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I-D-I-E-D-H-E-R-E”
    “Ok, that’s it,” I say as I shove the board and then stand. The planchette slides across the
board and then stops with a quick jolt.
    Flora’s face whitens. She quickly stands, shoves board and planchette back in the box.
“I’ll put it back. Don’t want to mess with it anymore. Marcy Long told me her aunt stayed here back in
the forties. Lost her baby. Told me lots of girls died here.”
    “I heard that too, but it’s not the old days. This is a silly board game somebody bought at Woolworths.
Besides, Marcy was probably just trying to freak you out.”
    “No, sometimes she gets scared like the rest of us. One night I got up to pee. I
was heading to the bathroom down the hall. Marcy was sitting on the stairs. She
was crying. Sobbing like a little kid. She had a knife in her hand. I think if
I hadn’t come along she might have done something bad to herself. I sat down next to
her and she grabbed my hand. Told me how much the house spooked her and then
she told me about her aunt.”
    “Scared or not, Marcy has issues. I wouldn’t believe anything she says. Especially after the shit she’s done to you.” Something tells me otherwise, but still I try to calm Flora. “Maybe we made that thing move with our subconscious minds. I heard someplace
that’s what happens with Ouija boards.” I flinch when the box falls off Flora’s bed and onto the worn braided rug.
    “No, it’s haunted here. I know it.”  Flora has tears in her eyes.
    “There’s something wrong here. I’m not sure what, but I’ll find out. Don’t be afraid. I doubt it’s evil spirits who eat eyeballs, or if Count Dracula’s coffin is in the basement.”  My attempt at humor fails and Flora sobs loudly. “Look, it’s an old house. The floors are uneven. The pipes, or any kind of vibration can
set things off and make stuff fall.”
    Flora still doesn’t look convinced.
    Now the door creaks. The knob turns. The door slowly opens.
    There’s nowhere to run or hide in this tiny room. I hold my breath as the door opens a
bit more. Flora gasps, presses close to me.
    The door creaks again. Someone—or something sighs. A shape is now evident as the door opens wider. The hall
light brightens and I realize it’s Marcy Long. Arms dangling at her side. Knife glimmering in her hand. “They took my first baby. They’ll take this one too,” she says. She slides a finger over her knife, caressing it almost lovingly.
    She takes a step backwards. The light flickers and then dies. Marcy is swallowed
by darkness.
    “Damn creepy chick. What the heck was she talking about?” snaps Flora.
    “I’m not sure. Just trying to freak us out.”
    Now we sit here on Flora’s bed, holding hands, shuddering each time we hear an unfamiliar sound. I’m keeping the baby. I don’t have much else. I don’t have anything at all, but a tiny bit of cash hidden away. Not enough so I can
start a new life, but I got options.
    Something taps at the window. I turn slowly to look. Dark streaks stain glass.
Finger marks.
    Child laughter erupts. First one voice. Then two and then a chorus of many.
    “They died here,” Marcy is still standing in the dark. Is she taunting us? Or is this a warning?
    “They all  died. And so will we.”

5

    Snow is clumped on windows and the sitting room is chilly. There are copper
vases with dusty fake flowers sitting on the mantle. There are logs in the
fireplace, but no one ever lights a fire. The wallpaper is gray with black
swirling designs and there are cobwebs stretched across the ceiling.
    My sister Jen waits for me on a couch. It’s the first time she’s visited since Dad brought me here. She’s staring at the painting of Amelia Leech. She smiles when I sit across from
her.
    “Frumpy painting,” she laughs. “I could do a modern version of her—make her more hip.”
    “Your portfolio is still in your old room back at the house,” I tell her. “I liked looking through it. I wish