The Seance in Apartment 10 Read online

  Holding her bag close to her chest, Julia followed us into the commons area and to the stairwell. “How many people are living in this building?” she chanced. “There weren't too many cars in the lot outside.” With her other hand she kept running her fingers through her orange ponytail, the freckles on her cheeks coming in more boldly as she crinkled her nose.

  “Just two,” I replied, pulling open the door to the stairs and stepping aside to let them in. “Me and some other person who lives on the second floor. Haven't seen them, though. If they're in there, they don't make a peep.” The door slammed behind us, and I think both Julia and Annie actually jumped at the sound. “Anyway, this place is pretty barebones, but it's got everything I need. And it's cheap.”

  Behind me, Cat was climbing the stairs, seeming altogether unfazed by the dim, dusty stairwell. Unlike the other two, she probably hadn't grown up with much money, or else she was much better at hiding her disgust. “It's pretty cool, being able to live by yourself out here,” she said, wide eyes blinking with a childlike earnestness. Those eyes of hers were big, brown and glassy, and were framed in browner eyebrows that struck against her pale complexion in stark contrast. She'd grown her hair out a bit since I'd last seen her, and it hung down to just above her shoulders, the wavy ends un-styled. She was wearing a tank top with a thin, green button-down over it, and I wondered how in the hell she could dress that way and not melt in the summer heat.

  No one else said anything till we reached the fourth floor. We waited up for Annie, who was panting by the second flight, and then I opened the door to my studio, standing aside proudly so that they could all get a good look. “Well, this is it. I'd take you on a tour, but... it's pretty self-explanatory.”

  Bringing their bags in and having a look around, they remarked on this or that. “The kitchen is so small!” I heard one of them say. “Where do you keep all of your stuff, Tori? There's no room in here for anything!” said another.

  Ultimately, it was Julia's question, delivered offhandedly, that took me most by surprise. Cradling her long, pale arms despite the day's warmth, she looked at me and asked, “How can you stand living here, Tori? It's so... creepy.”

  “Creepy?” I echoed. “Is it? I dunno...” Glancing around my own place, I shrugged. “I guess I don't really think of it that way.” I had a lot of criticisms about the Lamplight complex, but none that would lead me to deem it straight-up creepy. There'd been some issues, like the door falling open, and the apartment getting super dark at night, but still, I wasn't afraid to live there.

  Annie seemed to agree. “There's something about this place,” she said, catching her breath and whipping her pink, sweaty bangs back. “It doesn't look friendly.”

  I laughed. Probably harder than I should've. Walking over to the window, I opened it all the way to let more air in and then pulled out the futon so that we'd all have room to sit. “Listen, that's enough talk about that. I seem to remember someone promising me wine?”

  5

  I don't care what anyone says. Boxed Riesling is delicious, even if you have to enjoy it out of plastic Solo cups.

  The four of us sat around on the futon, cups in hand, and talked well into the afternoon, polishing off the first box of wine well before dinner, when we all chipped in towards a pizza and breadsticks from a nearby delivery place. It'd only been two weeks since we'd last gotten together, but listening to us ramble on you'd have thought it years. Julia was ecstatic to have a break from basketball, but would have to decide if she was going to play again next semester by mid-July, when the training restarted. Annie was planning on taking a trip out to Chicago for some anime convention and was hoping to meet a number of friends there that she'd previously only spoken to on online forums.

  Cat, though, didn't say much. I wasn't sure if she felt uncomfortable, if her mind was elsewhere, or if she simply didn't have anything to add. When asked about how her summer was going, how her classes had gone the previous semester, she gave clipped answers. Most of the time she listened to the rest of us, sitting in the corner of my futon, legs crossed, drink in hand, and eyes scanning the room.

  We were in luck, as not an hour after everyone arrived it began to rain. This rain brought with it a sweet, cool breeze, and it took the temperature down into the tolerable range for hours after. When the pizza came, we all ate enthusiastically, and I broke out the popcorn and cookies I'd bought at the store earlier. A real well-rounded meal.

