Hannah handed me and Jason bottles of holy water. “We’re going in to get your clothes.”
Really? We were going to do battle with a ghost over my clothes? No way. “Can’t I just borrow something?”
“Oh, sure, I’ll lend you an old T-shirt,” Hannah scoffed. “It’s got hearts and flowers on it. And it’s pink.”
Jason snorted back a laugh and I scowled. I’d gotten enough grief the time I’d had to borrow Jason’s mom’s pink princess shirt when we were kids. Nope. I’d run around shirtless before borrowing one of Hannah’s or going back in that bathroom.
Hannah’s eyes sparkled with laughter.
“You don’t even have a pink T-shirt, do you?” I glared.
“Of course not . . . but seriously, Alex . . .” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin high. “You can’t let spirits bully you. They’ll feed off your fear. You have to stand up to them.”
“Strong words for someone who’s never been clawed at by a ghost.”
Aunt Elena stopped at the threshold to the hallway and turned back to us. “Alex. Hannah. Stop bickering. It will only give him more power. And Hannah’s right. Fear will only make him stronger. Now I need your help. All of you.” She nodded her head in the direction of the bathroom.
“Hang on a sec.” Jason went over to his bag by the front door. “Alex, where’s your backpack?”
“I left it in the bathroom, why?”
Jason’s shoulders slumped. “I was going to get your ghostball trap. This is the perfect chance to try it, then maybe we won’t have to simply scare away old Mr. Wilkes. Maybe we can catch him.”
If we’d used the correct sigils, then it might work. And if it did? “What will we do with him if we catch him?” I wasn’t ready to try to cross over some malevolent spirit.
“I’m not sure about testing out some homemade ghost trap. You boys need to let Frank look at it when he arrives. But this can’t wait.” Aunt Elena gestured to the bathroom. “We need to do this, now. I won’t have a malevolent spirit in my house.” With a look of determination that gave me a hint of comfort, I clutched my bottle of holy water tight.
“Hannah, bring the Bible. Alex and Jason, make sure your holy water is ready. We must say a prayer of cleansing. It won’t likely drive him away from Alex, but hopefully it will drive him from the house. Now follow me.” Elena stepped forward, smoldering sage in the lead, and began to pray. “Father in Heaven, please destroy every negative entity’s connection to this house and to this boy, Alex.”
The walls trembled, and pictures along the hallway began knocking together.
“Oh, mouse poop,” Jason mumbled under his breath. I was too scared to laugh. Ever since we were kids, Jason had used that as his swearword on account of the time his mother had caught him using a Jamaican swearword and washed his mouth out with soap. She wouldn’t complain about him saying mouse poop.
“Stop him from returning by putting a barrier of your divine power between him and all who dwell in this home,” Aunt Elena kept praying, eyes focused on the bathroom door.
Aunt Elena stepped into the bathroom, Hannah, Jason, and me crowding in behind her. The mirror shook. The glass in the small bathroom window shook. Even the water in the toilet shook.
“Render any negative energy or entities around this boy or on this land powerless,” Aunt Elena continued and lifted the sage over the smeared writing on the mirror and into each corner of the room.
A powerful screech, worse than an angry cat’s yowl, ripped through the air.
“Hannah, the Lord’s Prayer. Alex, Jason. The holy water. Now.”
Hannah flipped open the Bible and began reciting without glancing at its pages. “Our Father, who Art in Heaven . . .”
I uncapped the holy water and sprinkled it behind Aunt Elena and into every corner of the room. Jason flung his at the mirror. The moan escalated into a growling wail and the bathroom mirror shattered, spilling into the sink.
Jason screamed. I fought the urge to bolt.
“In the name of Jesus Christ, I bind every negative spirit that dwells within these walls or on this land and command them to flee immediately. I take back this house in Your name, and no evil or negative spirit can enter this space forevermore.”
As suddenly as the shaking started, it stopped. The wailing stopped, and the air cleared.
Aunt Elena gestured for me to get my clothes and backpack, which sat untouched on the floor. “Take them, Alex.”
Jason at my back, I recapped the holy water, grabbed my clothes and bag, and sprinted into the hall. We may have gotten Old Man Wilkes out of the bathroom, but there was no way I was going to stay in there for a second longer than I had to. I’d pee in the bushes tonight instead of going back in there.
The others followed me into the living room and set down their lanterns and supplies.
A knock at the door made us all jump.
“It’s Frank.” Aunt Elena sounded almost as if she hadn’t been so sure until he poked his head in the front door.
Frank took one look at me in my towel-backpack ensemble and said, “What happened?”
Everyone stared at me. I squirmed.
“Alex, get dressed. If Hannah’s mother comes out she’ll wonder what in Solomon’s name is happening in this house.” She turned to the rest of the group. “Frank, Hannah, Jason, you come with me into the kitchen. We’ll get something to eat while Alex’s dressing, and then we’re going to come up with a plan.”
Aunt Elena slid the kitchen door closed and I quickly pulled on my boxers, jeans, and T-shirt, then flopped down onto the sofa and wondered if I would sleep tonight.
“How you holding up?” Frank startled me. I hadn’t even heard him come out of the kitchen.
“Okay,” I said. I was still alive after being attacked by an evil ghost.
Frank sighed and sat beside me. “Alex, I know this is hard and you’ll need some testing, but I think you’re a Class A Psychic.”
What? Me? A Class A Psychic? “How is that possible?” My voice cracked.
