by Sonia Singh
Scott didn’t know she had sinus problems.
Jane straightened. She was the only one smoking. “Give me a break.”
He could see Anjali getting ready to argue and interrupted. “Anjali has a point. Cigarette smoke can look like psychic manifestation on film. If you want to smoke, please do it outside.”
Jane brushed by him on her way out the door. Instead of looking offended, she smiled at him.
Dr. Madison clapped her hands again and beamed at everyone in the room. “Are we ready for the tour?”
They started on the third floor, which once housed the Booth children’s bedrooms and nursery. Scott looked at Anjali. “Anything?”
“Nothing specific.”
After that they all filed downstairs and through to the back. They stepped out onto a rolling green lawn. The grass sloped down to the sea cliff and an old rusted carousel.
“The carousel,” Anjali said. “Something’s there.”
“I feel it too,” Coulter said. “Energy.”
“Really?” Dr. Madison reached out with her hand, then pulled it back with a wistful smile. “Come, I’ve saved the best for last. Ladies and gentlemen, follow me into the dining room.”
They stood outside the closed double doors of the dining room like expectant children on a field trip. Dr. Madison paused for effect, Jane switched on the camera, and they entered.
The first thing Scott felt was cold.
“This is it,” Dr. Madison said. “This is where the twins’ birthday cake was served.” Jane circled the room, filming from every angle.
Anjali laid a hand on the dining table. “Don’t quote me on this, but I think the twins’ poisoning was an accident.”
Dr. Madison looked very pleased. “Really!”
They went back to the sitting room, where Darryl and Steve had finished setting up the equipment. “Well,” Dr. Madison said. “I can’t tell you what a wonderful feeling I have about this project. I’m so gl—”
She was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Scott had seen only one telephone in the whole house, an elegant bone ivory antique in the hall.
Dr. Madison took a step forward, her hand on her chest. Her expression was a mixture of fear and excitement. “Oh dear,” she said softly.
“Isn’t anyone going to answer that?” Coulter asked.
“You don’t understand.” Dr. Madison turned to them. “That phone is merely for show. There are no working telephones at Booth House because the house has never been connected to the telephone lines. This is impossible.”
39
“Well, someone should answer it,” Coulter said.
Jane folded her arms. “Don’t look at us, you guys are the professionals.”
“I’ll do it,” Anjali said. “Maybe I can get an idea of who we’re dealing with.” She quickly went across the hall and picked up the phone. “Hello?”
Girlish giggles filled her ears and then began to chant. “Ring around the roses, ring around the roses. You’ll all fall down,” they said in unison.
Scott came up behind her and laid his hand on her shoulder. “What do you hear?”
“Randall’s twins, I think. They were singing a nursery rhyme and it couldn’t have been creepier if Linda Blair was doing the chorus.”
She was about to put the phone down when a soft female voice came through the receiver. “Help me…help.” The voice cut right to her insides. She reached up and gripped Scott’s hand.
And then silence once again.
“Another voice broke through,” she said.
“Who?” Scott asked.
Slowly, she replaced the receiver and turned to find everyone crammed into the doorway staring at her. “I don’t know, but she wants help.”
Dr. Madison sighed. “The poor tormented dear, she’s crying out for help. It has to be Molly. She needs us.”
“I can’t confirm—” Anjali began.
“But it makes perfect sense. Don’t you see? Molly’s guilt has trapped her in the house.” Dr. Madison came forward and took Anjali’s hands in hers. “She’s reached out to you, my dear. Jane, start setting up in here please. I can’t wait to get started.”
Anjali went to Scott. “Can I talk to you privately?”
He opened the door to the kitchen. “No one’s in here.”
Once they were alone, she brought up what was bothering her. “It’s Dr. Madison, she’s hell-bent on this presence being Molly, but I don’t think it is.”
“I don’t think it’s Molly either. It just seems too tidy. Anything else come to you?”
One of his rolled-up shirtsleeves was undone. She moved closer and began folding it up. “I sensed an older female.”
“Randall’s wife?”
Without any conscious effort, her fingers trailed down the inside of his arm and lightly touched his wrist. “Sarah? I can’t be sure.”
When he didn’t answer, she glanced up. His eyes were on her face. She looked down to where she was openly caressing his wrist. Startled, she let go of him.
“There you are!” Dr. Madison danced a little jig. “We’re all set up. Come on.”
They were in the dining room. Jane was using a handheld camera, Steve was operating the boom, and Darryl, the lighting guy, had brightened the room considerably. Anjali, Scott, Coulter, and Dr. Madison were sitting at the table.
“No séances,” Anjali said firmly before Dr. Madison opened her mouth.
“But my dear, how else will we contact Molly?”
“Séances open the door too far, I—I just can’t…”
“I have another idea,” Scott said and placed a pad of paper and a pen in front of Anjali. “Has everyone heard of automatic writing?”
Jane smiled at him from behind the camera lens. “Why don’t you explain it for the audience?”
“Normally automatic writing is when you ask a question, and then let your hand move across the page, writing whatever comes into your mind. But in Anjali’s case, as a telepath, she’ll ask the spirit a question and begin writing, waiting for the spirit to answer.”
