The Seance

A skinny girl fell through an open window in the public library. She had hurt her knees a little, but had no trouble standing back up. She swept imaginary dust off her shoulder. ''See? Piece a’ cake!''

''Not so loud,'' rang a whisper from the outside, ''just open the door already!'' 

A paper white hand reached as far as it could into the window to deliver the girl a gift from beyond. A small flashlight.

''Man, you’re no fun,'' the girl had to jump but she got it. First try, too. Then, she switched it on.

The library was different at night. In this light, the old wooden bookshelves looked like they went on for infinity. Miles and miles of books, many worn out and many more brand new. A new infinity every two steps. Here was theology, algebra, geometry, biology, history, and so on, all stretching out into the darkness forever.

What’s more, it was dead silent. Quiet enough to make the girl’s ears ring. There was no idle chatter (there was always idle chatter in libraries, despite librarians’ best efforts) and the air conditioners have been switched off. The only other sound apart from the girl’s own sneakers softly squeaking as she walked on the noise absorbent carpet were the crickets buzzing through the window she climbed through. The one she had sneakily left ajar earlier that day before closing time.

Walking past the eternal bookshelves, the girl imagined herself between two mirrors facing each other. Or on a treadmill with a scrolling background, the type old timey movies used for chase scenes and such. She smiled sadly. She should come to the library more often. If only she had spent more time here with—

She caught herself. It wasn’t time for that. Not yet. There would be plenty of time after their little operation, whether it succeeded or not. But it would succeed. She knew it.

The girl eventually made her way to the library entrance. The tall mahogany library doors were held in place by a deadbolt lock. Thankfully, it was openable from the inside without needing a key. She turned the twist knob and opened one of the doors. All according to plan.

''Jesus, Claire! What took you so long? The patrol will be back soon! This is insane!'' said the pale boy with the big rectangular glasses.

''Oh would ya just relax! It’s all under control!,'' Claire looked around, ''say, where’s Mal?''

''He went to the lavatory,'' he used his thumb to point at the 711 across the street. One of the rare ones with a bathroom.

''Now?''

''Yes, now! The call of nature waits for no man!''

''Why didn’t ya tell ‘im to hold it in?''

''What and risk stretching his bladder? I don’t want that responsibility! Just imagine the hospital bills!''

Claire stifled a giggle. The boy noticed. It had been too long since she expressed any form of positive emotion. He let the moment hang a while. Maybe a little too long. He opened his mouth as if to say something but no words came out. 

''So,'' Claire cleared her throat.

The boy’s consciousness snapped back to reality, ''Ah, uhm, maybe we should begin preparations? Mal’s a guy, he’ll be here soon!''

''You got it, Elmer.''

Together they walked through the dark library looking for a suitable place. To be fair, it probably didn’t matter where exactly they held the ritual, as they were already in the library anyway. They just needed somewhere comfortable to sit. Somewhere close to the exits, just in case, but not too close as the candle light might be seen through a window. Also, perhaps somewhere obvious so Mal could catch up. They eventually settled on one of the more isolated spots in the reading section. It had cover on three sides, two adjacent bookshelves and a wall. The last side faced the tables in the reading area. It was perfect.

''Hey.''

Claire and Elmer held in their screams. The hairs on the backs of their necks prickled up and the blood rushed to their heads. It took a few seconds for their fight-or-flight responses to cool down and let them come to their senses. Claire slapped Mal on the shoulder, ''could you please maybe make a little more noise next time? Nearly had a heart attack!''

''Ah. Sorry,'' Mal, dressed in all black, blended in too well with the darkness. The only colorful part about his look was the streak of hair he had dyed red, and even that was growing out.

Claire looked at the messenger bag slung over Mal’s shoulder, ''well, did ya bring the stuff?''

''Yes,'' Mal carefully took the items out of his bag like he was sorting inventory in an RPG. Out came five herbal candles, five mason jars to place them in, a long matchbox, a ziplock bag for the used matches, a bundle of sage, and his mother’s old Ouija board.

''Wonderful,'' Claire produced a small book from her back pocket. A battered old copy of Melissa Eckhart’s Seances for Teens. ''Let’s set up then, shall we?''

They took the herbal candles and set them down in a circle. Elmer lit them one by one with the long matches, each time blowing on the match and dropping them into the ziplock. Meanwhile Claire was skimming through her book one more time. She had done tarot readings, palmistry, crystal balls, basic fortune telling stuff, but never a real live seance. And she couldn’t back down now. Not after convincing Mal and Elmer to come along.

