Chapter Nine: A Different Kind of Boat Tour
It took every bit of Sue’s powers of persuasion over the phone to convince the owner of a local tour company to allow her to charter a boat for a night cruise on the river. The owner didn’t object to the tour taking place at night; it was the river that bothered him. He said again and again that he would prefer to provide a tour of any of the many beautiful lakes that the area afforded, for however long she wished, but he couldn’t have known that his efforts were futile.
In the end, he yielded, and, two days later, he met Ellen, Sue, Tanya, and Father Gonzales just before sunset at a boat dock about five miles southeast of Browning.
The Sinopah was a long white wooden barge with light blue trim. With enough bench seating for twenty people, it looked more like a trolley than a boat because of its flat roof and six windows along each side. As soon as Ellen stepped onto it from the dock, with the help of the priest, she could tell, by the way the boards groaned beneath her, that it was a very old vessel.
The owner of the barge was Captain Scott, a man in his early fifties with brown eyes and long blond and gray hair and a short beard to match. His skin was tan and wrinkled from overexposure to the sun. Even beneath his fur-lined jacket, Ellen could tell he had wide shoulders and muscular arms, which made her feel like she and her friends were in good hands.
Ellen found herself coveting the captain’s thick jacket and Father Gonzales’s puffer coat and kid gloves. She and her friends, having lived through decades of the Texas summer heat, couldn’t have known how terribly cold the wind blew on the rivers of Montana after dusk in July. Ellen shivered in her cable-knit cardigan, pulling it more tightly around her.
Because her ankle was still tender, she immediately found a seat on one of the middle benches. Tanya slid in beside her.
“Welcome aboard,” the captain said as Sue and Father Gonzales made their way to a bench across the aisle from Tanya. “Are there any particular views you want to see before nightfall?”
“Not really,” Sue said. “We aren’t here for the views.”
“Oh? Then why are we here?” Captain Scott asked.
“Um,” Ellen glanced over at Father Gonzales, who waited patiently for Ellen and her friends to explain. “We’re here to conduct a paranormal investigation.”
The captain’s bushy blond brows shot up. “Hmm. This is a first.”
Father Gonzales smiled. “This is a first for me, too. It ought to prove interesting.”
“So long as I get paid and you don’t break any laws, I don’t care what you do,” the captain said.
The sun dropped behind the distant mountains beyond the grassy plains, and the wind picked up and formed waves with white caps running across the surface of the river. Although the passengers were protected from the wind in the shelter of the boat with the windows closed, the chill managed to find its way inside. Ellen covered her mouth, exhaled hot air onto her hands, and then covered her ears to warm them, but her efforts did little to alleviate the cold as the captain set off.
“What do we do now?” the priest asked.
Sue pulled a cannister of salt from her bag. “We create a circle of protection.”
Since the boat rocked with the choppy water, Tanya, who had the best balance of the three friends, offered to pour the salt while Ellen and Sue lit the candles.
When Tanya approached the captain, where he stood at the helm, he said, “Not here, please.”
“It’s for your protection,” Tanya argued.
“I’d rather not have salt on my dash. Keep it on the floor, where I can sweep it out.”
“Then I can’t include you in the circle,” Tanya pointed out.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Tanya frowned but did as he said.
Sue put a handful of snacks on the bench between her and Father Gonzales.
“They attract the spirits,” she explained.
Father Gonzales seemed unable to hide his smile of skepticism. “Whatever you say.”
“I think you’ll have to hold the candles,” Tanya said when Sue attempted to place one on the floor near the circle of salt. “What if they fall over and catch the boat on fire?
“Good point,” Sue said. “Which way is north?”
“That way.” The captain pointed in Sue’s direction.
“Perfect,” Sue said. “I’ll hold the northern, and Tanya, you can hold the southern.”
Ellen took out her copper dousing rods. “I think we should start with these.”
“That makes sense,” Tanya agreed, returning to her seat.
“Are we anywhere near Holy Family Mission?” Sue asked the captain.
“I don’t rightly know. This isn’t my usual route.”
Father Gonzales gazed through the windows on the other side of Sue. “I believe we’re still a few miles away.”
“Well, there’s no harm in getting started, I suppose,” Ellen said. Then she took a deep breath, held the rods in each hand, parallel to one another, and said, “Oh, spirits of the other realm, or of this realm too, we come in peace. We’re here to help. If anyone is there, please look for the light of our candles. Smell the aroma of our snacks. Use the energy from the elements or from our cell phones to cross these rods, as a sign of your willingness to communicate with us.”
