Third Time's a Charm

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Heather went to the messenger bag on the couch and pulled out a candle lighter. She pressed the trigger a couple of times before a flame erupted from the tip. She drew the flame to the first candlewick and whispered, “Our intent is to talk to Sam Stone.”

  As if some mystical force answered her words, the remaining candles in the room lit before Heather could pull the lighter away from the first one. Not only was it the four on the table, but the decorative candles Vivien had placed around the room. She even saw a soft glow coming from the kitchen pass-through.

  The overhead lights flickered. Vivien expected that to happen, as it had happened each time they tried this.

  “I wonder what it is about stirring spirits that cause them to drain power from everything,” Lorna said, looking at the now dark overhead lights.

  “They need the energy to manifest themselves,” Heather said.

  “What do you think ghosts used before electricity?” Vivien wondered.

  “People?” Heather supposed. She laid the pieces of paper on the table so everyone could read the spell at the same time during the ceremony. “Powerful emotions?”

  “Maybe that’s why they had group séances. Groups of people in a heightened state might be enough to fuel an entity,” Lorna said.

  Vivien placed her hands on the card table and slid them toward her friends. If heightened emotion is all it took, then she had enough this evening to bring back Sam fifty times. “I’m ready.”

  Heather and Lorna shared a look. Lorna nodded. They all three joined hands, forming a circle around the book. The curtains fluttered, and the blinds made a rattling noise the moment they made contact. Vivien felt the energy flooding through her body. Hair lifted from her shoulders, tingling as the current flowed through her. She saw the same effect on Heather and Lorna. Heather gave her an encouraging smile. Lorna’s lips were pressed tightly together.

  Vivien felt Lorna’s apprehension, but also her determination. Lorna had become accustomed to putting her own wishes and feelings aside for others. She’d done it her entire adult life—as a wife to Glenn and as a mother of three. She was probably the most giving person Vivien had ever met.

  From Heather, Vivien detected the same hard knot of pain that was always there since the death of her son. It lingered in the background of everything Heather did. It had become a permanent fixture, and Vivien wasn’t sure there would ever be a way to get rid of it.

  In truth, Heather wouldn’t want the pain to go away. That pain was her child. There was nothing that could compare to such a loss.

  Vivien glanced down at the piece of paper. She felt her quickening heartbeat in her throat and chest. The word judge caught her attention. “I don’t want to judge Sam.”

  “It’s the séance from the book that fits the closest, and it worked with Glenn. I thought maybe it was best we didn’t stray too far from Julia’s wording,” Heather said. “And it’s not like we’re going to judge him harshly or anything. I don’t think that matters.”

  Vivien nodded. “All right.”

  She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or excitement that caused her to tremble. A sudden rush of questions flooded her. What would he think of her now? Would he think she was old? She didn’t feel old in her forties, but what would she have thought about this age when she was twenty?

  Would he remember their love?

  Would he remember her?

  She had no clue what the afterlife held. It might have felt like centuries to him.

  What if he were haunting some other woman?

  What if—?

  “Vivien, stop,” Heather said, squeezing her hand tight. “Take a breath. It’s all right.”

  Vivien blinked. She was breathing hard, and her heart pounded.

  “We can stop whenever you want,” Lorna said. “But it helped me to see Glenn. It helped to say goodbye to him. Let us help you do the same.”

  Vivien didn’t want to say goodbye to Sam. She wanted him back. If magic was real, then why couldn’t magic give her back the love of her life?

  Before the other two could sense her secret wish and decide to stop, Vivien looked down at the paper and began to read aloud, “We open the door—”

  Lorna and Heather instantly joined her.

  “—between two worlds to call forth the spirit of Sam Stone. Come back from the grave so that we may hear. Come back from the grave and show yourself to us so that all may see. Come back from the grave and answer for what you have done so that you may be judged.”

  Small pinpoints of light moved over the book. This was how it had started when they’d summoned Glenn. First the light would grow, then his feet would appear standing on the book. His ghost body had absorbed the light from the candles, and it became trapped inside his translucent form to illuminate his shape. She watched, waiting, her breath coming in ragged, audible pants. The lights grew brighter.