  We were pretty buzzed by sundown. The pizza had been demolished and we'd started messing around with the TV, watching the boring public programs and cracking rude jokes. We turned on some music for a while and considered heading downtown to see if any clubs were open. “I could have sworn that there was a show going on tonight, at Club H. You know, the club on Main and Thurston?” slurred Julia. “I think Honeyblood was supposed to be playing there tonight.”

  “You're full of it,” I countered. “No one's in this frigging town. They all packed up and left for the summer. You should have seen it—I was walking downtown just the other day and even the dinky stores along Main were all closed! It's a little depressing.”

  “That's what you get for being such an overachiever,” jabbed Annie. “Summer classes? What's that about, huh? I just finished sixteen credit hours last semester while working. The last thing I want to do with my summer is more schoolwork. You must be wrong in the head, Tori.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, let's see if you're still saying that next year, when I graduate early and leave your asses behind!” I laughed. “No, really, it's boring, but I think this is the right move for me. Pathophysiology is going to be tough. I'd rather get it out of the way. Plus, with fewer classes, I'll be able to find a job and work so that I'm not such a strain on my dad.”

  All the while, Cat hadn't said anything. She'd nod her head, smile pleasantly, but aside from enthusiastic pulls from her cup, she didn't really talk.

  Wanting to bring her into the fold, I nodded to her and asked, “So, what's your major again, Cat? How's it going for you?”

  Cat cleared her throat, her nose red for all the drink. “Uh, I'm majoring in Asian Studies,” she replied. “Hoping, once everything is done, to move out to Japan or Korea to teach kids English.”

  Annie swooned. “Isn't that, like, the coolest damn thing? I wish I was motivated like that. It seems like it would be super exciting, being a traveling teacher.” She paused. “Probably doesn't pay that well, but imagine the stories you'd have to tell!”

  Julia motioned to the door. “Come on, let's go downtown. If nothing else, maybe there's an open bar that'll give us some cheap drinks. I bet they won't even check ID's. If they do, I'll sneak you a drinky on the down-low, Tori. You guys game?”

  We were still mulling it over when the rain picked up again and the lights began to flicker.

  None among us wanted to walk downtown in the rain, and we were all too drunk to drive. Listening to the rainfall, we knew we were going to be stuck indoors for the night, whether we liked it or not. If we wanted entertainment in my spartan little room though, we were going to have to get creative.

  The lights kept dimming, and in the distance we could hear the roar of thunder. Nervous that the lights might go out, I got up and started looking through a box of odds and ends, where I'd packed a couple of scented candles in glass jars and a book of matches from home. Setting them at the foot of the futon just in case, we poured ourselves more wine and drank ourselves into silence. The conversation was dying.

  “So, you don't know who's living on the second floor?” asked Julia after a long lull. “Doesn't it make you nervous? There's, what, two empty apartments in this building? Why did people move away?”

  I shrugged, and was honestly getting a bit tired of answering that question. “They moved at the end of the semester. They were students, probably. Lease ran out and they went back home to their parents or something.” I shrugged again, my buzz turning it into a spastic, drunken tic. “It's no biggie. At least it's quiet here.”<
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  When cycling through the same few channels on the TV got to be too boring and we were reaching the end of our last box of wine, we grew desperate for a distraction. We watched Youtube videos on each other's phones, but even that got stale after an hour. It was getting close to midnight and the group had started warming up to the idea of an early bedtime when Cat, for the first time all evening, decided to speak up.

  “Hey,” she began, smiling sheepishly, “this is gonna sound weird, but...” She reached over and picked up her bag. It was black and green, and had her last name, MEYERS, scrawled on the green portion in silver marker. “I don't know if you'd be into this, but... I do, uh... I do this sort of thing for people. Like, when they move to new places or whatever, I...” She unzipped the bag, reached into it and drew out a box. “You guys wanna have a séance?”

  The three of us blinked at her stupidly, the lights temporarily going. Smacking my lips and tasting the sour fruit notes on my tongue, I shook my head. “What do you mean?”

