Waiting Spirits (6 page)

She smiled at the imaginary picture.

It wasn't until a moment later that she realized her hand was moving.

Lisa looked at the paper in disgust. It was covered with a series of looping scrawls. If any message was hidden there it was beyond her comprehension. The whole thing looked as if it had been done by a baby, or maybe a crazy person. She wadded the paper into a ball and tossed it in the wastebasket.

She hesitated, then placed her hand on the next sheet of paper. She closed her eyes and began to concentrate on emptying her mind. It was a little easier this time, but her hand lay still and unmoving.

Suddenly Lisa shivered.

Someone else was in the room. She could sense the presence as surely as if it had been announced with a trumpet fanfare.

Yet everything was silent.

She looked round uneasily. “Where are you?” she asked, her voice quavering.

No answer.

Lisa jumped. A drop of water had fallen on her wrist. She looked at it as if water were something she had never seen before.

It was followed by another drop, then another.

She looked up. The water was dripping from the ceiling.

She jumped out of her chair and pulled up the shade.

The sky was clear. And in five days of rain the ceiling had not leaked once. So where was the water coming from?

Lisa looked around the room again. “What does it mean?” she whispered. “Why is this happening?”

No one answered.

But the ceiling continued to drip.

And somewhere in the distance, Lisa heard the sound of a woman weeping.

“Lisa, it's for you!”

Lisa came to with a start. She had been listening to the weeping woman, and must have fallen into a sort of trance. She was slightly shocked to realize she was sitting at her desk. The last she remembered, she had been standing. Pushing the chair back, she hurried into the hallway.

“I've got it!” she called, picking up the upstairs extension.

“Hi, Lisa. Want to go roller-blading?”

“I'd love to! Let me check with my folks.”

She set down the phone and gave herself a little hug. After their discussion on the beach earlier that day, she hadn't been sure she would
ever
hear from Brian again—though once they had agreed to drop the topic of the house things had been quite friendly.

Her happy feelings were quickly squashed. “I'm sorry, Lisa,” said her mother apologetically. “But your father and I are taking your grandmother to visit some of her old island friends, and I don't want to leave Carrie alone.”

Lisa's face reflected her disappointment.

“Maybe you can have Brian over here,” said her mother quickly. “I don't think there would be anything wrong with that, do you, Martin?”

Lisa held her breath while her father made up his mind.

Finally he nodded and said, “I suppose it's all right, as long as Carrie is here.”

Lisa scowled; she resented the implication that there would be something wrong if Carrie wasn't going to be “chaperoning” them. But she was so pleased to be able to invite Brian over that she refused to get upset by it.

“Thanks, Mom. Dad. Thanks a lot.”

She sprinted back up the stairs and snatched up the phone. “It's no go,” she said, panting. “But you can come over if you want to. I have to stay with Carrie and… “ Her voice trailed off as she realized how dull it all sounded. If she had been afraid of boring him the night before, this really ought to do it.

“Is it okay with your folks?”

She was so surprised she nearly dropped the receiver. “Sure! I mean, if you really want to.”

“Hey, look,” Brian said. “If I didn't want to, I wouldn't.” His voice suddenly turned serious. “Besides, I don't like the idea of them going off and leaving the two of you alone in that place.”

Lisa was torn between gratitude and a desire to tell Brian that she could take care of herself very well, thank you, and hang up. But his self-deprecating laugh took the edge off his words. “I don't know what good it will do to have me there if anything starts up,” he said. “But I'd feel better knowing you're not alone.”

She smiled. “Good. We'll be waiting for you.

She set the receiver gently into the cradle. Living in a haunted house did have
some
advantages!

The video Brian had brought with him was over, the last kernel of popcorn consumed.

“Don't you think you'd better go to bed?” Lisa said to Carrie.

“What for? It's Saturday night. You're supposed to stay up on Saturday night.”

Lisa threw a hopeless glance at Brian, but he was smiling. Carrie's presence didn't seem to bother him at all.

“Let's play Monopoly!” cried Carrie, as if she had just had a revelation.