  First the light. Then the feet.

  Come on, Sam.

  The lights dimmed and faded like cooling ash. Sam wasn’t there.

  “No,” Vivien gasped, jumping up a little in her seat as she willed the lights to come back.

  The room darkened, and only the candles flickered.

  “We open the door between two worlds,” Vivien said, the words rushed, “to call forth the spirit of Sam Stone.”

  The flames sputtered and then burned low. She felt energy surging through her, flowing like a circuit from Lorna and into Heather. Why wasn’t he appearing?

  “We call forth…” Vivien tightened her hold on her friends’ hands. “Sam? Are you there? Can you hear me? Sam, come back to me.”

  “We open,” Lorna began, her voice sturdy. Heather instantly joined her, “the door between,” which prompted Vivien to do the same, “two worlds to call forth the spirit of Sam Stone. Come back from the grave so that we may hear. Come back from the grave and show yourself to us so that all may see. Come back from the grave and answer for what you have done so that you may be judged.”

  The lights acted like they were trying to shine but kept fading.

  “Come on, Sam,” Heather whispered.

  Lorna repeated the words, “We open the door between two worlds to call forth the spirit of Sam Stone. Come back from the grave so that we may hear. Come back…”

  As her friend chanted, Vivien rocked back and forth in her chair. She couldn’t hear Lorna’s words so much as the tone of her voice. Vivien willed Sam to appear with every ounce of her being. The light formed a shape, only to fade, and then build, and then fade, build, fade.

  Why?

  “He’s trying,” Heather said, not sounding convinced. “Come on, Sam.”

  “…come back from the grave and show yourself…” Lorna continued to chant.

  “Come back to me, Sam,” Vivien ordered. “Come back to me, baby. Come back.”

  “…back from the grave and answer…” Lorna continued.

  “Sam, come back to—” Vivien gasped.

  The flames from the blue candles burst, as if catching invisible threads on fire. The four streams of light twisted around each other as they filled in the shape of muscular legs. The light continued to build, growing as legs turned into hips in shorts.

  “…to call forth the spirit of Sam Stone…” Lorna’s voice faded into the background.

  “Sam?” Vivien watched the light, focusing intently on what it revealed. She tilted her head back.

  The firelight diffused into the see-through figure. It transformed the color of his skin and clothing and shifted the shadows of a firm stomach and chest. In all honesty, twenty years had done a lot to fade the exact memory of Sam’s body. She had pictures that served as a reminder, but it wasn’t until the light revealed his beautiful face that she knew for sure it was him.

  Her Sam.

  “Sam,” she whispered, feeling tears of joy threatening her eyes. “Sam, that’s it. Come back to me.”

  His dark brown eyes met hers as he looked down at her. She held tight to her friends, afraid if she let go,
he’d disappear even though she knew it wasn’t like the old movies they’d seen. Once a spirit appeared, they didn’t need to keep holding hands for the séance to continue.

  That face.

  That mouth.

  Those eyes.

  Vivien panted for breath, unable to form the words she wanted to say. He was here. Finally. It was real.

  Her lips parted. She gazed up at him, wishing his face was solid so she could reach for him, touch him, feel him.

  His hand lifted, the fingers extending as if he would touch her.

  “Hi,” she managed to whisper. “You’re here—”

  Suddenly, Sam’s jaw distended. His mouth distorted in a wide scream. The sound blasted her like a gust of wind. Her hair blew back from her face. She imagined she smelled him—the familiar hint of fresh ocean air. She heard items crashing around her living room. The force of the wind became painful, stinging her skin like it pelted her with sand.

  Sam’s body burst, and he released the flames.

  Heat rolled over Vivien’s face and chest. The sound of his scream died as his light faded. The blue candles remained burning as if nothing had happened.

  “Sam?” Vivien’s voice caught on a sob. Her skin stung.

  “What did we do?” Lorna whispered. “What was that?”