She stared at the rods, which trembled because she was trembling and because the boat was rocking. She began to doubt that the rods would work under such conditions. It was too hard to hold them still.
“I wonder if the pendulum might work better,” Sue suggested.
Ellen stuffed the rods back into her bag and pulled out the pendulum. Although it was impossible to hold the pendant still, there was the possibility that a spirit could manipulate the movement to communicate with them.
Ellen repeated her plea to the spirits, asking that they move the pendulum right to left if they were willing to speak with her.
The pendulum moved in a circle. Ellen held out her arm, hoping the movement would shift, but it remained consistent. The spirits weren’t answering.
After a while, Father Gonzalez said, “Perhaps the captain should slow down. We’re nearing the southern boundary of Holy Family Mission.”
The captain glanced at Sue, who nodded. He slowed the boat from what had felt like thirty miles an hour to half that speed. At the slower speed, the rocking of the boat became more dramatic, and Ellen found herself having to hold on to the side of the bench to avoid bumping into Tanya.
“The old dormitories use to be near that bank, just to the north of us,” Father Gonzales said.
“Could you take the boat a little closer to the bank?” Sue asked the captain.
“Aye, aye, matey,” Captain Scott said.
Ellen reached out to the spirits again, this time calling Alma Marcello by name. Again, the pendulum did not change direction. It continued to swing in a circular motion.
“Don’t get discouraged,” Sue said. “Do you want me to take over?”
“No, that’s okay.”
The sun made its complete descent, and the only light to see by came from an electric lantern hanging on a hook above the captain’s head and their two candles. The river itself became dark with only a sliver of a moon in a cloudy, starless sky. Lights on the exterior of the boat helped them to see a few yards in each direction. The horizon had all but disappeared.
Ellen repeated her appeal to Alma Marcello. She was beginning to believe the trip had been a waste of time and money when, to her surprise, the pendulum swung sharply to the right and left.
“Wait. I might have flinched or something,” Ellen said, wanting to be sure. “Let’s try that again.” She steadied the pendant and said, “Alma Marcello, the Ursuline nun from New Orleans, if you’re there, please know we come in peace. We only want to help you. If you’re there and willing to speak with us, please make the pendulum swing to my right and left.”
The pendulum swung with such force that Ellen had to tighten her grip on the string.
She looked up at her friends with excitement.
“How can you be sure that Alma is causing that to happen and not a nasty demon?” Father Gonzales asked.
“Usually we ask questions that only the spirit we’re trying to contact would know the answers to,” Sue explained.
“And how does the spirit answer such questions?” the priest asked.
Sue pulled the Ouija Board and planchette from her bag. “With this.”
Father Gonzales shook his head. “No, no, no. Not that. Everyone knows that you’re only inviting demon possession by using such a thing.”
“We’re protected by our circle,” Ellen explained.
Tanya glanced back at the captain. “At least, most of us are.”
“You should have told me about this before I agreed to come,” the priest said.
“You should have asked more questions about our methods,” Sue argued. “You’re the one who wanted to come. We didn’t twist your arm.”
Ellen gave him a sympathetic look. “I understand your concerns, but it’s the only way we know how to get specific answers.”
The priest shrugged and lifted his hands in resignation. “This is your show. I’m just along for the ride.”
“Good,” Sue said. “Would you hold this please?” She handed him the candle, and he took it.
Ellen turned to the captain, “Could you stop here?”
“Do you want me to anchor her down?” the captain asked. “I don’t recommend it.”
“I don’t think so,” Ellen said.
The captain did as she asked, allowing the boat to idle and drift in the rough water along the northern shore. Then Sue traded places with Tanya and put the board on the bench beside Ellen. Turning toward one another in their seats, Sue and Ellen gently placed their fingertips on the planchette.
“Alma Marcello,” Sue said. “Please use this board to communicate with us.” Sue moved the planchette across the board as she explained about the letters, numbers, and the yes and no positions. “To start, please tell us the year of your birth.”
Ellen’s fingers nearly slipped from the plastic indicator as it quickly moved to 1-8-9-1.
“Are you doing that?” Father Gonzales asked Sue.
“No,” she said. “I’d swear on a Bible, if you had one.”
The priest looked suspiciously at Ellen.