  Cracking the lid on that box of hers, Cat revealed what looked to be a Ouija board.

  Now, I'd seen these in movies before. On television. I knew what it was and what you were supposed to do with it, but I'd never actually seen one up-close. She held it out just far enough for the three of us to get a peek, like it was some kind of contraband, and the childish smile she wore was unlike any expression I'd seen on her face up to that point.

  “You wanna use that thing to... talk to ghosts or something?” I asked.

  Julia gulped the rest of her wine down hard and backed away, none too thrilled at the prospect.

  Annie leaned in, though, grinning ear to ear. “Oh, Tori,” she told me, tugging on my upper sleeve, “This is so cool. I've seen Cat do this a few times. She, like, senses the energies of a place, you know? And if there's anyone here... a spirit or something, then she can talk to it! I've seen her do it, and the little triangle thingie moves! It really moves! I've felt it.”

  Cat pulled the lid off of the box completely, revealing the board in full. It was pretty simple, of thin and flimsy construction. Though the box was plain and unmarked, I imagined she'd probably walked into a Toys-R-Us to buy it. The “triangle thingie”, which I was soon informed was actually called a “planchette”, was made of textured, brown plastic that was supposed to give the impression of wood. There was a little window in the center of it made of clear plastic, and it was marred with fingerprints from previous sessions.

  “Annie told me this was a housewarming party, and I thought I should bring this along, just in case,” said Cat. “We don't have to do it if you don't want to. It's just that it can be a good thing, getting to know the energies in your new home. I don't know that we'd actually connect with a real ghost or anything, but I've had some really intriguing experiences with this board.” Noting Julia's discomfort, she was quick to add, “All of them good. It's not like what you see in the movies.”

  Julia set her cup aside and brought her knees up to her chest. “That's one of those Oujia boards, right?”

  “I prefer to call them 'talking boards'. In the end, it's just a tool for communicating with the other side. The brand or materials used aren't what's important,” explained Cat.

  “Right, but it's gonna summon up demons or something, isn't it?” Julia frowned, looking to me. “Maybe we should do something else. We could watch a scary movie on my phone, if you really want to get spooky, but that,” she said with extra finger-pointing emphasis on the Ouija board, “is not my idea of a good time.”

  “Don't be like that!” snapped Annie. “It's cool, really it is! You've gotta broaden your horizons, Julia.”

  Feeling embarrassed, Cat moved to put the thing away. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause a fight. I should have asked before bringing it. I just thought--”

  “No,” I replied. “It's fine. In fact...” I turned to Julia. “In fact, why don't we give it a shot? Just a quick one. A trial run. It seems interesting. More interesting than sitting here, doing nothing.”

  Julia began to protest, but a crash of thunder promptly silenced her.

  An instant later, the lights went out.

  And this time, they didn't come back on.

  I was sent scrambling for my candles, and I clumsily lit each one till we had some light to work with. Cinnamon, candy apple and warm vanilla-scented candles all burned on the floor in front of the futon, casting an orange glow about the shadowed room and filling the air with a weird, overly sweet combination of smells.

  When Julia no longer put up any resistance, Cat took the Ouija board out of its box, set it on the floor between the candles, and then picked up the planchette. “Here, let's sit on the floor, in a circle, the four of us. There are some ground rules we'll have to lay down before getting started.”

  Annie and I plopped down next to Cat, wide-eyed and excited. Julia took a good deal of coaxing, though. When she finally joined the circle, her long legs crossed and her jaw tense, Cat set the planchette down in the middle of the board. Sitting in that dark studio, on the floor, with all of the lights off and a whole lot of booze flowing in our veins, we were ready to get started.

  “All right,” began Cat. “Let me explain how to conduct a séance.”

  6

  Cat sought to explain the rules of the Ouija séance, though Annie and I were too drunk and giggly to maintain the seriousness the situation called for. Julia listened but made her opposition to this game known throughout the entire process with a series of frowns and exaggerated sighs, right up until it was time to touch the planchette and start asking questions of ghosts.

