“Well, guys, I’m getting—” I start to say, when a series of things happen.
Maggie drifts past Kyle right as he blows out a puff of smoke. Directly into her face. It happens in slow motion. The cloud floats up her nose. Her eyes shutter closed and her nose twitches. Her face scrunches in an effort to stop the inevitable.
No, no, no…
But no amount of prayer can stop the sneeze that explodes out of her. I can only imagine what it’s like for the rest of the table. A few cards fly inexplicably. Kyle jerks violently. Maggie jumps back, hands covering her face—eyes wide and terrified.
“Holy shit.” Craig’s eyeing the cards.
Viktor glares at the area. “What was it?”
“Something brushed against me and those cards fucking moved. Look, dude.” Kyle points to his arms where goose bumps raise the hairs. “I’m freaked out.”
Zebulund stays quiet. He studies the cards. There’s no way he missed it—he’s right across the table.
“The air clicking on,” I offer.
“No.” Kyle’s head shakes with determination. “I’m telling you. I felt something. And earlier I swear I saw a face in the smoke. The shape of it.”
It takes all my acting skills to not look at Maggie again. She paces with arms wrapped tight around herself in my periphery.
“This reminds me of this time I was like thirteen,” Craig pipes in. “I crashed my little sister’s birthday party and they were doing some weird voodoo in the dark, and I swear they called something evil. Like, into the room. I could sense it and then a framed picture fell off the wall and shattered.”
“Totally,” Kyle says. “The basement of the house I grew up in was haunted.” He talks with such enthusiasm the table shakes. “Every time I went there I got chills and sensed something, you know?”
“Careful, you know Marty doesn’t like that ghost talk.” Viktor’s half slumped in his chair, one drink away from passing out right there.
The other men’s eyes widen and they glance to Zebulund before pointedly avoiding him. Zebulund tilts his head and smiles with extra teeth.
“All in good fun. But let’s continue the game, shall we?” The question is for me.
I dealt the hand, so I ask Kyle, “Your bet?”
“Check,” he responds and I keep going around. After a few minutes, I make my way to the bathroom, making sure Maggie follows. Once the door closes, she comes Up to wrap herself in a towel I’m holding.
“I have a really great idea.” She grins.
I already know I won’t like it.
* * *
Maggie
Roe slumpsout of the bathroom and back to the card game. He’s not happy with me. He’s especially not a fan of this plan. Well, he’s going to have to deal, because this is all we’ve got right now. This is something we can work with. I’ll turn a stupid mistake into our advantage. We both saw how Zebulund tensed with the ghost stories. We heard Viktor’s little comments. We know there’s something going on that we aren’t privy to. I’m about to find out what that is. And if I freak the living crud out of the scum bucket, then added bonus.
After a couple more minutes in the bathroom and taking some very unladylike gulps from the sink, I go back to Roe and the other guys at the table.
Even though I’m exhausted and this is the longest I’d ever gone Under and Up in one day, we can’t stop now. We’re close to getting something. The testosterone and fear in that room are culminating to some sort of breaking point.
Roe’s still doing a good job of pretending that I’m not there. As they deal another hand of poker, I decide what to do first. Clearly, the weakest link here is Viktor, but if I start with him, he may crack too soon.
Instead, I grab the back of Kyle’s chair with both hands and shake it once with all my might. They’re big barrel-cut style seats, upholstered with rich brown leather. My shove is enough to cause Kyle to jump. A flush spreads up his cheeks and down his neck. His hand shakes as he reaches for his beer. But to his credit, he doesn’t say anything. Roe pointedly acts like he doesn’t see it. Only Craig looks Kyle’s way. He studies his friend without comment, slowly twirling the toothpick around in his mouth before returning his attention to the game.
Well, that decides who’s up next. I saunter over to Craig, the lawyer. He munches obnoxiously on a handful of trail mix, all while the toothpick remains shoved to the side of his mouth. He tilts his head back to dump another palmful into his mouth. I bump his hand, causing it to hit his chin and send food flying. To keep my laughter from being noticed, I step back a few paces. The expression on his face is priceless. He grips the edge of the table like the world is spinning. His chest heaves up and down as he chews. Zebulund notices the food flying, though.
“You okay?” he asks.
The other guys glance up too, and the conversation slows again. Craig looks to Kyle. Kyle responds with a subtle head shake that Zebulund barely misses.
