Chereads / THROWING IT ALL INTO THE WIND / Chapter 5 - Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Chapter 4

An expression forms on the husband's face, of one tangled up in bottomless thought. Then a smile suddenly breaks through all of the deep contortions.

"I don't know about all of this. You know what the old folks would say, Lindza."

"Yeah., I know honey, but I can't see where it 'll hurt for us to do this thing one time. I see it all as being generally benevolent, and relatively innocent myself. Then again, I have never done anything even remotely resembling this. In the end I say, let's go on through with this deal. It is for the child and his best interests that we find out the truth."

The weekend finally arrives. Around 1800 that Friday night, the two couples bounce through the door of the apartment at the same time, seemingly filled with good cheer and great excitement at being invited to this rather exotic affair.

Phoebe was a young brunet, with delicate features and a very pale complexion, almost to a point of appearing sickly. She ravishingly enjoys wearing lavish, chillingly expensive firs, and entertaining a high-minded view of herself and her past accomplishments. Her personality bore the appearance of great reservation, strangely enough, but underneath it all, she was exceedingly uninhibited. She struggled to present an appearance of being sophisticated, yet virtually always fell short in doing so, to any person present familiar with a genuine cosmopolitan circle of association.

Phoebe's husband, Stewart, is a very down to earth, large boned, muscular man, with rather chiseled features. His body bears the appearance of enduring heavy labor for an extended duration of time. He wears a thick black mustache. He smiles, but remains reserved, until he feels comfortable in his surroundings. When he finally speaks, he is direct to the point, with a tendency for remaining steadfast to the honest truth, even when doing so is frowned upon, and clearly not in his own best interests.

George is a thin man with a thick sandy blonde mustache, speaking with a heavy Kansas accent. His skin bears a weathered appearance of spending lots of time outdoors, even though he is only thirty years old. He is already noticeably missing several teeth. Kids always call him, The Cowboy, since his appearances and general mannerisms are reminiscent of a stereotypical look and way of behaving Holly Wood cowboys have. Though his speech seems to drag, his body and general personality is always full of energy and surprises. He is definitely an unabashed risk taker, to say the least about him.

His wife, Sherrie, is a well-built, mid-sized woman. She has sandy blond hair wrapping her head in a typical beehive style of the times. She smiles often, though she says little unless spoken to. She is very reserved, yet she possesses an adventurous side to her personality, in complement to her husband, George. She would take a blind shot in the dark, if she thought a possibility existed for her to experience something exotic or turn some type of worthwhile personal gain from doing so.

All of these young people as a group, radiate an appearance of being filled with energy, and ready for some rocking action. Because of their presence the house is soon filled with compelling conversation and merry laughter. The food served for this particular night is a household favorite, being thick, juicy, sirloin steak, surrounded by stove top fries, all in company with homemade banana pudding for dessert. Of course, all of this meat is grilled and served up with healthy cups full of blood textured muscadine wine, extracted from a nearby farmer's wooden barrel as a complimentary gift to the home upon announcement of the new babe being born.

Around 2024 that evening, Lindza begins setting up the three white candles into the shape of a nine, by nine, by nine-foot triangle, into the central hardwood floor area of their apartment. Inside the triangle center is set up the black candle. Lindza steps around the corner into a small closet, from which she produces a gold-colored cardboard game box, bearing a clear picture of the Ouija Board on the front. Next to the picture are the words, Original Game Piece. The group begins to cheer and clap as she is bringing it out.

"Oh yeah, here comes the highlight of the starlit night, now!" one of the female voices' yells.

"Let's get on with this show," rumbles the low-pitched voice of Stewart.

"Well, that's right, Lindza, just save the best for last, like a good hostess should," replies Chris to the already spoken words.

"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, soon we will be nearing the witching hour, and maybe this show will really get good then!" announces Phoebe with a haunting smile to every person's slight astonishment, since she usually had very little to say. She gazes around the room, seemingly in wide eyed anticipation at each and every person present.

Lindza stoops as she proceeds to light the candles. Beside the black candle she opens up a small folding table. In front of the small table, she opens a folding metal chair.

"Here is where we will place the Ouija Board. I will get another chair for the other side of the table.

We can play, one couple at a time. Is everybody on with this deal?"

"Yes, of course we are on," speaks the woman.

"We are all on, as far as I am concerned," says Stewart.

"Let's stir up some ghosts, now partners!" yells George, as he crawls from the couch toward the triangle.

The Ouija Board is a wooden rectangular shaped object, with writing bearing an unintelligible symbolism rendering a feeling of dating from sometime backward, deep into the Middle Ages. Across the face of the board is an alphabet arch, with the words "yes" on one end, and "no" on the other. In the center is a smiling sun shape, bearing an obviously veiled meaning no person present is aware of. Positioned over that smiling sun, is a walnut-stained wooden triangle, with a thumb sized hole in the center.

"Now listen up folks," Lindza says toward the congregated group. "Here is how this piece of equipment works. The candles have been lit. I will soon cut out all of the electric light. Our first couple will hold their fingertips slightly above the triangle, then move them in a circular motion, while the others in the group focus their concentration on the board and our unseen spiritual presence here inside this room.

"As the couple makes the circle, we'll ask the question aloud; are there any spirits here in this room? The triangle should soon be motivated by its own forces, pausing over the words, yes, or no. Our next question will be who are these spirits? Are they good or bad? and so forth. Does every person present understand the routine?"

