“Hello.”

 I heard it plain as day. I knew right then it was coming back to the house from the storage facility. I took a pickup truckload of stuff to my building, in the rain and brought back a Ouija Board. 

“Hello,” it said again, louder this time.

I knew where it was and went right to its box in that nasty big garage, spider webs and all. I’m the one that packed it up and left it under the oak mantle I had never needed but bought somewhere anyway. 

“Can I open it?” my teenaged helper asked. He held the William Fuld talking board, the Ouija, in his lap on the drive back to the house.

“Don’t tell your mom I let you mess with a Ouija Board. They’re not toys,” I had a reputation in the family for a penchant for the supernatural. My bookshelves, cats, and ghost tales were spookier than I intended.  

“The lid says ‘For ages 8 and up,’ My mom would kill me if she knew I touched one of these things. May I?” The box made a sucking sound when he opened it.  I heard his quick intake of breath too. “It’s the classic.” Thunderstruck, he lifted it, held it by opposite corners, turned it over and over, examining every inch and letter on it. He smelled it. “And this is a…” his voice trailed off.

“That’s the planchette.” I said.

“Wow,” he looked at me funny. 

“Hello,” I heard it again. I thought he might have too from the look on his face.

“You heard it too,” his voice cracked in a whisper. His eyes were huge, and his fingers shook. 

“Put the lid back on it,” I said. “They are not toys.”

“Why are you taking it to your house?” he asked.

“It’s got some work to do,.” I said and grinned. His teenage eyebrow shot up. He was all in.

 “When I bought my house from Dad, his wife said she wanted to have a slumber party in that house first. Apparently, there was an unwritten rider in the contract that CH, my dad’s seventy-five year old wife and her cronies were slated to have a slumber party in it before I was allowed to move in. The house  was old enough that Mark Twain could have occupied it. 

It was obvious that she was mad that Dad let me buy the house in the first place because she had a world class conniption fit about it. A two year old couldn’t throw a better hissy fit. She would have her slumber party, “it had already been decided.” That’s what she pronounced. I used the Ouiji board to help provide the entertainment.

When she told me about the party, I laughed out loud. It was satisfying to watch her march away from me fuming while her big ass swung from side to side. 

‘It was already decided,’ she said about the slumber party, again. 

Since CH was a  God fearing Christian when she needed to be, my plan would either terrify or offend her and her cronies to the bone. At the very least, CH would be maddern’ a hornet. I had to laugh at that thought, I couldn’t help it. 

I put the Ouiji board on the kitchen island, hid behind the bushes, and watched through the window on the night of the party.

Why four old biddies wanted the discomfort of spending the night in an empty house without a television was beyond me. They didn’t even drink. CH was going to great lengths to aggravate me, even for her,

The ladies froze in their footsteps when they brought supplies into the bare kitchen. The Ouija Board sat dead center on the island with the planchette squatting on “No.” 

“O my God, Lord have mercy,” said Pat.

“ Jesus, it’s a WeeJee board,” said CH.

“Lord Sweet Jesus, I call on thee, O Lord, my Savior, uh, our Savior, Get thee behind me, us. Satan, Amen,” said Pat. Her arms were stretched out, the fat flaps of her arms shaking. Evil couldn’t get by her. 

“Lord have mercy, Patsy. What are we gonna do?” asked CH. She wrung her arthritic hands.

CH got pissed before the girls could burst into spontaneous tears and prayers. Rumor had it they wept and wailed like a cat’s chorus. Patsy was about to giggle before Pat shot her down with fire in her eyes..There was nothing funny about the situation. It was downright revolting, CH said so and that’s the way it was. Downright revolting. She mumbled something about practical jokes, slumber parties, Ouija boards, and that damned bitch.

Nobody laughed.The slumber party was over. 

 CH made up what happened next and swore that  the other ladies would repeat it as gospel. CH reported a cold wind overtook her while she stood near the Ouija Board, of course. Then she said she saw a tall dark and handsome man wearing purple and green silk robes “come out of nowhere.” She said he said unto her with a deep voice from hell telling them to leave the house and never set foot in it again. Nobody believed anything she ever said. Pat just said she wasn’t touching anything, ran to her car, and left. Patsy was disappointed, but had the manners to move the planchette to “Goodbye.”

My helper thought about what the Ouija Board slumber party story meant for a moment. “That’s another reason to take it to the house. It’s not a toy. The Ouija Board is well and truly powerful. It  has kept CH out of your house since that very day. I want me one of these.”