess flipped the last two cards. One of them I recognized as the Death card, and the word itself was scrawled beneath the image of the Grim Reaper. “I see you living to a ripe old age and joining them in the afterlife. You will take them for walks.”
The woman smiled through her tears. “They always loved their walks.” She sniffled and dabbed her eyes. “Thank you, Madam Bentley, for giving me such comfort.”
Bentley shuffled the cards and smiled at the rest of us around the table. “Would anyone else like their fortunes told?”
The portly man raised his hand. “I’ll have my fortune told, if that’s what you call it.”
A tense hush fell over the room. The Pomeranian woman’s mouth dropped open. Others looked to our hostess.
Madam Bentley sat up and frowned. “What do you mean, Mr. Ambigo?”
He shrugged. “I just don’t see how this is any more than a guessing game, and you answered all her questions with vague replies that anybody could give.”
A dark look passed over her face. “Do you mean to insult me, sir?”
He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “I’m just saying I’m not impressed so far.”
Her eyes narrowed. “We didn’t you voice these concerns when you asked me for a seat?”
A sly smile curled onto his lips. “I thought you could prove me wrong. I guess I was wrong, but not in your favor.”
Madam Bentley slammed the cards down on the table and stood. “If you wish for a stronger display of my powers then we will move on to the summoning.” She marched over to the door and flicked off the light switch.
The room was plunged into darkness save for the crystal ball. It cast a bluish glow over those around the table and illuminated our faces with an unearthly hue. Our hostess resumed her seat and hovered her hands over the surface of the ball.
Her dark eyes flickered to Mr. Ambigo. “Do you wish to contact someone, sir?”
Ambigo opened his mouth, but the Pomeranian woman spoke up. “Please try to contact my Snookums!”
Ambigo smiled and gestured to the woman. “The night is young. Let her go first.”
“How kind of you, sir,” Bentley dryly replied as she ghosted her hands over the ball. She closed her eyes and tilted back her head. Her voice echoed through the dark, quiet room. “Spirits on the Other Side, please heed my call. Bring us news of Snookums.”
The light from the ball flickered and changed colors. Several of the guests gasped as a faint fog appeared above our heads. The fog shaped itself into the form of a small, fluffy dog. I jumped when the dog let out a loud, clear, high-pitched, really-annoying bark.
The woman’s eyes widened and a smile stretched across her lips. She stretched her hand out to the fog. “Snookums! Oh, my lovely little-” The dog quipped. Its foggy shape dissipated. The woman cried out and whipped her head to our host. “Madam Bentley, what’s happening? Where is my Snookums going?”
Madam Bentley’s eyes were rolled back and her mouth was agape. A strange groaning noise issued deep from her throat. One of the people beside her reached out to shake her shoulder.
Ambigo stood so fast his chair flew back and clattered onto the floor. He stretched out his hand toward the man. “Don’t touch her!” The guest froze and joined the rest of us in blinking at the man. “She’s in a deep trance. Touching her might kill her, or worse.”
The color drained from the Pomeranian woman’s face. “What could be worse than killing her?”
He looked up at the swiveling vortex of fog above our heads and pursed his lips. “I don’t think we want to find out.”
A thick scent of pumpkin spice filled the room. The fog above us spun faster and faster. The fog shaped itself into a human form. Dark trousers emerged from the mist along with a vest and jacket. The physical features were those of a young man. His bright blue eyes were accentuated by the glow from the crystal ball.
They also looked straight at me.
The man mouthed a few words, but no sound came out. He pressed his hands against his chest to emphasize himself, and then he stretched them out toward me. I wasn’t great at lip-reading or guessing body gestures, but I could recognize a sign for help when one floated five feet above my head.
I stood and tilted my head back to look at the ghostly apparition. “What is it you want?”
“Stay seated!” Ambigo barked at me.
The ghost dropped its arms to its side and gazed into my eyes. A horrible mixture of sadness and fear flooded my thoughts. My body fell into a stupor. I didn’t even have the will to fight as the spirit flew at me.
- Writer
