The Dead House

“No,” Mike says, “not a chessboard, you spanner. A Ouija board.”


Both Juliet and Maggie lean away from it as though detecting a foul scent, but Brenda leans forward.

“Cool,” she whispers, eyes growing wide. “Communing with the dead—”

“This is lame,” Juliet says suddenly. “Ouija boards? You’re seniors! You’re supposed to have the best parties.”

Mike turns to look lazily at her. “Piss off, you little priss.”

She reddens. “This sucks ass.” She says it defiantly, but the words seem unfamiliar in her mouth. “I’m not playing Ouija. I need some air.”

“I’ll go with you,” Maggie offers.

Juliet rolls her eyes. “Don’t bother.” She glances at Brett, who still hasn’t moved from the sofa, scowls at Mike—who grins broadly—then abruptly turns and leaves, slamming the front door.

“You don’t play Ouija,” Brenda says at the same time that Mike says, “What’s her problem?”

Maggie reddens but lifts her chin. “Not enough attention for her, I think.”

Brenda laughs. “Too right. And you? You in with the big kids?”

Maggie grins and wanders over to the small group. “I’m in.”

“Let’s do this bitch,” Brett says unexpectedly from the sofa. “I’m bored. You in, Johnson?”

Kaitlyn glances over, a smile still on her face. “Huh?”

“Ouija board. You up for it? Talking to the dead?”

“We can talk to your parents!” Maggie says loudly, gleefully.

“Shut it,” Brett snaps.

“Just because you fancy her,” Maggie returns, and Brenda grins.

Kaitlyn’s face is like stone, but Ari takes her hand and pulls her to her feet. He whispers something in her ear, and she laughs. “You’re right.”

“Come on, then,” Brenda says, getting up from the sofa, revealing Mike’s arm. “Enough time for drama later. How do we work this thing?”

Brett holds out his hand. “Give it here. I know how to use it.”

Mike laughs, but gives the board over. “Some kind of expert on communing with spirits?”

Brett ignores him and unclips the Ouija board, folding it flat on the coffee table. Two small items fall out of the board onto the floor. He sits down on the floor in front of it, frowning.

Brenda sits beside Mike, reaching out to touch the board. “This isn’t a Ouija board.”

The board has no letters on it, only symbols like runes.

“Yeah, it’s different,” Maggie says. “The one my brother has looks different.”

Brett glances over at Kaitlyn. “Carly? Um, Ari? You in?”

Kaitlyn stumbles a little as she walks over and sits down heavily next to Brett, Ari on her other side.

“Where’s the pointer?”

“Here,” Mike says, bending down to pick it up. “And there’s this.” He holds out a small velvet pouch.

Brett takes it, opens it, and pours out the contents. “Mala runes.”

“Well, that’s useless,” Brenda mutters. “We won’t be able to even read what it spells out.”

“Maybe get Naida?” Maggie offers, but everyone ignores her.

“Okay,” Brett says, “everyone put your finger on.”

Maggie rolls her eyes. “Why? It’s not like we’ll understand what those runes mean.”

“Just watch. Put your fingers on.”

Everyone does so.

“We six wish to, um, commune? With whoever is out there—whoever is dead and out there.”

Maggie snorts, and Brenda shushes her. Brett’s face and neck flush, but he continues. “This rune”—he places a red stone to the left of the board—“means no. And this one”—he places a green one to the right—“means yes. Please indicate that you understand.”

Nothing happens.

“Maybe we have to commune with someone… specific?” Maggie suggests. “Like, someone dead?”

Brenda bounces in her seat. “Who should we commune with first?”

“Whoever’s there,” Kaitlyn murmurs.

“Agreed,” Brett says. “Let’s just see who’s around, shall we?”

Mike nods.

“Whoever you are, talk to us. Indicate you understand.”

Nothing happens, and they glance at one another with grins.

“If not yes or no,” Brenda adds, “then choose one of us. Choose to talk to one of us.”

Maggie shrieks as the pointer moves.

Brenda throws her hands over her ears. “Ow! Just deafen me, why don’t you!”

“Sorry.”

“Get your fingers on here,” Mike says, his voice waspish and low. “It’s still moving!”

The group stares at the pointer as it moves ever so slowly.

“Are you doing this?” Brenda asks Mike, a grin plastered to her face.

“No, I’m bloody well not. Keep hold of it!”

“You asshole,” she says, laughing.

“I told you I’m not doing it!”

“Then Brett’s doing it!”

Brett scowls. “No, I’m not!”

She rolls her eyes and folds her arms, unwilling to put her fingers on the pointer. “Let go of it, then.”

Brett glances at everyone for a moment and then lets go. All of them follow, even a grinning Kaitlyn, who seems more than a little tipsy.