by Megan Atwood
Jackson felt the urge to explain himself. But instead he went to the back of the store and began looking at the spirit boards.
He didn’t realize there were so many kinds. He could get a witchcraft one, a hexagonal one, a simple, no-frills one, a glow-in-the-dark one, one with dice, one with cards...he just didn’t know what to choose. He glanced back at the shopkeeper and then squared his shoulders. He’d ask, even though she clearly thought the boards were an embarrassment.
He walked toward shelf of crystals she was dusting and said, “I don’t know which one to get.”
She waved her hand and didn’t look at him. “Oh, any of them will do for your purposes, I’m sure.”
Jackson cleared his throat again. “Actually...I’m not doing this with a friend. I want to contact...” He swallowed. For some reason, saying it out loud, to another person, made him blush. He had never even told Jinx—he didn’t think he ever could. But he continued. “I want to contact my father.”
The shopkeeper put her duster down slowly, turning to look Jackson in the eye. Jackson could see pity on the woman’s face—something he hated—but also some respect. He didn’t mind the last part.
She became all business and led Jackson to the back of the store. “What you’ll want is the standard Ouija board,” she said, eyes sparkling. “Glow-in-the-dark has the same arrangement of letters, but really, that’s for people who don’t take this seriously.” She grabbed the plainest board and handed it to Jackson.
He took it and looked it over. After a beat, he asked the question that he most wanted answered. And the one he was most afraid of. “Does it work?”
She stopped in her tracks and looked very seriously at him. “Yes. Sometimes. When the spirits are willing. And if there is a great enough need.”
Jackson wasn’t concerned about the last part. There was definitely a great enough need. He missed his dad like he would miss an arm. He just wanted one last conversation with him. Maybe some advice on how to be a good man. Advice on anything, really—he just wanted to hear his dad one last time.
After his and Jinx’s last case, Jackson knew without a doubt that ghosts existed. And if they did, that meant he had a chance to talk to his father. He had never been as happy as when the ghost at the Black Eagle Tavern threw glasses at the wall. Jackson’s hope had reared its head high.
The shopkeeper wasn’t done. She put her hand on his arm, and her eyes softened. “But dear, many times a spirit has crossed over and is gone from this place. Completely.” Jackson stiffened, but she held tighter to his arm. “And that’s a good thing,” the woman said softly. “So if you don’t receive the response you’re looking for...it’s probably a good sign.”
This was not what Jackson wanted to hear. He shrugged off the words. “When is the best time to try for communication?”
She let go of his arm, and her voice became businesslike again. “Midnight. Trite but true. And another trite but true piece of advice: wait for Halloween. Many ancient societies, and many modern ones as well, believe that is the time when the veil between worlds is thinnest.”
Jackson nodded. He didn’t think he could wait until Halloween. That was almost six weeks away. Maybe he’d give it a try beforehand.
He and the shopkeeper went to the cash register, and Jackson paid for the board. Before he left, she looked him carefully in the eyes. “I wish you luck, dear.”
Jackson nodded and felt a lump form in his throat. He walked out of the shop without thinking to look around. As he reached his car, board in hand, someone called out his name.
His head whipped up and turned from side to side. There, jogging toward him, was Haley Richards. Head cheerleader. Jinx’s nemesis. Most popular girl in school. Jackson swallowed. Busted.
She ran up to him and said, slightly out of breath, “Did you just buy a Ouija board?”
Jackson shrugged awkwardly.
Haley’s big green eyes stared at him. “I heard you in the shop.”
Jackson started. Haley had been in there? Doing what?
Haley continued. “I was going to buy one, too. I want to contact my grandma.” She looked at the ground, and Jackson could see the signs of a blush. “Can we do it together?”
Jackson leaned against the car. Well, he thought, life keeps getting stranger and stranger.
H
aley didn’t look Jackson in the eyes, and he knew enough not to say anything that would make her feel bad. So he said the only thing that made sense to him. “Do you want to come over right now and look at it?”
