“Welcome in! I’m Marian Vale,” she smiled brightly and held her arms wide. “We’ve been expecting you?”
This morning, everything except her name was a lie – well, she was born Mary Valencia, so really everything was a lie. Marian wasn’t particularly welcoming, and the ‘we’ she referred to—her spirit guide, Thomas—hadn’t given her any indication he was around today. While not unprecedented, Marian wasn’t about to turn away a paying customer – it just meant she was going to have to wing it (her euphemism for “completely making it up”). Oh, and she wasn’t expecting anyone – she was actually hoping it would be a quiet day until Thomas returned.
But, alas, the bell over the door dinged indicating a customer, err, client, so the show must go on!
The woman looked nervous – though Marian thought they almost always looked nervous. Still, she came in anyway. She could tell immediately from the bloodshot eyes and puffy cheeks the woman had been crying a lot. And, while it was cool outside, it wasn’t cold, so the men’s field coat around her shoulders seemed somewhat out of place. The elbows were worn smooth and the shoulder seams faded in a way that suggested years of reaching, lifting, and carrying. The pockets sagged slightly from use. This hadn’t been a coat saved for special occasions; someone had lived in it. “You’re mourning your husband…” Marian said consolingly. When the woman’s head snapped up and the bloodshot eyes met her own, she knew she was on the mark.
“How… how did you know?” The woman shook her head, “You’re a psychic… of course…”
“Oh, my dear…” Marian patted the woman’s arm. “You’re looking to contact your beloved?”
“I… I am… Oh, this is stupid…”
“No, no – umm, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”
“Michelle,” the woman offered.
“Of course, Michelle. Would you like to step into the parlor?”
Michelle’s eyes darted nervously around the front room and then settled on the beaded curtain Marian had gestured towards. Her eyes found Marian’s again and she nodded tentatively.
They moved into the room and both women moved tentatively as their eyes took a moment to adjust to the more diffuse, gentle lighting.
“Please, take a seat,” Marian gestured towards a seat at the dark wood table. Michelle sat while Marian went to the cabinet against one wall. When she came back she set an ornate wooden Ouija board and darker polished walnut planchette on the table. If Thomas were around, Marian wouldn’t use this prop, but she knew cold reading could only get her so far, and the Ouija board would help her sell it. You’re still not here, Thomas? She sent the thoughts mentally in the way she would normally contact the spirit world. Silence.
Marian looked up and saw Michelle looking at the board dubiously. Marian smiled warmly, “Ah, you’re familiar with the Spirit Board.”
Michelle nodded.
“They have a poor reputation, it’s true. That’s mostly due to the cheap cardboard and plastic versions being marketed to hapless children who have no idea how to handle the unseen forces they unwittingly tap into. But with myself acting as a conduit, you’re in good hands.” She finished with a warm smile. What Marian didn’t say was when Thomas wasn’t here, the spooky aura of the Ouija board helped her sell whatever message she was trying to pass off as spiritual guidance.
“Here, place the fingertips on the board just next to the planchette and I’ll do the same. Let’s close our eyes and take ten seconds and clear our minds and silently entreat spirits from the other side to join us. Take a deep breath in and think about who you want to contact. Now breathe it out slowly. Once again, in… and out…” Seriously, Thomas, now would be a great time to show up… Nothing.
“Alright, rest just the tips of your fingers on the planchette. Just like that, yes. Oh! Look at that, it’s moving on its own already!”
It wasn’t. Marian was guiding it gently in little circles.
“You’re not moving it, are you?” Marian asked Michelle, knowing full well it was she moving the planchette herself.
The movements of the planchette picked up and it started to slide gently towards the “I” and then “L” and then “O”, “V”, “E”, “Y”, “O”, “U”, “M” and then it stilled.
“I love you, M,” Marian repeated.
Michelle gasped as Marian smiled at the woman. “We’ve made contact! Do you have any direct questions for your love?”
“Are… are you at peace?” Michelle spoke the words looking around the room.
Marian guided the planchette up to the “Yes” word, before moving to “B”, “U”, “T”, “I”, “M”, “I”, “S”, “S”, “U”.
“He’s at peace but he misses you,” she met Michelle’s gaze which was hopeful for the first time since she walked in.
Michelle’s lower lip trembled. “I miss you too.”
Marian relaxed slightly. Maybe she could get through this after all.
The planchette moved.
Marian frowned – She hadn’t moved it.
It slid slowly away from the final letter and back toward the top of the board, to the “No.”
“No?” Michelle’s face fell with the word.
Marian tried to exert control over the planchette, but she could only push so much without it being obvious she was influencing the movement, and the planchette was moving with more force than she could counter.
Michelle read the letters as they revealed themselves: “N-O-T-A-T-P-E-A-C-E – Not at peace?”
Before Marian could say anything, Michelle hurriedly asked, “Why are you not at peace?!”
“T-H-E-C-O-A-T – the coat?” Michelle repeated, then nearly jumped as she realized it must be the coat she was wearing. “This coat?”
Y-E-S.
“What about this coat?”
R-I-G-H-T-P-O-C-K-E-T-H-O-L-E
“That’s weird…” Michelle said.
“Why?” Marian asked.
“There is a hole in the right pocket, but… so what?”
The planchette moved again: K-E-Y-F-A-L-L
“Key fall? OH!” Michelle stabbed her right hand into the right jacket pocket of the field coat. Marian could hear the ripping of fabric as the outline of Michelle’s fingers pushing down past where the pocket would have ended. Michelle’s eyes lit up. “A Key! It fell through the hole in the pocket!” She stared at the key before asking, “Where does this go?”
With both women’s left hands still resting on the planchette, it moved to the numbers row: 3-5-2-1. Then up to the letters: S-A-F-E-D-E-P-O-S-I-T.
“A safe deposit box? What’s in it?”
N-E-S-T-E-G-G
Michelle’s eyes went wide. “You kept our money in the safe deposit box?” Tears began to roll down her face. “You idiot,” she sniffled. “When I saw our savings account was zeroed out I called you every name I could think of…”
The planchette moved: I-H-E-A-R-D-S-O-R-R-Y.
Michelle laughed. “I miss you, dummy.”
I-M-I-S-S-Y-O-U.
Michelle leaned back in her seat, drawing her hand back from the planchette, her body racked with silent sobs as she clutched the key in her fist.
Marian regarded her silently, giving the woman her space. Movement caught her eye and she saw the planchette move on its own – with no one touching it.
T-H-O-M-A-S-S-A-Y-S-H-I.