  Heather’s hand slipped from Vivien’s, and she flipped over the paper with the séance chant. Almost panicked, she read, “Spirit you have been found pure. We release you into the light. Go in peace and love.”

  The blessing was supposed to end the séance, but Vivien felt Lorna’s fear through their connected fingers that it had come too late. When Glenn was sent to his afterlife, he’d gone like dying embers. Sam had exploded in heat and pain. The feel of it stuck to her skin, prickling her nerve endings.

  “What did we do?” Lorna asked again. “What was that? I don’t think that was supposed to happen. Did you feel—?”

  “Shh,” Heather shushed the woman as she came around the table to grab Vivien by the face. “Viv? Look at me. Are you all right? I need you to take a deep breath for me. Focus on my eyes. That’s it. Focus on me.”

  Vivien tried to speak, but her chest squeezed and the pressure made it difficult.

  A loud bang sounded on the door seconds before it crashed open. “Vivien?”

  The sound of Troy’s voice barely registered. Lorna’s hand pulled out of her grasp. Heather’s hands remained on her face, forcing Vivien to look at her.

  “Are you all right? What happened? Is there someone in the house?” Troy’s questions flooded the room. “I heard a woman screaming.”

  “We were playing around, and we startled Vivien,” Heather said, her eyes staying on Vivien’s.

  Vivien touched her lips. Had she screamed?

  “So, you’re…” Troy appeared in her peripheral. “She doesn’t look all right. Maybe I should call an ambulance.”

  “Hey, Troy, right?” Lorna said, her tone calm. “Hi. I’m Lorna. I just moved in a few weeks ago. We haven’t met yet. You know Viv, and this is Heather. An ambulance won’t be necessary. You can put your phone away.”

  “Viv?” Heather’s light brown eyes came more into focus as she drew an exaggerated breath trying to prompt Vivien to breathe. “That’s right. Just like that.”

  “What happened in here?” Troy insisted.

  Vivien finally managed a deep breath. She blinked, shaking the feeling of fear from her body. She pulled Heather’s hands from her face.

  “What?” Vivien forced herself to stand and turn around to look at him. “Don’t like my decorating?”

  “Uh?” Troy glanced at the floor.

  The words had left her before she actually saw her living room. The gust of air had not only stunned her, but it had trashed her home. The vases had crashed into broken pieces. The Renaissance paintings of women had fallen off the walls. The uneaten Mexican food was on the floor.

  “I’m sorry if we were too loud.” Vivien smiled even though she felt weak. “You know how wild girls’ night can get.”

  “Margaritas, whew,” Heather added. “Straight to our heads.”

  “Yeah, sorry for the noise,” Lorna said, not as convincing as the other two. “We’ll try to keep it down.”

  “Uh, okay,” Troy mumbled in disbelief. “I’m glad everything is…” He looked around. “Sorry for barging in like that.”

  “Hey, thanks for being concerned,” Heather said, lifting her hand to usher him toward the front door as she stepped around the mess of food on the floor. “And it was very nice to meet you, Troy.”

  Vivien waited for the door to close before turning to stare at the book. She gave a weak laugh. “I guess Sam didn’t like my decorating choices.”

  “Don’t joke,” Lorna said. “This is serious.”

  “Viv, are you all right?” Heather asked.

  “Where did he go?” Vivien pointed toward the book as if doing so would make sense out of what happened. “Why were there flames this time? Do you think that means he’s in hell?”

  “Sam? No,” Heather instantly denied. “He can’t be in hell. That’s not a place for a man like him.”

  “But I felt…” Vivien rubbed her arms through the sweater jacket. Her body ached. “I felt him pass through me. It hurt.”

  “Is that why you were screaming?” Lorna asked.

  “Sam screamed. Not me,” Vivien denied.

  “No, sweetie, that was you,” Heather stated.

  Vivien shook her head in confusion. She’d seen him scream, saw the horror of his distended jaw.

  “You’re shaking like a leaf, Viv,” Heather said. “Are you cold?”

  “I don’t think so,” Vivien answered.

