Cassidy put his bottle down on the table, not seeing that one half was on the edge of the Ouija board. Its instability could potentially have been attributed to whichever spirit had connected to the board. It would also have reflected the unsteadiness of Cass having seen what his siblings had planned.

"Forget it," he said, angrily.

"What?" asked Jazz. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Do you guys think all this with Amy is just a joke? I thought you took it seriously."

"We do!" said Ethan. "That's why we're doing this."

"These things are just toys. They only work in movies."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Jazz picked up the teardrop planchette. "But you'd say the same about ghosts before you moved in."

"Yeah," added Ethan. "Now it's all been proved. Ghosts are real. Don't you want to find out some more?"

She's not a ghost...!

Cass didn't state the error of their phraseology. He didn't know the reason Amy could deny being a ghost when she was dead. Wasn't that the definition? Let them use whatever words they liked. It was still a stupid idea. If Ouija boards really did what they were supposed to, they'd be essential purchases after the death of a relative or loved one. Everyone would have one. It would be like a phone to the Afterlife, except without the endless social media distractions or selfies. And, instead of hunting for the best deal on messages, minutes and all you can eat data, the only contract you had to sign was with the Devil.

"Some more what?"

"Some more... I don't know. Anything. Something."

"This isn't a game, Ethan."

Woah. Cassidy had used his brother's given name. He was serious!

"I know. We both do. We're not treating it like one. You opened our eyes. Your own too, I'd guess. It means there's more out there." Ethan gestured towards the board. "This gives us the chance to have a look at what it is."

"What if you summon a demon?"

"We'll be careful," Jazz said. "We promise. Right Fishy?"

Ethan nodded emphatically.

"Besides, we've got you here now."

"Me?" Cassidy laughed, his eyes wide. "What the fuck do you think I know? Just cos I've got her haunting my bedroom?"

"No," said Jazz. "Well, I suppose maybe. A bit."

"All I know is, her name is Amy, she's dead but not a ghost, and she gets tired."

"Tired?"

"Yes. Tired. If she talks for too long, she has to go away for a bit."

"Go away where?"

"How the fuck do I know? Kansas? Oz? Wonderland? Purgatory?"

Ethan stepped forward and picked up the bottle Cass had put down. He handed it back to his brother.

"Chill, bro. OK? We know you won't know much. Of course you won't. That's why we want to try this."

Cassidy couldn't help but be tempted. Curious. Afraid, too. He'd never used a Ouija board before. One of his school friends had found one while hunting for the hiding place of his Christmas presents. A group of them had gathered to try it out, but Cassidy had refused. He had to be home, he said. His mum needed him. The dog had eaten his homework. His friends had laughed at him, but then two others pulled out. He didn't know if the others had gone through with their experiment, as it was never mentioned again. Nothing bad could have happened, however. Everyone was fine. Still themselves.

Not possessed.

He hadn't been afraid, of course. Why fear something you didn't believe in? It was pointless. It was just.. just in case. That was all. Just in case.

Now he was an adult, he wondered if his opinion might have changed. He was more rational now. More sensible. If Amy hadn't shown up, he would have just laughed at his siblings all the way home.

Amy had shown up. She was there. Ouija boards were, hence, possibly more genuine.

If they were, then the risk of demonic contact was surely more possible too, wasn't it? Did Amy's existence prove Heaven, Hell and all their inhabitants were also real? No, it didn't. Think about it, man! One thing didn't automatically mean the other. She could be the only sprit still trapped in this realm. The rest of the teeming dead could all be happily settled wherever ghosts went. If they did. If they didn't simply cease to be anything more than a memory of those who still lived.

Fuck it.

"OK," he said.

"Really?" Jazz clapped her hands and Ethan grinned.

"Finish that off and I'll get you a fresh cold one," he said.

"If you want the spirits to flow, you'd best let the spirits flow. Get me a Jack and Coke. A large one."

"You got it, mister," his sister said.

She walked over to a high cupboard in the kitchen and took out a bottle of Jack Daniels and something that looked like gin. Cass wasn't a gin drinker, and the plethora of flavours available now had yet to change his mind. Jazz, on the other hand, would drink most things, and usually had most things in stock. She poured him a generous measure and filled it with a cheaper version of the Coca Cola he'd requested. Once he'd had a few glasses, he wouldn't notice the difference.

The siblings sat at the table and each took a large gulp of their respective drinks. None would admit there was some Dutch courage mixed in with the liquid.

"So, how do we do this?" Ethan asked.

