Slow Dance in Purgatory

One of the girls protested, “Get him out, guys. You’re so mean! We can’t just leave him up here all alone!” Shad could hear her faintly as the footfalls grew farther away. She must have been overruled or reassured, because no one came back and let him out. He yelled after them, begging them to change their minds, promising them that they would be sorry, but silence was his only response. Shad breathed slowly, trying to keep the hysteria from overpowering him. There were slats in the door. At least he wouldn’t die for lack of oxygen, which provided some small comfort, but it was very small comfort indeed.

The locker smelled like sweaty socks and beef jerky. The sneaker on his right foot was wedged at an odd angle, tweaking his ankle which was already throbbing like a bad tooth. He tried to pull his foot free, but didn’t have enough room to even scratch his butt. He wiggled his other foot until it rested on the bottom of the locker. Pressing down, he released his weight from the foot that was torqued and managed to relieve the pressure by several degrees. That was better. He tried butting his head into the locker door, thinking maybe he could pop it back open. It didn’t work, and before long he was seeing stars, and his head hurt almost as badly as his ankle.

“I’m too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy..” Shad’s ring tone jangled merrily from his back pocket. His heart leaped joyfully in his chest. His phone was still in his pocket! He wiggled and shimmied violently, trying to work at least one of his arms down and around his body. His phone stopped ringing. He kept squirming and was just about there when his phone, loosened by his writhing and wiggling, dropped from his pocket and hit his left shoe with a dull thud. Shad felt the tears welling up in his eyes and clogging his throat.

“Super strength, super flexibility, super skills,” he repeated to himself, pushing the tears away. The phone started ringing again. There was no way he could squat down enough now to grab it. There wasn’t enough clearance for his knees to bend. He was going to have to work a miracle with his big feet. He put pressure back on his wedged foot and pulled the other foot back, pressing his heel into the side of the locker, wincing in pain he tried to peel his foot out of his shoe. Little by little he pulled his foot free.

***

Tasha placed the candles in a large circle, and she and the other girls lit them, one by one, until they reflected a burnished glow off the highly waxed stage. The boys sat in the center of the circle, ringed by the candles. They had decided on the auditorium because it was fairly close to the back entrance in case they had to make a speedy getaway, and there were no windows to reveal their clandestine activities to someone passing by, as Shad had so wisely pointed out before they had turned on him.

The boys had pulled out a Ouija board and were avoiding it studiously, waiting for the girls to finish setting the stage. Everyone was feeling a little spooked. The candlelight created flickering shadows and unsettling illusions dancing over the black curtains circling the stage. They huddled together uncomfortably, wondering what to do next, most of them wishing the whole thing was behind them. Derek had disappeared a few minutes earlier, and no one really wanted to take the initiative to start without him.

They all jumped, and one girl screamed when the big double doors swung open, and Derek trundled down the center aisle pulling a cooler of beer and some harder stuff that he’d stashed outside the service entrance earlier that evening. Everyone cheered at the sight of the booze, and the mood was immediately elevated. Cracking the tabs, the ten teenagers took long sips of liquid courage, and the amateur séance began.

They started asking simple yes and no questions. Are you a spirit? Did you die here? Are you haunting the school? Derek tried to control the responses, pushing and pulling the dial when he wanted a certain answer. Dara accused him of doing just that and slapped him, knocking his drink out of his hands. He had only drunk half of it, and it splashed over the stage in a wide arc, liberally dousing the curtains behind them. He just laughed and popped the tab on another. Dara stomped off to the corner and threatened to leave. However, she didn’t have her own wheels, and nobody was in the mood for her attitude. Plus, everyone had loosened up considerably, and they were all starting to enjoy themselves. They just ignored Dara, but made sure Derek wasn’t holding the board any longer.

“Are you Johnny Kinross?” Tasha asked, taking the lead in the questioning. The dial slowly spelled out ‘no.’

“Who are you?” Trevor piped in, sipping the foam off his third beer. Tasha repeated the question to the board. There was no movement on the board.

“Maybe we can only ask it yes and no questions,” Tasha wrinkled her nose doubtfully. None of them had ever played with a Ouija board before.

“What was the other guy’s name? The younger brother?”

“Billy, right?” Trevor offered.

“Are you Billy Kinross?”

The board spelled out N-O.

“Is your name Casper?” Someone asked sarcastically, laughing uproariously at their own joke.

The board didn’t respond.