Chapter Seven
I never know when my visions or trances will hit me.
Sometimes it’s when I’m just hanging out with Celia or playing with my cats Eleanor, Buckley, and Natalie, at home. Most of the time it’s when I’m in deep R.E.M.
This time, it’s like everything around me freezes in a stop-motion way. If someone had just come through the room, tripped, and spilled a bag of popcorn, the kernels would be dangling in the air, frozen in time while my vision comes and goes.
Slowly, I look over to my right and see my spirit guide, Anona, materialize.
She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever seen or met in person. Of Native American decent, Anona stands before me barefoot, wearing a long, tan cloak with leather ties at the neck and waist. Her long, shiny black hair is straight and pulled to one side. Her dark brown eyes show her intense concern over what’s going on here.
“Kendall, you’re delving into an area you shouldn’t mess with,” she warns.
I shake my head, foggy almost from the daze I’m in. “I’m not doing it, Anona.”
“There are dark forces at work in this universe that we don’t understand.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Christian? Is he a dark force?”
She shakes her head. “That boy is a fool.”
“I can’t stop him,” I tell her, not even feeling my lips move.
Anona spreads her arms wide. “I can’t protect you against this, Kendall.”
“What is it, though?”
“You’ve gone too far from my reach,” Anona says. “There’s nothing I can do.”
I seriously don’t get what she’s telling me. My spirit guides constantly speak to me in riddles and puzzles. Why can’t they just say what’s on their mind? “You promised you’d take care of me.”
“There is another,” she says softly. “Another who is watching over you.”
I perk up some from my stupor. “Emily? She’s back?” I ask, almost begging. As soon as Emily, my first spirit guide, revealed herself to me as my birth mother… I lost her. She’d been with me my whole life, but as soon as I knew the truth, it allowed her to pass into the light. Great for her. Sucked for me. She’d sent Anona to be with me on the other side. But I want my mother. “Emily? Is she here again? Is she with me? Anona! Talk to me! Tell me!”
Anona brings her head down and closes her eyes, unanswering. And then she fades away.
Just like that, everything begins to move around me again, as though nothing unusual happened to me.
I have no idea how long I was out, or if anyone even noticed my spell-like state.
Patrick is over in the corner talking to Oliver. Taylor is setting up video cameras around the room. Maddie and Jess have their digital recorders out to try and capture electronic voice phenomena (EVP), while Celia is in full tech geek mode getting base readings of Mrs. Flanders’s house with her EMF detector. Jason’s tagging along with her, taking notes. At least he’s doing something useful and helpful instead of glowering.
Christian and Jayne set up at the nearby table, with him polishing up his Ouija board as Jayne sets out the planchette—the wooden pointer used on the board.
I rub my head trying to ease the throbbing of my psychic headache that always follows one of my vision trips. Or maybe it’s in anticipation of what’s to come this evening.
The doorbell rings.
Mrs. Flanders excuses herself.
Oliver follows her.
Patrick glances over at me and smiles weakly. He knows something that I can’t sense.
But I don’t need to, because everything’s revealed when two guys bumble into the living room with a video camera and sound equipment.
“Thanks for coming so quickly,” Oliver says. “We definitely want to get this on film. It’ll be great for the sizzle reel we’re going to pitch to the network.”
Taylor’s bright smile clicks into place. “We’re going to be on television?”
“No way,” Jess says.
Oliver twists his mustache. “Actually, I’ve had an idea, based on Christian’s experiences here in the UK, to feature him on a new show. It’s all in the development stage right now, but this is the ideal event to film and see how everything looks.”
My spirit sinks and I feel myself slouch into the sofa. “So, we’re just props here?”
Oliver places his hand on my shoulder. “No, no, Kendall. Do what you need to do during the investigation. I just want the camera crew to focus on Christian and what he’s seeing, feeling, and experiencing.”
Once peek over at him and I know what he’s feeling. He’s gazing into a small mirror that Jayne’s holding, checking his face and hair and dabbing a bit of pancake makeup on his cheeks.