“Oh goody,” Dr. Madison said eagerly. “Let’s begin.”
Anjali picked up the pen. “What do I ask and to whom do I ask it?”
“Be general,” Scott said. “Ask the house what it wants.”
“Just a casual chat,” she said and picked up the pen. “Whoever you are? What do you want?” She began scrawling across the page, not writing words, just swirls of the pen line after line.
She reached the bottom of the page, turned it over, and started again. In seconds she had reached the bottom of that page and started on another page. After she had filled up five pages of scrawls, she looked up. “Absolutely nothing.”
“Turn around, Angel,” Coulter said quietly.
She turned to see her name scrawled across the dining room wall in large letters.
“Oh my God,” Jane said.
“How wonderful.” Dr. Madison gasped. “Just like at the Borley Rectory.”
“The house wants me?” Anjali said weakly.
Scott stared at the wall. “Ask another question.”
Coulter reached out and took her hand. She was glad for the support. Taking a deep breath, she asked, “Who are you?”
Slowly letters began to form under her name. M-O-L-L-Y.
“Are you getting this, Jane?” Dr. Madison asked.
“Damn straight.”
Dr. Madison’s eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed. “I was right. I knew we would contact Molly. After more than a hundred years, my dear, Molly has chosen to reach out to you.”
“Personally I would have reached out to Angelina Jolie,” Coulter drawled. Anjali shot him a dirty look and pulled away her hand.
For the next hour, the group had Anjali ask the spirit question after question, but no more words appeared on the walls.
“I think we should take a break,” Scott said and stood.
Coulter yawned and stretched. “Fine by me.”
Dr. Madiso
n patted Anjali’s hand. “Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure Molly will contact us again.”
“I’m not worried,” Anjali began. “In fact—”
“So.” Jane strolled to Scott’s side and smiled up at him. “What’s the plan?”
“Simple,” Scott said. “We wait.”
Rain pattered against the roof.
The house was bathed in darkness except for the sitting room, which was lit by the glow of the fire crackling in the fireplace.
Dr. Madison was asleep on the sofa.
Coulter, Anjali, Scott, and Darryl were playing poker by the fire. Between the three of them they already owed Coulter more than five thousand dollars.
Jane sat down next to them and took out a cigarette. She caught Anjali’s eyes and with a sigh tucked it behind her ear. “Where’s Scott?”
“Fold,” Anjali said and put down her cards. “He wanted to do another walk-through.” And didn’t ask for company.
Jane leaned over and gazed at Steve’s cards. “You’re in. Ante up.”
Steve folded instead. “I can’t afford this.”
“Neither can I,” Darryl said and folded as well.
Coulter set down his cards with a flourish. “Read ’em and weep.”
Steve’s eyes widened. “I could’ve beat you!”
“Told you,” Jane said and turned back to Anjali. “You haven’t got dibs on him, have you? Your boss?”
“What? Scott?” Anjali asked.
“He’s single,” Coulter said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Very available.”
Jane grinned. “I did get that vibe.”
Anjali couldn’t decide whether she was more annoyed with Jane or with Coulter. She caught Coulter’s eye. He was practically laughing at her. Okay, Coulter then. No wait. She was mostly annoyed at herself. Did she like Scott? What had happened in the kitchen? And did this place have a liquor cabinet?
The door to the parlor burst open. Scott strode in. “I need you guys to come with me upstairs. There’s something you should see.”
Anjali, Coulter, and Jane followed Scott up to the second floor. Darryl and Steve stayed behind with the snoozing Dr. Madison.
They entered the first bedroom to the left of the landing.
It was now in shambles.
Covers pulled from the bed. Furniture upturned. The vanity mirror hung at a crazy angle.
“What the hell happened?” Coulter asked.
“There’s more,” Scott said.
The remaining rooms on the second floor were in the same condition.
“The Booth family is not going to like this,” Anjali said.
Scott checked the readings on the EMF, then looked up. “The Booth descendants rarely come by. A caretaker couple does the bare minimum to keep the place from falling to the elements.”
“Something’s happening,” Coulter said. “I can feel it.” He held out his hand, the fine hairs were standing up, the air was charged. Suddenly the door slammed shut.
Jane ran and tugged at the handle. “It won’t open!”
“Hang on.” Coulter stared at the door and focused. It flew open.
Darryl and Steve stood there, faces flushed, chests heaving. “What happened?” Darryl said. “We heard you calling us.” He stared at Anjali.
“Me?”
“You were screaming for help,” Steve said. “We came as fast as we could. The door wouldn’t open and then”—he paused in wonder—“it did.”
“I didn’t call you,” Anjali said and looked at Scott.
“Dr. Madison,” he said.
They ran down the stairs, Scott in the lead. They burst into the sitting room. It was empty. Dr. Madison was gone.
40
“We have to split up,” Scott said.
They were standing in the sitting room. Darryl and Steve wore identical expressions of guilt.
“It’s not your fault,” Anjali said. “It…they…she…whatever, used my voice. Creepy.”
“We’ll go in two groups and cover the house and the grounds,” Scott instructed. “Everyone has each other’s cell phone number, right?”