Cassidy saw all eyes were on him and shook his head.

"Stop thinking I know what the fuck we're meant to do. I don't."

"Sorry," Ethan said. "I don't mean to."

"Then don't, OK?"

"OK."

There was a long pause where no one spoke. They all looked awkwardly between themselves and at the board. Cass waited to see if either of the others would step up and make a suggestion, but neither did.

Fuck it, again.

"I guess I'll start then!"

"So, you do...?" Ethan began.

"No. I don't. Like I said, I'm not an expert just cos I live with a dead person. This isn't the Sixth Sense."

"OK, I get it. Ease up, OK?"

"You guys dragged me here cos you think I'm suddenly Oda Mae Wotsit. I'm not."

"Yeah, we get it. It won't happen again!"

"Good," Cass said. "Right. We've all watched the same films. We stick our fingers on the puck thing. Lightly. Then we ask questions."

"Is that all?"

"Well, we could burn incense and wait until midnight on Halloween, if you wanted to."

"Would that help?" Jazz asked.

"How the fuck do I know? I don't suppose the time matters at all. Ghosts aren't dead only at night."

He rested his right index finger on the planchette and waited for two more to join it. Hesitantly, they did. His indignation wasn't entirely genuine. It was just part of the act they all played with each other, lathering comments or actions in a heavy dose of sarcasm. The séance was intriguing, too. Could they speak to other spirits?

It was like life on Earth. There were so many other galaxies and planets and, potentially, universes. We couldn't be the only floating rock containing life, right? Similarly, there were a vast number of deceased. Surely, Amy wasn't the only one to hang around, was she?

"How do we start?" he asked.

"Is there anyone there?" Jazz asked, looking up towards the ceiling.

Ethan sniggered. He felt excited, but also rather foolish. He'd agree to his sister's suggestion of bringing Cassidy round to do this, but nothing was going to happen. How could it? What would a rectangular piece of wood have that a ghost could possibly want? What made it the conduit through which they spoke?

Well, they were probably unable to hold a pen and paper. And, thinking of that, did that mean (if it did work) the movement of the planchette was created from the dead person possessing each of them and forcing them to move it? Otherwise, why would they need to touch it?

"Shush!" Jazz hissed, kicking his shin under the table.

"Ow!"

"Fishy, come on. Don't piss about."

"I'm not. It was just funny."

"Well, you try it, then!" Jazz said.

"Fine, I will."

He lifted his finger, blew on the tip with a smirk and replaced it. He took a breath.

"Is there anyone there?"

Cass shook his head but didn't say anything. Sometimes they just couldn't help themselves. They'd laugh at a funeral if some random thought tickled them.

They waited for a response. None came, which was to be expected, really. They were using a toy to communicate with something that shouldn't exist. Amy might be a fluke. A one off, never to be repeated.

Give it a chance. Just wait...

"Let's get some atmosphere going," Ethan said, standing.

"What do you mean? You saying my house has no atmosphere?"

"For what we're doing, the moon has more, sis."

He went over to the French doors and drew their blinds to obscure them. The same was done to the kitchen windows, causing a near twilight to fall across the room. Once he was seated again, his finger was placed back on the planchette.

"Got any candles?" he asked.

"No," said Jazz. "And I wouldn't say yes if I did. Stop stalling."

Ethan's face showed mock offence, but he nodded. He closed his eyes.

"OK," he said quietly. "Let's go."

Another breath, deep and from everyone.

"Is there anyone there? Can anyone here me?"

The air seemed to grow still, as if it had suddenly forgotten where it was meant to be going and was waiting for someone to offer a hint. The siblings looked around the room, then at each other. They all felt it. Was it another presence or their imagination? Was it the precursor to a visitation?

"Hello?"

"Are we...?"

Cassidy was going to ask if they were doing it correctly. The stern look from his sister stopped him. Be quiet, it told him. He shut his mouth. Jazz gave him a tight lipped smile, an apology that wasn't quite full and wanted to be more sincere, but couldn't quite make it. He returned the smile, equally as tightly lipped. Apology, for what it was, accepted.

The silence thickened, pushed by their anticipation to coat everything in a leaden layer that soaked up any sounds. A shuffled foot. A breath. The buzz of a fly, wandering unknowingly into the heart of supernatural surreality. All were muted.

Still, there was no reply.

"Is anyo..."

Ethan screamed as the planchette moved suddenly across the board to a word.

Yes

https://youtu.be/Myi1bABePlQ