They sat down facing each other cross-legged, shifting their weight until they were knee-to-knee. Then Claire unfolded the Ouija board on their laps. She could smell the age of the wood as the brass fittings creaked open. It was a standard Ouija board, albeit a very old one. One made before the times of mass-production. On it were two arcs of black letters, each containing half the alphabet, numbers one through ten, and the words : YES, NO, HELLO, and, GOODBYE.

''You guys ready?'' Claire asked her friends, holding the planchette in her shaking hand. Her friends shared a glance, then looked back at her and nodded. 

''Alright, just follow my lead,'' we're finally doing this, Claire thought as she placed the planchette on the Ouija board, ''think about Violet and put your hands on the planchette.''

So the three of them lightly placed fingertips from both of their hands on the planchette.

''Violet Escalona,'' Claire gulped, ''can you hear us? Are you there?''

Claire let the question hang in the air for a few seconds. 

''Is it working?'' asked Elmer.

''No movement so, no, not yet. I know it’s tough, but you guys really have to think about her. Think as hard as possible. Try to remember your best memories of her.''

Elmer sighed, ''I’ll do my best, then.''

''How bout you Mal?''

Mal was silent. Eyes closed, brows furrowed. Concentrating. Claire thought she should try to focus too. She closed her eyes and thought about Violet as hard as she could. She recalled every detail she could : Violet's long black hair with the strawberry conditioner scent, the sound of her snorting laugh, the stack of books she brought with her to the hospital room, her promise to talk from beyond the grave. Claire let out a sob.

''Claire,'' Elmer whispered.

''We keep going.''

''But Claire, you—''

''The safe word is Oklahoma.''

Elmer sighed again. This time, resigning himself to silence. He knew she meant it about the safe word. But he wouldn’t dare stop her. Not after they’ve come so far. Claire settled back into focus. This time, trying some better memories.

It was freshman year, before the diagnosis, before everything. Clarie and Violet were jumping on the beds of their new student dorm. Claire couldn’t believe her luck, actually getting to live with her best friend for four years. She thought about the acoustic shows they would play together at Holly’s open mic night every saturday. How Violet would always sing and she would always play guitar and do backup vocals and how they would never ever practice for real. She thought about the founding of the Paranormal Research Society, how they met Mal and Elmer and how tarot cards always promised them the brightest of futures (they still did). She thought about how for some reason, despite there being no reason to go, Violet would prefer to read and study in this specific public library just outside the school. It was the reason they chose this place. She even thought about the time they went ghost hunting in the campus after night. It was dark and stormy, much like this one. They were in the Watkins building, the one that used to be a mental asylum. They never did find anything though, no matter how scary it got. But it made for great stories.

''Ah,'' Mal gasped. The planchette, did it... move?

Claire opened her eyes. Indeed, the planchette was moving. She shot a glance at each of her friends. Mal’s mouth was agape and his eyes were dinner plates. Meanwhile, Elmer was hyperventilating. He was fighting to breathe slower and deeper but to little avail. Claire could feel the sweat coming out of his hands. They looked terrified. Did this really work? She shook her head in disbelief and blinked rapidly, as if to dispel the illusion. But no, it was really happening. Ever so slowly, the small heart-shaped piece of wood drifted across the board. Finally stopping on HELLO. The room, somehow, fell even more silent.

''Is,'' Claire cleared her throat. Her voice was trembling, ''is th-that you? Violet?''

The planchette started moving again. A little faster this time. Old wood squeaked against old wood as it made its way to it’s destination. The word Yes.

Claire’s tears were on the verge of escaping her eyes, but she wasn’t a fool. It could be a rogue spirit, ''If it’s really you, what’s the first song we ever sang together at Holly’s?''

The planchette hesitated before moving again. H. Claire’s eyes grew wide. The little thing picked up some speed. A. She felt Mal’s knees tremble. Even the boys didn’t know the answer to this one. This was way before they ever met.  N.

''Oh my God,'' she whispered. D. She stifled her tears. This couldn’t be happening for real. S. It was. The first success of the Paranormal Research Society, and their president was on the other side.

''Hands?'' asked Elmer, ''you played a song called Hands?''

''Hands Down? Dashboard Confessional?'' Mal whispered. He looked at Claire for confirmation and received a small nod in return. Mal’s eyes grew wider. An emo ghost.