“I thought you were bored sick with Monopoly,” said Lisa.

“I was tired of playing with
you,”
said her sister airily. “It's different now that Brian's here. Too bad Gramma isn't home. Then we could play bridge.”

“I don't know how,” said Brian.

“We'll teach you,” replied Carrie glibly. “Then you'll be ready for the next time we have a chance. I'll get the cards.”

“Maybe Brian doesn't wants to learn,” said Lisa tartly.

“Oh, I don't mind. We'll work at it till your folks get home. Then I'll have to get going.”

Lisa felt her heart sink. She was dying to spend some time alone with Brian.

“Great!” cried Carrie. “I'll be right back.” She scrambled up the stairway.

“I'm sorry,” said Lisa, when she was out of sight.

Brian waved his hand. “Don't be so uptight. I don't know what's worrying you. You and your sister are fun to be with. You've got a good sense of humor. You don't talk when it's not necessary. When you do say something, it makes sense. I'm having a good time. Relax, will you?”

He smiled at her. Lisa smiled back, delighted by his words.

“Here they are!” yelled Carrie, bounding down the stairs. “We couldn't have played Monopoly anyway. The board's still sticky….”

Lisa laughed and told Brian the story of the orange soda. It didn't seem possible it was only two days ago they had caused the mess.

“That was what got us started on the automatic writing,” she said, finishing the tale. She paused uncomfortably. She hadn't really meant to talk about that.

Brian nodded.

Lisa busied herself with shuffling the cards.

Carrie looked from Lisa to Brian and back again. “You know,” she said softly, “we don't have to play bridge.”

Suddenly the silence grew heavier. Brian and Lisa looked at each other across the table.

“Your grandmother—” began Brian.

Carrie cut him off. “Oh, come on. I like Gramma, but she's not here right now.” Her eyes were flashing. “What do you say?”

Lisa hesitated. It was the oddest thing. She really didn't want to stir up anything else. Yet she had a fantastic urge to follow Carrie's unspoken suggestion and try the automatic writing again. She was so curious about what someone was trying to communicate to them! Lisa glanced at Brian. He seemed distinctly uneasy. Yet she could read it in his eyes—he was curious, too. Their gazes locked. She felt a sense of challenge, and the excitement of doing something weird and dangerous together.

“Let's give it a try,” he whispered.

Lisa felt a chill run down her spine. What was it that made something forbidden, something possibly dangerous, so incredibly appealing?

Without a word, she began to gather up the cards. Carrie jumped up and ran to get the paper and pencils. “It's my turn,” she said when she came back. She set the paper in front of her, picked up a pencil, and said, “Will you light the candle, Brian?”

He struck a match and did as she asked. Lisa turned off the lamp nearest to the table. She left on the lamp that stood on the far side of the parlor, not wanting to take a chance on the candle going out and leaving them in total darkness.

She reached across the table and took Brian's hand. His face was intent, almost grim, and she wondered if he regretted saying yes to the experiment. She caught his eye, asking the question silently.

He shook his head. “Let's get started,” he whispered.

“Take my elbows,” said Carrie. “Lisa, you give the call.” She closed her eyes and set the pencil on the paper, waiting expectantly.

Lisa paused for a moment, then began to speak. “O spirits from the other side, if there are any here who wish to communicate with us, now is the time. Give us your message.”

They waited in silence, scarcely daring to breathe.

Nothing happened.

Carrie opened her eyes, and her disappointment was clear on her face. “I guess the spirits don't like me,” she said almost bitterly.

There was a little
plink
as a drop of water fell from the ceiling.

“What was that?” cried Carrie. She looked up. Another drop struck the table. “Ohmigosh!” she yelled. “The bathtub must be running. Who turned it on? Come on, you guys!” She bolted away from the table and started up the stairs. Brian and Lisa were close behind her.

But when they reached the bathroom, they stopped. “I don't get it,” said Carrie, a puzzled expression on her face. “There's no water here at all. What's going on?”