Haley’s eyes shone in response. She smiled and nodded. Then, a little bashfully, she said, “I walked here—do you think I could have a ride?”
Another surprise. Jackson knew Haley lived in a wealthy part of town, all the way on the other side. And she had a great car.
As if reading his mind, she said, “I was afraid someone would recognize me or my car.”
Jackson chuckled a little. “I know how you feel.” He walked to his car’s other side and opened the door for her. For some reason, he felt the urge to be chivalrous.
It was only when he turned the key in the ignition that he had the thought: Jinx would be furious.
No, furious wasn’t a strong enough word. Livid. Horrified. His mind drifted back to a word he’d had to spell in the regional spelling bee when he was in eighth grade: apoplectic. Yeah, Jinx wouldn’t like this one bit.
He gritted his jaw and backed out of the parking lot. Jinx was his best friend, but even she couldn’t understand what it was like to lose someone so important in life. Jackson could see in Haley’s eyes that her grandma was precious to her. Maybe he could finally talk about his hope to somehow, in some way, speak with his dad again.
He asked Haley softly, “When did your grandma pass away?”
She answered with tears in her voice. “She passed away two years ago. In the summer.”
Silence took over the car for a bit. Then Haley said, “I’m sorry about your dad.”
Jackson nodded. After three years, it was still hard to talk about.
Haley went on, “I remember when it happened. No one really knew what to say. We were so young, you know? I kept thinking about you, though. I hope you know that.”
The lump was back in Jackson’s throat, so he nodded again. To lighten the mood, he said, “So did you pick anything up at the store? Like any incense?”
Haley laughed. “I think I’ve had enough incense to last me a lifetime, thank you very much.”
“So, do you think we should wait for midnight before we try this thing?” Jackson said.
Haley twisted her lip, something that reminded Jackson of Jinx so much he practically felt a punch in the gut. “Hmm,” she said. “Maybe. But I don’t think my parents would like that too much.”
Jackson thought for a minute. “You ever sneak out?”
Haley snorted. “Like, all the time.”
Jackson’s excitement rose. “Do you think you could sneak over to my house at quarter to midnight? I’ll drop you off now, then you can come over and we can try the board.”
Haley thought for a minute and then said, “Probably not, actually. You live so far away I’d have to drive, and if my parents woke up and noticed my car gone...”
Jackson grinned. “How about I sneak into your house instead?”
She grinned back. “That’s perfect. Except we should wait until Wednesday, because my dad doesn’t work late. I’ll draw you a quick map of where my bedroom is. There’s a tree just outside my window that I always use to sneak out. It’s super easy to get back in, so I don’t think you’ll have any problems.”
Jackson blushed. “Uh, I remember where your room is.”
He felt Haley’s eyes on him. “Ohhhhhh!” she said. “From the party in seventh grade!”
Jackson nodded and laughed a little. “We had to do seven minutes in your closet.”
Haley laughed back. “Yeah, it was more like two and a half. And we were both so scared we didn’t even stand next to each other,
let alone kiss.”
Jackson started laughing harder, and Haley joined in. Soon they had reached Haley’s house, and they stopped laughing long enough for Haley to get out.
She stooped back through the car door and looked Jackson straight in the eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “I’ll see you Wednesday. Eleven forty-five. And we won’t even need the closet this time.”
Jackson smiled back.
In fact, he smiled the entire way home.
J
inx’s fingers flew over the keyboard. She’d tried calling, but the number was disconnected.
She would find this guy—if it was the last thing she did.
Jackson didn’t seem to be answering his phone or any texts—and she had tried both a million times—so it was up to her to figure it out. No one at school could give her a last name for Brian the imposter. Assuming Brian was really his name.