  “I think you should lie down,” Lorna insisted. “Heather, why don’t you help her to her room? I’ll clean up this mess.”

  Heather nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s an excellent idea. Come on, hon. Let’s get you into bed.”

  Vivien allowed Heather to lead her down the hall to her bedroom. She was grateful for the guidance.

  “I don’t think Troy will be asking me out again anytime soon,” Vivien tried to joke, but her words did not have the teasing quality she’d hoped for.

  “I think it was nice he tried to rescue you,” Heather said. “Even though if I ever met a woman who didn’t need to be rescued by a man, it’s you.”

  They made it to her bedroom. Heather rushed a few feet ahead of her and pulled back the covers.

  “Get in,” Heather ordered.

  Vivien obeyed, too shaken to protest. She lay on her side, drawing her legs toward her chest. Heather pulled the covers over her and pushed them around her body to tuck her in.

  “That was Sam,” Vivien said as Heather smoothed back her hair. “I smelled him. Did you smell him?”

  “No, I saw him pass through you, though. Maybe that was his way of saying goodbye.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Spirits can’t always communicate the way we expect them to.”

  “Do you think he was still confused because of how he died? With all that morphine in his system? He had a hard time talking at the end.”

  “I don’t know.” Heather moved around to the other side of the bed to lie next to her.

  “I thought spirits were supposed to be cold. Sam was hot,” Vivien insisted, rolling over to look at her friend. Heather had stayed on top of the covers.

  “I honestly don’t know what happened, but I promise you, we will figure it out. I have to believe we were brought together and given these abilities for a reason. Grandma Julia would not have sent us down this path if it were the wrong one.” Heather smoothed back Vivien’s hair and rested her hand on the side of her head. “Whatever it takes, I promise, you’ll get your chance to tell him goodbye.”

  Vivien felt a hot tear slide along the side of her nose. “I miss him so much.”

  “I know, hon. I know.” Heather brushed the tear away.

  “Don’t leave me. Stay here tonight. I don’t want to be alone,” Vivie
n whispered, closing her eyes. “I’m suddenly extremely tired.”

  Heather withdrew her hand. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll be right here.”

  Chapter Five

  Vivien awoke from a deep sleep to the buzzing motion alarm on her cell phone. By the lack of light in her bedroom window, she could deduce that it was in the middle of the night. She automatically reached for her phone to dismiss the notification since it was most likely William sneaking in to see Lorna. Again. If these late-night visits kept up, she’d end up disabling the damned thing.

  Vivien chuckled softly. It was rather sweet. William and Lorna were like two teenagers in love. If he wanted to sneak in her window, so be it. Metaphorically speaking, of course. She didn’t actually want him climbing through the windows.

  The sound of soft breathing caused her to lift her phone higher in confusion. She used the light from the screen to see who was next to her. Heather’s arm sprawled over her head, and she mumbled as the light hit her face. She still wore her jeans and flannel, but she’d kicked off her shoes. Vivien instantly lowered the light to let her friend sleep.

  This wasn’t the first time Heather had crashed at her house, but seeing her reminded Vivien of the evening before. They’d tried to contact Sam. The encounter had left her weak, and she barely remembered Heather walking her to the bed.

  Vivien looked at her phone. She didn’t recall putting it on the charger, but then automatically sensed that Lorna, in her thoughtfulness, had done it for her. She turned the phone in her hand. She usually didn’t pick up intense psychic impressions from objects.

  Worse than the exhaustion were the feelings of fear and sadness that had settled into her chest. The emotions weighed on her heart and stomach, and each breath felt labored.

  The ghost had been Sam. She’d seen his face, however briefly. He’d looked like he had before cancer ate away at him. She’d smelled the ocean on him when he’d passed over her. He’d always loved being near the water. It was one of the reasons she’d never moved away from the ocean. She felt him in the waves.

  Vivien couldn’t help but think she’d fucked things up royally. Heather was right. There was no way a guy like Sam was in hell. So whatever pain he suffered had to be because they’d brought him back. Had they yanked him out of heaven? Was there even such a place?