Elbows on his knees, Frank leaned forward, his brows furrowed in thought, his gargoyle tattoo’s eyes bulging out at me. “Elena has told me what you’ve seen and heard. She’s excited about what you can do.”
“Yeah. I’m sure she is. If I really am as psychic as she thinks I am, then I’ll be great for business,” I said with a scowl.
Frank sighed. “She won’t push you. She’s your aunt. And believe it or not she really does want what’s best for you.” Frank looked at me closely. “You’re good with sigils. And I pick up certain energy from you that makes me think that’s the case.”
“Will you test me?” I blurted. I didn’t want to be tested, but if anyone had to do it, I’d rather it be Frank right here in my hometown. The last thing I wanted was to be shipped off to some institute.
He set his jaw. “I’m not in the training business anymore. I’m retired.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Frank said matter-of-factly.
I frowned. If I got out of this situation without anyone finding out about my new abilities, I’d be lucky.
“Elena and Jason showed me the ghostball trap you boys created. Ingenious. You chose some good sigils for drawing a spirit to the trap and for protecting yourself, but you will need to use an activation ward to make it work.” Frank pulled something out of his jacket pocket.
“Activation ward?”
He held a slim, tattered book in his hand entitled Ghost Hunting: A Psychic’s Manual. “I’ve used this for years. It’s still the best resource on ghost hunting I’ve found.”
He flipped the book open to a page covered in handwritten scrawl. “This is a ward of drawing and protection dating back to the time of King Solomon.”
I took the book and read:
By the light
On this day/night
I call to Thee
To give me Your might.
By the power of three
I call to Thee
Into the (name of your trap)
Lord protect all
That surround me
So may it be
So may it be.
“And this will help me draw the spirit into the ball?” I offered the book back to Frank.
He pushed it back into my hands. “You keep it. That simple ward is one of the best I’ve found to draw a spirit and garner protection. Memorize it. It may come in handy if you have to use your ghostball trap. After this one, flip to page twenty-three and memorize the ward-prayer for helping reluctant spirits cross over.”
I studied the ward.
“Well, say it to me,” Frank commanded.
“Um, okay.” I cleared my throat and read aloud. “By the light, on this . . .”
“If it’s day, you say day; if it’s night, you say night.” Frank scowled like I was an idiot.
“On this night,” I continued, “I call to Thee to give me Your might. By the power of three, I command Thee into this ghostball?”
Frank nodded. “You’d hold your trap toward the spirit.”
“Lord protect all that surround me. So may it be. So may it be.”
“Good. Now make sure you have that one and the prayer of crossing over memorized before we go into the Wilkes house tomorrow. I have a feeling you’ll need them.”
So the plan was, after a good night’s sleep, we’d talk to Mr. Barrett to get approval to tear open his basement wall, and then regroup at Aunt Elena’s office with Frank. Then we’d do the clearing.
“I still don’t understand why it has to be me asking for permission,” I groaned. I didn’t want to ask the grandson of a murderer if I could clear his house. Heck, I didn’t even know how to clear a house.
“Because you’re the psychic and you’re the one being attacked.” Hannah said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And Frank says you need the practice.”
“We’ll be with you.” Jason gave me one his reassuring, I’ve-got-your-back smiles.
“And the more involved you are with clearing the house, the more power we’ll have to help move Mr. Wilkes along.” Aunt Elena sounded confident. “And we can’t just break down the basement wall without permission.”
Jason and I spread out our sleeping bags on the sofas in the front room and Hannah tossed each of us a pillow.
“I sleep in there.” My aunt pointed to an open doorway, through which I saw antique-looking maroon wallpaper with sigils. I shivered. “My door will be open. If you need me.”
“What about me?” Hannah pushed her lips into a pout, a pillow and blanket in her arms.
“I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable in your bedroom.” There was no way Aunt Elena was going to let Hannah sack out with a couple of boys. And I was glad.
“But—”
“Just leave your door open. We’ll call if we need you.” Aunt Elena’s tone left no room for argument. “Now let’s all go to sleep. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Frank had already passed out in a front-room chair. Head tilted back, he was snoring softly.
Clothes still on, Jason snuggled into his sleeping bag, and I climbed into mine, drawing it up to my chin. It reminded me of all our summer camping trips with his dad—except, of course, we were inside a house, not in the woods, and we had to use extra wards to protect us from a murderous ghost.
“Night, J,” I said, suddenly very glad he was there. Very glad I hadn’t pushed away the best friend I’d ever had. “Thanks for being here for me . . . despite all the craziness.”
The only response was the faint whirring of Jason’s breath. Asleep. I grinned. Jason could sleep anywhere.
I rolled on my side so I had a view of my aunt’s room. I touched the pendant she’d given me and my finger stroked the cool, smooth glass of Mom’s amulet. A shiver shot through me. Why had Mom given me her amulet? Had she somehow known I’d become psychic in the accident? Maybe she knew I’d need the extra protection. She may have been an occult historian, but she believed in her wards and sigils and charms. Always. She knew the tricks spirits could get up to. She’d studied it anyway. My stomach did a flip-flop. I didn’t want to be a psychic. I wanted everything to go back to the way it was. Mom. Dad. Me. Home. I clenched my teeth and let the reality of my new life settle over me. Sort of like a nettle that gets stuck on the inside of your sock. It totally sucks.
Well, at least I was surrounded by friends and holy water and salt. Hopefully, the night would be peaceful. I was so tired that it wasn’t long before my eyes drooped closed and I had the first good night of sleep I’d had in weeks.