So far, she’d gone through every single post on the Paranormalator’s site. Every single one read eerily like the stuff on her and Jackson’s site. Nowhere could she find the address of the originator, even after searching for the IP address. This guy was good. In fact, a part of her kind of admired his stealth. Still, why hide his identity if he was bragging at school? Why bother copying her and Jackson at all? Jinx was baffled.
Her next step was to check the names of the crew members on Ghost Hunters. There were so many that Jinx went through three packets of Twizzlers before she’d added them to her list. Secretly, she was sort of excited about this part. She had always wanted to know the ins and outs of the show. And she would have to research them one by one to see if any of them had a family that lived in Portland.
In the meantime, though, she’d leave a little trap for this so-called Brian.
She clicked on the “Contact” section on the Paranormalator’s site and typed in a message. She loved these types of contact forms—all it would show the Paranormalator was the fake e-mail address Jinx had made—which would forward the reply along to her—and the message she sent:
Dear Paranormalator,
I’m hoping you can help me. I think my house is haunted, and it’s getting really scary. Can you tell me what your rates are and what we can do to get rid of the ghosts?
Sincerely,
Haley
Jinx thought that Haley was a good name to use. Why not? She smiled at herself and added the e-mail address she’d whipped up for just that purpose.
Done.
She just had to wait for the reply e-mail to bounce her way. Then she’d set up a meeting. And then pummel this guy.
She clicked open the Paranormalists dashboard and wrote a quick post.
Well, PFs, it looks like our site has its very own copycat. Is it true that imitation is the best form of flattery? If so, well...we’ve been well flattered.
I won’t tell you the name of the copycatter, because I have values and I am a nice person. But suffice it to say that we have been ripped off in a BIG way. Right down to the name on our website.
But, my loyal PFs, I know you’ll stay faithful to us. Why? Because we are the real deal. We’re an inseparable team dedicated to each other and the pursuit of the paranormal. And we report to you from knee-deep in investigations so true, they’ll haunt you at nights. Remember, we Paranormalists always SEEK THE TRUTH AND FIND THE CAUSE.
—Investigator #1
Jinx was just about to close her laptop when she heard the ding that meant she had another e-mail. Maybe it was Jackson finally getting back to her. She opened her mail and found she had a message from Mayhem on Mohawk Ave. Finally.
Hi Jinx,
Thanks for writing me back. I’m not ready to meet—I’m sort of hoping this will go away soon—but I may be ready later.
Anyway, things keep flying around my house. It happens only when I’m home and never when my parents are. Is that normal? I just moved here and I’m in the 8th grade, so I don’t have a lot of money. But if this doesn’t get any better, could I hire you and Investigator #2?
P.S. I love your site. It reminds me a lot of the Paranormalator. Did you know that that guy’s dad works on the Ghost Hunters crew?
I like your stories better, though, so I want to go with you. Let me know if I can do anything on my own to get this stuff to stop. I’d really appreciate it.
Peace,
Mayhem
Jinx slammed her laptop shut. “Ugh!” she cried to no one. This guy knew about the Paranormalator? Jinx was so irritated she could hardly stand it. She twisted her lip and picked up her phone, dialing Jackson for the millionth time.
Still no answer.
She threw the phone down on her bed and then heard her mother’s voice carry up the stairs. “Jane, can you come down here please?”
That voice was her you’re-in-trouble voice. And because Jinx rarely did anything too naughty, she knew there could be only reason for the talk: her overnight investigations.
She gulped and heard her mom yell up again, “Jane?” Her little brother chimed in with a singsong voice, “Jaaaneee! Come here!” She would have to kill him later. She made a mental note.
Walking down the stairs as slowly as possible, she tried to think of a way out of the mess. She could say that she had been drugged and kidnapped. Both times. No, that wouldn’t work. That she had hit her head and entered a fugue state? Equally bad. That she wasn’t really their daughter but an alien cyborg that had snuck out to study nighttime Earth phenomena?
As she reached the end of the stairs, Jinx saw both her mom and dad standing in front of the couch. Her mom had her hands behind her back.