“He’s putting on makeup?” I say incredulously.
Celia plops down on the couch next to me. “What’s going on here?”
“The Christian Campbell show, it looks like.”
“So, Mr. Bates?” Taylor asks. “What are we supposed to do?”
“Be natural, Taylor. Just do what you always do on an investigation.”
She looks over at me and shrugs. I lift my hands in defeat. It’s clear that we ghost huntresses aren’t needed here.
“Where shall I be?” Mrs. Flanders asks.
“I think it would be perfect if everyone gathers around the table,” Christian directs. “Mrs. Flanders to my right. Jayne to my left. And the rest of you…” He trails off and syncs his eyes with mine. A slight sneer lifts the corner of his mouth. “Well, the rest of you can just fill in the spaces and not fanny about.”
Celia sucks in. “Fanny about? What does that even mean?” She glares and then lowers her voice. “I don’t think I like this jerk.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say.
Patrick comes over and offers his hand to me. “Might as well join the dog and pony show,” he says with a laugh.
Everyone’s in place at the table, Taylor’s filming for our own purposes, but Niles and Jamie, the film crew, are set up and it’s literally…. “Action!”
Christian begins using the Ouija board with Mrs. Flanders and Jayne assisting in using the planchette. It begins sliding across the slick surface passing over letters and numbers, circling back, and bringing the pointer around in circles.
In the full spotlight, Christian closes his eyes and speaks out in a booming voice. “Who is here with us tonight? Show yourself to us. Use this divination tool to come forth.”
I knee Patrick under the table and he loops his fingers through mine.
This is complete crap, I say to him.
It’s all for show.
“Come forth and show yourself. Who are you? Who has been terrorizing this house, this woman, her daughter?” Christian chants in a monotone.
The camera crew moves in to show Christian’s hands on the planchette as it travels aggressively on the table.
D.
O.
J.
O.
“Dojo,” Christian repeats. “So, it is you.”
“Who is Dojo?” Jayne asks, peeping over her glasses.
Christian turns to her. “Never address a demon by name.”
She shakes her head, her blond ponytail swaying. “But you just—”
Christian tosses his head back. “I am familiar with this one. He is known to me.”
Oliver steps in near Christian. “Tell us what you’re experiencing, Christian.”
The young Scot closes his eyes again and lolls his head from left to right. Then he speaks again. “I have known you, Dojo, for years. You are the spirit that has haunted and terrorized me since I was a little boy.”
I reach out with my psychic senses to see what, if anything is present or near to us. My abilities aren’t picking up a thing. I don’t know if that’s because there’s nothing here and Christian’s just a big tool bag, or if this Dojo person is focused on his demonic task.
Christian’s eyes fly open and he screams out. He grabs the Ouija board and lifts it over his head, shaking it fiercely. Mrs. Flanders covers her head in protection and Jayne dives under the table. I watch as Christian falls back into the chair and starts flailing about.
“You can’t have me. You never have. I-I-I…” Christian slams the board to the table and then flops back into the chair, like he’s passed out.
I stifle the desire to laugh, as does Celia. Instead, we watch the floor show.
Then Christian rises, and in a voice that’s nothing like his thick Scottish brogue, he says, “I am Dojo. You have called me and I have come.”
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Flanders says on the verge of tears. “Are you the one who has been causing trouble here?”
“I am,” Christian says deeply. “I am Dojo. You summoned me. Now, what do you want?”
Oliver looks at our host. “He’s doing what we call channeling, Mrs. Flanders. He’s allowed this spirit to overtake him and speak through him so we can communicate.”
She blinks hard and looks around the table. “Oh, well, then.”
“I am Dojo. You have crossed me. You have empowered me. I shall never leave you. Just as I have ruled over this boy since his birth. His power comes from me. Dojo.”
No one in the room moves. Not even the sound guy trying to stretch the boom mike in. From what I’m picking up, my friends don’t know whether Christian is the real thing or if he’s just crazy out of his mind.
I think it may be a recipe that includes both ingredients.