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She took a long, flattish box from the bag and started pulling off the plastic shrink-wrap that sealed it. It looked like a board game. I didn’t catch the title until Jules groaned and rolled not just his eyes, but his whole head, in a gesture of disgust.
“You’re joking!” he burst. “I’m not going to be a party to this. Gary, tell her. This is ridiculous. This is insane.”
It was a Ouija board, brand new, smelling of fresh plastic and cardboard.
“Hey,” I said. “We used to play that at sleepovers in the third grade.”
Glancing at me while she opened the board on the table, Tina said, “These can be really dangerous. You were lucky nothing happened. I assume nothing happened?”
“Not really. We always caught Susan Tate moving the thing around on her own. On the other hand, did you ever play Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board? Now that was freaky.”
Gary said, “That’s a simple trick of minor hypnotism.”
“Ah, another childhood illusion shattered. But you’re telling me the Ouija board is real.”
“I’ve had a little luck with it,” Tina said.
“And what do you mean by dangerous?” I asked.
She said, “Quite a few cases of suspected demon possession have been linked—”
“It’s rubbish!” Jules interrupted. “If we broadcast this, it’ll ensure that no one from the legitimate paranormal investigation community ever takes us seriously again.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Tina said. “Trust me.”
It was easy to discount her as just a pretty face—and I really should have known better. The others stared at her, like they were thinking the same thing. Like they’d never seen her like this before.
“What aren’t you telling us?” Gary said, wary.
“I’ve been using these since I was a kid,” Tina said. “It might be a way to find out what’s really going on.”
Whether or not a person could actually use something like a Ouija board to communicate with the beyond, or whatever, I found it hard to believe you could do it with a piece of mass-produced cardboard straight out of the packaging.
I said, “The commercial version works? Shouldn’t you be using one made of ancient wood, hand-lettered by gypsies from the Orient or something?”
She threw me a look. “The trouble with the old ones is you don’t know where they’ve been, what they’ve been used for. We know this one’s clean. Besides, it’s not the tool, it’
s the person who uses it.”
“Jules, if you don’t want to be a part of this, you can watch the monitors in the van,” Gary said.
“Fine,” Jules said, getting up to leave.
“And keep an eye open.”
“Of course,” Jules said brusquely. “I’m a professional.”
He marched outside to the van, where the team had set up the monitors and speakers they’d salvaged from the previous van’s wreckage.
The rest of us took seats around the table, with Tina facing the board. The planchette sat right in the middle, pointing toward her. I’d never have thought of her as a leader, but she took charge of the group without hesitation.
“Right. Here are the rules. Don’t move, don’t speak. I’ll do the talking. If you hear anything, see anything, stay seated. Don’t look, don’t move, don’t scream. As long as we stay in this circle, we’re safe. Got it?”
Scream? Gooseflesh sprung out on my arms, and I’d have sworn a draft passed through the room. The low chuckle of a demonic voice. Of course, everything Tina had just said was exactly what you’d say to people sitting around a Ouija board when you wanted to totally freak them out.
Gary was studying Tina, his brow furrowed. “There’s definitely something you’re not telling us.”
“Are we doing this or not?” Tina said. She was a little flushed. Nerves. Anticipation. Her fingers, resting before her on the table, almost seemed to be straining toward the board.