Coulter looked over at Steve’s phone. “That’s one tiny machine.”
“I can bid on eBay with it,” Steve said.
“Really?” Coulter moved in for a closer look. “Hey Wilder.” He looked up. “What kind of crap did you give me?”
Scott ignored him. “If anyone gets into trouble, call.”
“I think we should search the inside first,” Anjali said.
Scott agreed. “I’ll take two people with me to search outside. You take the inside.”
“I’m going with you,” Jane said to Scott.
“Coulter, Jane, and I will take the grounds. Anjali, you, Darryl, and Steve take the house.”
“Fine,” Anjali said, trying to conceal her annoyance and not succeeding. Then again, she wasn’t trying very hard. “But I don’t see why we can’t all search the house and grounds together?”
“It’s faster this way,” Scott said and left, Jane by his side.
Coulter hung back. “I did you a favor.”
Anjali stared at him. “What?”
“You’re jealous, aren’t you? The first step is admittin’ it. Now you know how you really feel about the guy so stop wasting time.” He strolled off.
Darryl and Steve huddled together. “What do we do?”
Anjali sighed. “Shaggy, Scooby, come with me.”
The grass was wet with mist and Coulter couldn’t see hide nor tail of the exuberant Dr. Madison.
“Look,” Scott said softly.
Ahead of them the carousel was slowly going round and round.
“Oh my God,” Jane said and stepped closer to Scott, entwining her arm with his.
Coulter walked up to the carousel and touched one of the horses as it went by. A soft energy flowed through him.
Anjali explored the third floor, followed by Darryl and Steve.
She could hear them whispering behind her. She stopped in the middle of the hallway and they almost bumped into her. “What are you two whispering about?”
“Your boss and Jane,” Steve said.
“Why?”
“Well, it keeps our minds off the fact that we’re scared to death.”
“I didn’t sign up for this,” Darryl said. “I’m just the lighting guy. I thought it was all going to be a big joke. Like the time Geraldo tried to raise the Titanic. I’d rather be back in Iraq with a news crew.”
“Flying bullets we understand,” Steve said. “But writing on the walls? Voices that don’t exist?”
“I hear ya,” she said. “We’ll do a quick search and then meet up with the others. In the meantime, tell me about Jane and my boss.”
“Jane’s definitely interested,” Darryl said. “She’s a wild one and she likes guys who are conservative, figures she can teach them a thing or two.”
“The men love her cool façade,” Steve said.
Anjali rolled her eyes.
“No, they do,” Steve insisted as they moved down the hallway. “They find her exciting.”
A quick but thorough examination of the rest of the floor proved futile.
But she did get to hear all about Jane’s charming quirks and traits.
“She’s a rising star in documentary filmmaking,” Darryl said as they headed for the stairs. “And—”
A piercing male scream erupted from behind them.
Anjali whirled around. “Where’s Steve?”
Darryl’s face was white with fright. “He was right behind us. Steve!”
Anjali raced back the way they’d come and found Steve staggering out of the last bedroom. “Pain,” he gasped. “So much pain.”
She grabbed him by the shoulders. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“Blister on my foot…popped…just now.”
Darryl shoved him hard. “Christ! You’re a jackass!”
Anjali let out a deep breath and counted to three. “I’m going downstairs. D
o you want to sit down, Steve?”
“I can walk,” he said and began limping after them.
A half hour had passed, and Scott, Coulter, and Jane still hadn’t located Dr. Madison.
They were heading back up to the house when Scott saw Anjali crossing the lawn toward the carousel, trailed by Darryl and a limping Steve.
Scott sped up, realized Jane was still holding on to him, and reluctantly pulled her along. Coulter jogged after them.
Anjali had her hand on the carousel. “The twins, can you feel them?”
“Definitely,” Coulter said.
“What happened inside?” Scott asked.
Anjali looked at him and then down to where his arm was entwined with Jane’s. Scott quickly untangled himself. “Mrs. Booth is in the house, not Molly,” she said. “I mean, she was in the house. I set her to rest.”
“We saw it,” Darryl said. “There was this loud sobbing and then the room became warm.”
“Get it on film?” Jane asked.
“We got it,” Steve said. “Anybody have a Band-Aid?”
“The twins have been playing with us all along then,” Scott said.
Anjali nodded. “Pretending to be Molly.” She frowned and looked toward the lake. “Something’s there.” She began walking toward the water.
Coulter and Scott followed behind her. They walked down the grassy bank, and Anjali veered right and began wading through a clump of waist-high bushes. She stopped and stared at the ground.
They ran to her side. Lying in the middle of the bushes was Dr. Madison.
After a hot cup of tea with lots of sugar, Dr. Madison was her usual perky self and absolutely thrilled she’d almost been the victim of a haunting. “I heard the girls calling to me down by the water. I was so excited, I started running. I must have fallen.”
According to Anjali, Mrs. Booth shot her husband, Randall. Even after his affair with Molly resulted in the death of their daughters, Randall still continued with his philandering and took up with another woman just one year later.
Jane, Darryl, and Steve readied themselves in the dining room to film the removal of the twins’ spirits.