“Jane, it has come to our attention...,” her dad began.
Her mother interrupted. “Jinx, honey.”
This took Jinx by surprise. Her mom never remembered to call her that.
Her dad hit himself in the head. “That’s right. OK, Jinx, it has come to our attention...”
Sweat trickled down Jinx’s spine, but her mom cut in excitedly, “...that you have been accepted into the Junior Scholars program through the U!”
Jinx blinked. Junior Scholars? She hadn’t even applied for that. It was some stupid program where you had to take college courses instead of high school courses to get a “head start” in college. And who would want to take harder classes?
Her mom nodded. “I know, I know, you didn’t really apply. But I sent in your grades and your standardized scores, and they accepted you! Isn’t that great, honey?”
She came over to Jinx, but Jinx stepped away. “Well, no! I didn’t apply for a reason.” She glared at her mom.
Her mother glanced at her dad, and he nodded. “We were afraid you’d say that. So, we have another nugget of good news that’s relevant. You are looking at the new vice president of BriteCorp!”
Jinx blinked again. “Congratulations,” she said grudgingly.
Her mom nodded. “It’s great for everyone. For instance, I can now get some things for you kids that maybe you’ve wanted for forever.” She looked hard at Jinx. “Like, say, an infrared camera.” She flourished a package from behind her back.
Jinx nearly fainted. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she yelled and then made a squealing sound she had no idea she could make. She reached her hands out for it, but before she could grab it, her mom said, “But this is a full-on bribe, Jinx. If you do Junior Scholars, you can have the camera.”
Jinx’s shoulders slumped. “That’s blackmail.”
“It sure is!” her dad said cheerily. “But with love.”
“Fine, I’ll do Junior Scholars,” Jinx muttered. Visions of homework swam in her head.
Then her mom handed her the camera, and all was forgotten.
Jinx raced up the stairs, yelling “Thanks!” behind her, ready to rip off the packaging and start trying out the new camera.
But first, she needed to tell Jackson.
She dialed his number again. Straight to voicemail.
She sent a text. Where r u? I have news.
After waiting for an
excruciating three minutes, she wrote him an e-mail.
Hey dingus,
Where are you? I have awesome news. Also, that Mayhem person who needs our help wrote back, but isn’t ready to meet. I’ll write back tonight and see if I can’t talk them into it. They’re only in the 8th grade, though, so we probably won’t get paid. But that’s OK because that means I get to try out my new equipment! What equipment you ask? You’ll just have to wait and see.
Also, I’ve made some headway on the evil Brian guy and I’ve set a trap. We may be meeting him soon. More to come.
Waiting waiting waiting
J
Jinx shut her laptop and took one last look at her phone. Jackson always called back within minutes. And he never left a text unanswered. She twisted her lip and wondered whether she should call his mom.
She knew he’d kill her for that, though, so she dismissed the idea. And anyway, she had an awesome camera to look at.
Still, even as she turned out the lights and tried out the new infrared, she wondered, where was Jackson?
O
n Wednesdays, Jackson had football meetings in the morning, so Jinx got a ride from her mom. She told herself for the millionth time that she needed her own car.
As she walked to her locker, her iPhone pinged. She scanned the e-mail and a thrill ran through her. It was from the Paranormalator—he’d taken the bait.
Dear Haley,
You chose the right person to write to—my site is the REAL site to go to when you have a haunting problem. I’d be happy to meet you. I don’t know where you are located, but if you are near Jefferson High or if you go there, I’ll be at the picnic tables outside the cafeteria at 12:00. You can find me there. Otherwise, let’s set up a time to meet.
Remember, the Paranormalator always SEEKS KNOWLEDGE AND FINDS THE SOURCE.
Sincerely,
Brian – Portland’s #1 Ghost Hunter
Jinx growled. #1 Ghost Hunter her butt. No way was this guy for real. She shook it off—her plan had worked. She would be able to meet this infamous Brian and tell him off, once and for all.