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in the spirit negatives so that they might be almost anyone.
    In the square outside town hall, free readings would be  given by several mediums at once. We would hover at the fringes of the crowd, unabashed by being dressed only in nightclothes, hugging our blinking jars with care, watching the mediums work their trade. "I'm getting a J.R. -- either initials or a junior. I can't be sure. Does this make sense to anyone? Junior or J.R. It's a male."
    Invariably someone would respond, something like, "My son was John Robert Junior!"
    "He was young when he died!"
    "Yes! Yes!"
    On occasions when we watched scenes such as that, Mimi would roll her eyes -- something I was noticing her do with increasing frequency the older we grew -- and make a droll comment, such as, "No kidding. Anyone could have figured that out. Look how young the mother is."
    That we were flitting about in the shadows like so many fairy spirits on these nights was not lost to several enterprising mediums. We were often bribed with promises of fresh-made ice cream or fried dough that was served from carts on the street for performing simple services.
    One night several of us -- Mimi, Amelie, Emma, me, and a number of other local children -- were assigned to stand at a window and stare at the black shade covering it. We had been instructed to uncap our jars of fireflies the moment the shade went up. When we did this -- releasing  a rising cloud of shimmering fireflies in front of the window -- shrieks erupted from the room within. Following orders, we then sped off into the woods behind, like so many escaping ghosts.
    This was how I grew up.
    ***
    Chapter 7
    B y the summer of 1911 we had moved into a larger home, a white Victorian in the center of town with a large front yard separated from the road by a picket fence. Like the others, it had a wide porch and its trim was a riot of elaborate scrollwork. It was a far cry from the small cottage we had started out in.
    Mother no longer worked for Aunty Lily at the hotel because her medium business was so good, but Mimi and I had started to work there as helpers, doing whatever Aunty Lily needed. We were at the hotel the night it became the first building in Spirit Vale to be wired for electricity. After months of renovation, gas jets were capped and electric wiring was installed.
    "In 1893, Tesla demonstrated wireless electricity at the Chicago World's Fair. Why aren't they using that?" I asked Mimi as we stood with Emma and Amelie, looking at the hideous wires defacing our beautiful town.
    "I don't know," Mimi replied. Suddenly, she clasped her hand over her mouth, and her eyes went wide.
    She was looking at Amelie, whose hair had become electrified and stood practically on end, thousands of small wisps dancing around her face. It made her laugh.
    "Amelie, you look so funny!" Emma cried as she hugged her. Instantly, Emma's hair began to dance around her head, as well.
    Mimi and I tried touching them but nothing happened. "Why didn't our hair stand up like that?" I asked Mimi.
    She shook her head, mystified. "Those two are on a wavelength all their own" was the only explanation she could offer.
    Nearly everyone in town came out to see the spectacular sight of the Spirit Hotel glowing like a giant firefly in the night.
    I stood there with the others and wondered at the magic of electricity. If light could travel through wires, perhaps a spirit really could find a way to move along secret paths, as well.
    ***
    An article I showed Mother one day talked about how Tesla felt that disease could be cured by vibration. He claimed that if one could calculate the correct vibration of a virus, one could match it and smash the vibration in the same way he had caused the buildings to crumble years  before. This sparked Mother's interest more than the other articles.
    The next thing I knew, vibrational reader and healer had been added to her list of talents on our front sign. Her "vibrational readings" became extremely