“I’d swear on one, too,” she said.
The captain scoffed. “Yeah. Right.”
“Ask another question,” the priest urged them.
“Thank you, Alma,” Sue said. “To make sure we have the right Alma, could you tell us the name of your baby’s father?”
The electric lantern over the captain’s head flickered as the plastic indicator spelled R-A-B-B-I-T.
The priest shook his head. “Maybe you aren’t aware that you’re moving it.”
Ellen shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Thank you, Alma,” Sue said. “Rabbit is missing. Do you know where his body is?”
The planchette flew across the board to YES.
The electric lantern flickered again before going out.
“Hells bells,” the captain muttered. “Just what we need with the wind picking up.”
He took the lantern from its hook and gave it a whack, but the light did not come back on. He reached into a compartment near the helm and took out a flashlight.
Sue said, “Thank you, Alma. That’s good news. Is Rabbit’s body in this river?”
The boat rocked sharply to the right, causing everyone to sway to one side in their seats. Once they regained their balance, Ellen and Sue returned their fingertips to the planchette indicator.
Sue said, “Alma Marcello, is Rabbit in this river?”
The planchette circled around the board and returned to YES.
Sue and Ellen beamed at one another.
“Will you lead us to him, Alma?” Ellen asked.
The planchette circled around the board and returned to YES.
“How will she do that?” Father Gonzales asked.
“We’ll try the dousing rods again,” Ellen said.
The boat rocked hard to one side again. Ellen held onto her seat until the boat steadied and she could reach into her bag for the rods. Then, as before, she held them in front of her, parallel to one another. With the rocking of the boat, they swung side to side, but she hoped they might still prove useful.
“Alma Marcello,” she began. “As we move closer to the location of Rabbit’s body, please bring the rod tips together. As we move further away from it, please move the rod tips apart.”
The boat engine quit idling. Ellen glanced over at the captain, who shifted the gear and turned the key. The engine turned but wouldn’t start. He tried again, twisting the key this way and that. He changed the gear, twisted the key. Then he pounded his fist on the dash.
“The battery must be dead,” the captain said angrily. “I swear it’s a new battery. It must have been bad to begin with.”
Ellen glanced nervously at her friends just as the dousing rods yanked on her arms. They didn’t cross together or push apart; instead, they pulled her toward the side of the boat, toward the northern shore.
With her eyes wide and full of excitement, Ellen climbed to her feet. Sue moved into the aisle and out of the way as Ellen limped toward the door leading to the outer deck. Father Gonzales jumped up, handed off his candle, and followed her. When he opened the door, the wind howled against them. The pull on the roads was so strong that Ellen nearly lost her balance.
The priest helped her to the side of the boat, where the dousing rods tugged her upper body over the rail, toward the river. Ellen’s stomach pressed hard against the rail as her arms stretched down toward the raging river.
“Help!” Ellen cried. “They’re pulling me in!”
Father Gonzales grabbed her waist with both hands and held onto her as he shouted, “Stop the boat!”
“There’s no way to stop her,” the captain shouted. “And we’ll be ripped to shreds if I lower the anchor now!”
The boat dipped sharply forward, plunging Ellen’s arms underwater.
“Let go of the rods!” the priest shouted against the wind.
“But this may be our only way to find Rabbit!” she shouted back.
Just then, the other side of the boat lifted high in the air and tossed Ellen and the priest overboard.
Ellen clung to the dousing rods as she fell through the dark, freezing water. She’d been afraid to let go, lest she lose her only chance of finding Rabbit; but now, feeling frozen to her core and desperately out of breath, she let them go and kicked and flailed toward the surface. Her tender ankle throbbed with pain. For a moment she felt transported, as if she had become trapped inside Weeping Wall.
When she finally reached air, she sucked in water by mistake and coughed as she struggled to stay above the waves. The boat could barely be seen in the distance. Without a battery, it wouldn’t be coming for her anytime soon.
She looked around for Father Gonzales.
“Over here!” he cried.
Beneath the dim light of the sliver of a moon, she saw him standing in waist-deep water about twenty yards away, waving his arms over his head. But he was west of her, and the river was carrying her in the opposite direction. She struggled against the current toward the grassy bank in the distance until her feet could finally reach the river floor. Then, trying her best not to overextend her sprained ankle, she limped toward land as the cold wind hurled her cardigan like a loose, flapping sail, behind her.