  With all the solemnity of a professional psychic, Cat stood up and, in the flickering candlelight, began pacing back and forth in the living room. “What we're looking to tap into is another world—another sphere of existence. The world we know is driven by many energies, and those energies are manipulated by the inhabitants of a world beyond our understanding. We can't control this world, we can't enter it without forfeiting our lives, but we can take a peek behind the curtain, or make a brief connection with it, if we go about it the right way.” I wasn't sure if it was the booze lending her this earnestness and professionalism, or if this was how Cat always set about prefacing her séances.

  She continued, combing back her hair and squatting down so that the board was within arm's reach. “The first, and possibly most important step, is to signal a willingness to communicate to the denizens of the other side.” She looked at the three of us in turn, her big eyes seeming all the bigger in the uneven light. “We mustn't go into this with the wrong intentions, or solely for the sake of our amusement. Our hearts and minds must be clear and true. Do you understand?” She spared Annie a severe look. “No messing around, I'm serious.”

  “Hey, hey,” I said, nodding emphatically, “we're with you, we're with you. What's next?”

  In a voice just above a whisper, Julia asked, “Are you guys really sure this is the best idea?”

  The question went completely ignored as Cat started back into her spiel. “So, we'll join hands for a minute and call out to any spirit who might be listening in the other realm. It's very simple. Hold hands and form a circle around the board. I'll handle all of the talking.”

  “But there are four of us. Won't it be more like a square in that case?” hiccoughed Annie.

  “Don't be a smartass,” I muttered.

  The four of us joined hands, giggling a bit like schoolgirls, and Cat joined us, closing her eyes and exhaling theatrically.

  “W-who are we going to reach out to?” asked Julia. I could feel her hand in mine; it was already sweaty, and her fingers twitched nervously. “Someone specific, or... are we just going to talk to whoever picks up?”

  “We could call to someone specific, if you want,” Cat replied. “It can be much harder to reach a specific individual, but if there's someone you guys have in mind, I'm game.”

  “Oh,” blurted Annie, “why don't we call out to your mom, Tori?” She wore a big smi
le, like she'd just offered a thoughtful suggestion, but catching the sourness in my expression, she shrank back. “I'm sorry, I... I wasn't trying to be silly about it or anything. I just thought...”

  “It's all right,” I said, looking down to the carpet.

  “Your mother,” began Cat. “She's... she's not alive?” When I shook my head, she went on. “OK, well, that will work, then.” She cleared her throat. “We'll reach out to your mother, if that's all right.”

  I felt a spike of discomfort in my gut. Cracking a seasick smile, I tried to dissuade her. “W-well, honestly, I'd rather not.”

  “Did you not have a good relationship with her in life?” asked Cat. I couldn't blame her for asking; she barely knew me, and it was, under any other circumstance, a pretty innocent question.

  “No, I did. We got along great. It's just that...”

  “I'm sorry I said anything,” said Annie, letting go of our hands. “I shouldn't have run my mouth like that.”

  “Don't break the circle yet,” warned Cat, grasping Annie's hand tightly. “Not until I give the say-so.” Looking down at the Ouija board, she asked me another question. “Your mother's name. What was it?”

  I hesitated before answering. “My mom's name was Michelle.” Then, I stammered, “B-but really, I don't think we have to call out to her, y-you know?”

  “Why not?” asked Cat, turning those big, brown eyes on me. They seemed too big for her face, had the chilling effect of a porcelain doll's gaze on me. “Don't you want to reconnect with her?”

  This whole séance thing was putting me in a mighty awkward position. What'd begun as a fun little timesink was getting to be rather uncomfortable. My mother's death was a sore spot for me, something I didn't talk about a whole lot. Trotting out my mother's spirit in the name of a little parlor trick seemed in really poor taste. “It's not that, Cat. I mean, of course I'd like to speak to her again. I'm just not... I'm not sure that this is...”