Claire finally broke down. She started crying. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. Hot tears escaped her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Without a free hand to wipe them away, she let them fall onto the aging wooden Ouija board. She tried to speak but had no idea what to say. Her sobs echoed through the empty dark library.

''So, how’s the afterlife, Violet?'' Mal asked the Ouija board. The planchette started to move again. Much faster than before.

O-K

''What, really? Heaven? It’s just… OK?''

YES

It started with a giggle under his breath. A soft exhale. But it came back in waves. Louder each time. A soft laugh turned into a full on fit. Elmer and Claire looked at each other. It must have been the first time they actually heard Mal laugh full on without restraint. It sounded… weird. Almost alien. And worst of all, it was contagious. Soon, Claire joined in. What a preposterous statement to say about the great beyond. It was OK. Meh. It was hilarious. And it was pure Violet. Elmer couldn’t help himself either. All three of them were laughing so hard they must have been audible from the outside. 

''Okay, okay, who’s next, Elmer, You?'' Claire asked. Her face was still slick with tears but there was a new smile under all that.

And so Elmer asked if there were dogs in heaven, to which the reply was yes and another fit of laughing. Claire asked about Jeff Buckley, to which the reply was T-A-L-K-S-2-M-U-C-H which started another riot. And Mal asked about sleep, (it was optional), and so on, each of them taking turns crying and then laughing like lunatics. They knew better than to ask ineffable questions about life, death, the universe and such. It was agreed upon even in the planning stages. Questions like that would only waste the short time they had talking to their friend. Probably make Violet feel bad too. They had to make the most of it. And Claire at least thought they did a good job.

They saved the I-miss-you’s for last, but there was no more crying. All their faces were wet with tears and sore with laughter. They thanked Violet's spirit and they bid her farewell. The planchette moved one last time. 

GOODBYE

Claire took her fingers off the planchette and stood up, leaving the board on the laps of Mal and Elmer who were still reeling from the events that just transpired.

Elmer broke the silence first, ''Jesus,'' he stretched his arms over his head, ''that was intense!''

''I can’t believe it,'' added Mal, sat still there. His face was back to stoic but his eyes seemed permanently widened from the experience.

''Believe what? Successful contact with the spirit world? With Violet?'' Claire was ecstatic.

''No,'' Mal said, folding the board and gingerly placing the planchette on top, ''I can’t believe we didn’t film it!''

The realization sent the Paranormal Research Society rolling on the floor in laughter. Somewhere, Claire knew, Violet was laughing too.

___________________________________________

The Paranormal Research Society burnt the sage bundle, just in case, and they blew out the candles and packed up. Claire could barely stand. Her sides hurt so much, her tear ducts were dry, and her legs were still asleep, but it was the best she’s felt in a long time. Timing themselves with a gap in the patrol, they slipped out and locked the door behind them. Then they went to 711, got slurpees, Mal had a cigarette, and they split up to go back home. Mal lived in an apartment a little uptown from the others so he split off early. And now as the mood had settled and Mal wasn't around to hear, Claire had something she wanted to ask.

''So, Elmer.''

''Yeah?''

''How did you know?''

''Know what?''

Claire didn't want to give too much away, ''Were you there?''

''Where?''

Claire stopped in front of him and turned around. She analyzed Elmer’s face. Sweating a little, of course. Wearing his usual expression, but she thought she saw something there. Something else.

''You were there. In Holly’s. You must have been.''

''What? Yeah, I mean, we used to go there all the time, right?''

''Don’t play dumb, I’m not mad,'' Claire sighed, ''you knew we played Hands Down for our first show. You were there.''

Elmer looked incredulous, ''what are you talking about? I haven’t even made your acquaintance at that time! That was before our little organization!''

''Oh, really?'' Claire crossed her arms. It had to be Elmer. Mal was a purist. He would never fake anything paranormal. He once got into a fistfight with some guys making a crop circle for a ‘social experiment’.

''Yes, really!''

Claire squinted and leaned forward. His face showed no signs of lying. He looked absurdly honest, even during the seance itself. So either that really was Violet and it wasn’t Elmer’s sweaty fingers moving the planchette, or he had gotten really, really good at lying. Both conclusions were equally unbelievable. She softened her gaze and stood back up straight.

''Thanks,'' Claire said. Just in case.

''For what?''

Unreal, she thought. Elmer was a dweeb through and through. ''Never mind. Let's get going, man. It's late.''

Claire turned and continued walking. 

Elmer smiled. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked up at the starry sky. He wondered what Violet thought.