''Me!'' I gasped. ''Me! I won't---'' but even as i spoke she had taken my arm, and the next thing i knew i was sitting with the thing on my knees and Miss Laura Hinkle opposite, grinning in my face like a flirtatious crocodile ...
''I-- I won't---'' I began.
''Now Mr. Shekhawat, don't you be shy.'' Miss Laura Hinkle leaned forward and shook a bony finger almost under my chin.
''I--I'm not! Only i say i won't---!''
''No,it's very easy, really. You just put the tips of your fingers right here beside the tips of my fingers---''
And the first thing I knew she had taken my hands and was coyly holding them in a position desired. She released them presently, and the little board began to slide around in an aimless sort of way. There seemed to be some force tugging it about. I looked at my partner, firt with suspicion, and then with a vast relief. If she was doing it, then all that talk about spirits--- Oh, I did hope Miss Laura Hinkle was cheating with that board!
''Ouija, dear, won't you tell us something?'' she cooed, and on the instant the thing seemed to take life.
It rushed to the upper left hand corner of the board and hovered with its front leg on the word ''Yes''. Then it began to fly around so fast that i gave up any attempt to follow it. My companion was bending forward and had started to spell out loud: '''T-r-a-i-t-o-r.' Traitor!
Why, what does she mean?''
''I don't know,'' I said desperately. My collar felt very tight.
''But she must mean something. Ouija, dear, won't you explain yourself more fully?''
''A-s-k-h-i-m!'' Ask him. Ask who, Ouija?''
''I--i'm going.'' I choked and tried to get up but my fingers seemed stuck to that dreadful board and i dropped back again.
''Apparently Miss Hinkle had not heard my protest. The thing was going around faster than ever and she was reading the message silently, with her brow corrugated, and the light of the huntress in her pale blue eyes.
''Why, she says it's you, Mr. Shekhawat. What does she mean? Ouija, won't you tell us who is talking?''
I groaned, but that inexorable board continued to spell. I always did hate a spelling match! Miss Hinkle was again following it aloud: '''H-e-l-e-n.' Helen!'' She raised her voice until it could be heard at the other end of the room.
''Sharon, dear, do you know anyone by the name of Helen?''
''By the name of---? I can't hear you.'' And my wife made her way over to us between the Book Club's chairs.
''You know the funniest thing has happened, '' she whispered excitedly. ''Someone had been trying to communicate with Swayam through Mrs. Hunt's and Mrs. Sprinkle's Ouija! Someone by the name of Helen---''
''Why, isn't that curious!''
''What is?''
Miss Hinkle simpered.
''Someone giving the name of Helen has just been calling for your husband here.''
''But we don't know anyone by the name of Helen---''
Sharon stopped and began to look at me through narrowed lods much as she had done in the library the evening before.
And then from different parts of the room other manipulators began to report. Every plagued one of those five Ouija boards was calling me by the name! I felt my ears grow crimson, purple, maroon. My wife was looking at me as though i were some peculiar insect.
The squeak of Ouija boards and the murmur of conversation rose louder and louder, and then i felt my face twitch in the spasm of that idiotic grin. I tried to straighten my wrteched features into their usual semblance of humanity, I tried and---''
''Doesn't he look sly!'' said Miss Hinkle. And then i got up and fled from the room.
I do not know how the party ended. I do not want to know. I went straight upstairs, and undressed and crawled into bed, and lay there in the burning dark while the last guest gurgled in the hall below about the wonderful evening she spent. I lay there while the front dooe shut after her, Sharon's steps came up the stairs and--passed the door to the guest room beyond. And then after a couple of centuries elapsed the clock struck three and i dozed off to sleep.
At the breakfast table the next morning there was no sign of my wife. I concluded she was sleeping late, but Gladolia, upon being questioned, only shook her head, muttered something, and turned the whites of her eyes up to the ceiling. I was glad when the mealwas over and hurried to the library for another try at the story.
I had hardly seated myself at the desk when there came a tap at the door and a white slip of paper slid under it. I unfolded it and read:
''DEAR SWAYAM,
''I am going back to my grandmother. My lawyer will communicate with you later.''
''Oh, I cried. ''Oh, I wish i was dead!''
And:
''That's exactly what you ought to be!'' said that horrible voice from the other end of the room.
I sat up abruptly-- I had sunk into a chair under blow of the letter--then I dropped back again and my hair rose in a thick prickle on the top of my head. Coming majestically across the floor towards me was a highly polished pair of thick laced shoes. I stared at them in a sort of dreadful fascination, and then something about their gait attracted my attention and i recognized them.
''See here,'' I said sternly. ''What do you mean by appearing here like this?''
''I can't help it,'' said the voice, which seemed to come from a point about five and a half feet above the shoes. I raised my eyes and presently distinguished her round protruding mouth.
''Why can't you? A nice way to act, to walk in sections--''
''If you give me time,'' said the mouth in an exasperated voice, ''I assure you the rest of me will presently arrive.''
''But what's the matter with you? You ne'er acted like this before.''
She seemed stung to make a violent effort, for a portion of a fishy eye and the end of her nose popped into view with a suddenness that made me jump.
''It's all your fault.'' She glared at me, while part of her hair and plaid skirt began slowly to take form.
''My fault!''
''Ofcourse. How can you keep a lady up working all night then expect her to retain all her facilities the next day?
I'm just too tired to materialize.''
''Then why did you bother?''
''Because i was sent to ask when your wife is going to get rid of that Ouija board.''
''How should i know!'' I wish to heaven I'd never seen you.'' I cried. ''Look what you've done! You've lost me my wife, you've lost me my home and happiness, you've--- you've---''
''Misto Swayam'', came from the hall outside, ''Misto Swayam, I's gwine t' quit. I don't like no hoodoos.'' And the steps retreated.
''You've--- you've lost me my cook---''
''I didn't come here to be abused,'' said the ghost coldly.
''I--I---''
And then the door opened and Sharon entered. She wore the brown hat and coat she usually travels in and carried
a suitcase which she set down on the floor.
That suitcase had an air of solid finality about it, and it's lock leered at me brassily.
I leaped from my chair with unaccustomed agility and sprang in front of my wife. I must conceal that awful phantom from her, at any risk!
She did not look at me, or--thank heaven!--behind me, but fixed her injured gaze upon the waste-basket, as if to wrest dark secrets from it.
''I have come to tell you that I am leaving,'' she
staccatoed ...
***
This was the 4rth and second last chappy! 😛
I guess the longest chappy of this SS.😃
Well... now last one is left.
That will be posted very soon ... 😉
With Love <3
Ur's Shailja aka sweets
***
Words that have bothered you~
Coyly: Flirtatious but pretending to be shy or modest.
Inexorable: Unstoppable.
Simpered: Smile in a silly, often coy manner.
Hoodoos: Placing curses and charms to bring bad luck on some one.
Brassily: Rudely; insolently
Staccatoed: Spoke in an abrupt, detached manner.
***
Next Update only after some good no. of Lykes. 😳
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