"It's all on with me," replies Phoebe with her provocative smile, as if she is attempting to imitate some movie star. Maybe the star was Marilyn Monroe, or Tina Louise? Might it have been Judy Garland? No person present in the meeting could make a solid determination.

"Let's do it!" spoke an ever ready, Stewart, with a broad smile.

"I must agree, so let's git it on, rat nigh!," laughs George.

"All right then," spoke Lindza, "who shall be our first couple?"

There is a dead silence for what felt like hours, then George speaks up.

"Well for crying out loud here folks, let's be on with it. I guess it will be Sherri and myself."

The entire group serenades his willingness to proceed, with the sound of claps and cheers.

"At a boy, George," they all yell as they clap. George and Sherri both assume their positions on either side of the table, upon which the Ouija Board lays.

"Alright now," announces Lindza. "I am going to hit all the lights, save the candles!"

The room suddenly became dark with the orange flicker of nighttime candlelight. The feeling generated is one of a certain timelessness, really appealing to George, Hendrick, and the almost always silent Sherri.

The couple hold both opened palms slightly above the wooden triangle and begin to slowly circle. A graveyard silence falls upon the room, with exception of a sound generated by the triangle moving upon the face of the board. Before much time elapses, to the surprise of both George and Sherri, this wooden triangle feels as if it assumes a mysterious motivation, all by its own compulsion.

"Oh, Ouija Board, thy ancient medium, wise and omniscient, is there any unseen presence here inside this room?" thunders a monotone voice of Lindza through the silence and flickering darkness.

The triangle seemingly pulls the hands of the couple slowly via its own motivation, pausing the thumb sized opening in its center upon the word, yes.

"Who is this presence?" replies Lindza aloud to the board.

The triangle pulls the hands of the couple, pausing on the letters T-H-E-R-E-A-R-E, and backward, then downward, toward the number 3. All people present take careful note of this spelling.

A hush again falls over the room. Then the triangle once more commences to move, pausing over the letters A-M-O-N. The triangle pauses for a moment, commencing to move again, pausing over the letters, A-B-A-D-D-O-N.

The group members become excited as they take note of the letters, reading aloud this haunting spelling and the words, while pondering the meaning thereof. Finally, the triangle commences to move again, pausing over the letters, A-E-S-H-M-A. An air of excitement once more again consumes all members of the group.

"Wow!" gasps Lindza, "this is really weird to a point where I am getting chills."

"I guess you now have an answer to your question regarding ghosts in your dwelling place," says Phoebe.

"So what on earth are you going to do, now that you know?" laconically asks George.

The crowd gathers about inside the house, chatting and discussing options for Hendrick and Lindza, considering this new line of information. In general, following this rather unsettling revelation, any other use of the Ouija Board is all in the name of good fun. Hearty cups were filled with wine accompanied with plentiful cheer, as this play with the spirit board continues on, until the witching hour. All of the other couples have their own turn at the table. Now the only couple remaining is Lindza and her husband, Hendrick.

Both sit with their hands held slightly above the triangle. The others cheer, moving them forward headlong into the game. The couple moves their opened palms in a circle, while the others goad them into asking the board a question.

"All right now, all right now, is any spirit still present in this room?" Sherri abruptly asks, as the triangle slowly creeps in a circle, pausing over the word, yes. "Let's ask the spirit board something else now! Let's go on and ask another question."

"Are we going to have any more children?" asks Lindza aloud. The triangle continues to move in a circle, then gradually pauses again over the word, yes.

"Well, how many?" asks Hendrick aloud, as he chuckles along with the others in unison. The triangle circles, then pauses over the number 1. The others around begin laughing, as they cheer along.

"Go on Hendrick, ask it something challenging. We know that you can, now," slurs Chris. "Go on now and do this," the others goad.

"All right then, I will ask this thing here one more question, a challenging question!" announces Hendrick with glowing confidence. "Oh board, so wise and omniscient, where does the devil live?"

The wooden triangle circles, pausing over the letters I-N-H-E-L-L-O-R-I-N-Y-O-U.

The entire group suddenly retracts with a sudden gasp in utter astonishment at the wisdom of the spirit board. Instantly Hendrick flies into a maniacal rage, ripping the board into shreds as he casts them into the nearby stainless steel kitchen sink. As his anger continues to burn, he lights the splinters afire with his Zippo cigarette lighter.

"Wow now! I guess this event was simply way too much for us to swallow on a Saturday night here," chuckles Steward, in apparent shock at Hendrick's sudden, impassioned response.

"Yeah, this rather dramatic conclusion might be a sign of it being time for us to exit out. Bedtime is around the corner anyway, and morning comes rather quickly," speaks the usually quiet Sherri.

"Well, all I can tell you is that I didn't spell this intelligent reply out," announces Hendrick, "and Lindza didn't either; so, who else spelled it out, if we didn't? I personally didn't really want any part of this mess myself, Lindza. We need to talk, come tomorrow."

The group makes a few closing remarks, drinks down their last swallow of wine, then eventually makes their way out of the apartment.

With the rise of the sun, Hendrick awakes, announcing where the family needed to begin packing up, since they were now heading out for Richmond, Va. His boss and personal friend, Hayam Solomon, was a big-time real-estate owner, managing and owning more than thirty rental complexes, both at the dockside near Norfolk and in Richmond, some three hours' ride to the west. His primary home, however, is in Richmond.