“Maybe there's a pipe leaking,” said Brian.

“That could be,” said Lisa. “But I don't really think so.”

Brian turned to her. “Why not?”

She told him what had happened earlier that evening.

“This place is wackier than I thought,” he said. Taking Lisa's hand, he headed back toward the stairway. Carrie followed close at their heels.

The ceiling was still dripping. They took their places at the table and stared at the little puddle that had formed in the center of it. Brian reached out and touched it with the tip of his finger, then placed his finger on his tongue.

He made a face. “It's not salt water,” he said. “But it has a swampy taste to it. A little like a fish tank. Or at least it tastes the way a fish tank smells.”

“Shhh!” said Carrie. Her eyes grew wide. She reached across the table and took Lisa's hand, squeezing it so hard that it hurt.

Lisa squeezed back. She reached out and took Brian's hand. She knew that he heard it, too.

An adult imitating a childish voice, high and piping, was calling out somewhere above them, “Mother? Mother, where are you?”

Lisa felt the small hairs on the back of her neck begin to rise. The voice stopped. Another took its place. Lisa felt a lump in her throat block the scream she wanted to release.

“Carrie?” called the voice. It was desperate. “Carrie, where are you, darling? I'm looking for you!”

Lisa looked at her sister. She was trembling, her face white with terror. Lisa could see she was struggling with herself, straining to resist some impulse.

Finally she gave in. “Here I am!” she cried at last. “Here! Here!”

The candle roared up as it had the night before.

There was a rush of wind and then another sound, strange and unexpected. Lisa looked toward the stairway and choked back a cry of terror. Water was pouring down the steps. Green and swampy looking, it flowed like a waterfall, gathering in a pool at the base of the stairs.

“No!” roared Brian. He yanked his hand away from Lisa's and sprang to his feet. The circle was broken. Instantly the candle's flame dwindled to its normal size. The water stopped running. The puddle at the base of the stairs disappeared.

But somewhere far above her Lisa could hear the hysterical sobbing of a woman who sounded as though her heart was breaking.

She looked at Brian and Carrie.

Their faces were blank.

She didn't need to ask. She could tell that now she was the only one who could hear it.

Chapter Six
The Furious Apparition

A flash of light along the living room wall signaled a car entering the driveway. They could hear the sound of tires crunching on gravel.

“It's Mom and Dad!” cried Lisa. “Put these things away! I don't want them to know what we've been up to.”

With a single sweep of her arm Carrie cleared the table of the incriminating pencils and papers. As she rushed to hide them, Lisa bolted for the television set and switched it on. Then all three of them scrambled for the sofa.

They settled in as the tube began to glow.

A scream pierced the night.

“Great,” muttered Lisa as the front door opened. “Just what we need; a Freddy Krueger movie!”

“Lisa!” whispered Carrie. “They're never going to believe
this!”

Lisa looked at her sister in puzzlement, then suddenly realized that she was sitting at one end of the couch, with Brian at the other, and Carrie in between! Lisa and Carrie fumbled to change places quickly and quietly. Lisa was just settling against Brian when her father walked into the room and boomed, “Hello, kids! Have a nice evening?”

Lisa flinched. She hated it when her father acted overenthusiastic in front of her friends. She knew he meant well. But it always embarrassed her.

Her mother and grandmother appeared in the doorway behind him, looking slightly frazzled.

“Hello, girls,” said her mother. “Hello, Brian.”

When Brian stood to greet them, Mr. Burton said in an impressed voice, “Manners! I like that.”

Lisa flinched again.

Mrs. Burton stepped forward and took her husband's arm. “Come on, Martin. We're interrupting the movie.”

“What? Oh, sure, sure. You kids have a good time,” he said as his wife steered him toward the stairs.

Dr. Miles remained standing at the door to the living room.

“Did
you
have a good time, Gramma?” asked Carrie.

The old woman nodded. “As a matter of fact, I did. But I began to feel uneasy around the time we left. And just before we got home, I had an awful feeling that…” She looked at them searchingly. “Are you three all right?”