by Lewis Stanek
“The baron is here, Baron Frederick, is there something you wish to say?” Heinrich implored above the din of the pounding table.
“No shit Sherlock, he is telling us to get the hell out of his house!” Ozzie yelled backing away from the table pressing his back against the wall getting as far from the table as he could get while yet remaining in the parlor. Only Bridget and Heinrich remained in their chairs.
“Don't be frightened gentlemen, The baron means us no harm. In fact I think he is welcoming us into his home as guests.” Heinrich said attempting to sooth his young friends fears. Ozzie went to the door grabbed the doorknob and pulled, a gap between the door and frame appeared and let a little warmth seep into the room, but the doorknob slipped from his hand and the door slammed shut.
“Come back to you seat, Ozzie. He is not going to hurt you.” Ozzie reluctantly shuffled back to his chair keeping his eyes on the table as it continued rock back and forth tapping out no particular rhythm. He gingerly eased himself down on his chair as if he expected it to bite him in the ass.
“you too Randal, there is no point in standing there when you have a comfortable chair waiting for you.” Randal sat down and folded his hands in his lap.
“Now everyone, firmly place your hands on the table palms down and push, put your weight into it, hold it to the floor.” Heinrich instructed. “I think we have had enough for tonight, dear Baron, thank you for your warm welcome into your home.” He intoned softly, patiently waiting for the table to end its dance.
Slowly the warmth from the fire returned and the table settled down to a soft tap now and then. Randal's eyes remained wide open scanning the dimly lit room for any movement or shadow. Bridget sucked in a deep breath, held it for a moment then slowly let it out.
“I wonder why the planchette didn't work.” She asked.
“It is only a tool, sometimes it is the wrong tool, sometimes the spirits wish to communicate in another manner.” Heinrich replied.
“Next time, I think I'd prefer a telegram.” Ozzie snarked regaining his composure.
“Are we done then?” Randal asked.
“For now, I think.” Heinrich replied, pushing his chair from the table. “Would you care to join me in the library for some brandy?”
“If you think the baron will let us out of the room, I'd be glad to leave.” Ozzie replied getting up from his seat.
“Oh, I'm sure the door won't be a problem for you now. Why don't you give it a try?” Heinrich suggested. Ozzie didn't move.
“Oh gee, Ozzie, don't be a pansy.” Bridget said getting up from her seat and opening the door allowing them out of Theadora's parlor.
“I would have opened it.” Ozzie said to Bridget. “If you gave me a little time to get my mind around it first.” The little group made their way through the dusty hall to the library in silence. Heinrich was as good as his word, just as he had promised snifters and a decanter of brandy along with a small covered platter of cold cuts cheese and crackers waited for them.
“I suspected we might work up an appetite during our experiment so I prepared a little snack ahead of time.”
“Heinrich, What was that we experienced in Theadora's parlor?” Randal asked, “You certainly can't call that intelligent communication, can you?”
“Maybe not clear communication, but certainly we can call it contact.”
“Contact, okay, but contact with what?”
“With the baron, of course. Can't you see that, Randal?”
“Frankly, no I don't. I don't know what I saw. Whatever it was didn't seem all that glad to see us here either, not welcoming at all.”
“Now now Randal it wasn't all that bad, was it? A little unusual, a little uncomfortable for the uninitiated maybe, but no one was hurt. Just a little noisy table tapping that's all it was. I'm sure we may experience more than that before we are through here. That is if we are lucky.” Heinrich opined.
“Really, Randal, when I was little we had worse than this at our house. When my mother burned the Ouija board all hell broke lose.” Bridget shared.
“You've mentioned that before, but you never got very specific. What exactly happened to you when you were a kid?” Ozzie asked pouring himself some brandy.
“It was a poltergeist, it moved things, it threw things, broke things. It was mean to us, sometimes it hurt us. Tonight was nothing, but a little noise, a little table tapping, like Heinrich said.”
“It tried to lock us in! That seems a bit on the mean side if you ask me.” Ozzie replied, And what on earth was that thing that came out of the mirror? Was that the baron or was that one of the Nazis, or some kind of demon or something else?”
“Maybe it was baroness Theadora.” Heinrich replied.
“The baroness as a black wisp of shadow?” Randal asked.
“Yes, why not.”
That Night
Randal selected a snifter and poured himself generous helping of brandy, swirled it around in the snifter, inhaled the aroma, then took a sip. After the sip he had a gulp and then another to calm his nerves.
“I for one am not ashamed of saying I don't think I will get any sleep tonight.” Randal complained.
“I bet Heinrich would be willing to get you a night-light, if you want.” Ozzie replied with a wink to Bridget.
“I think it might be wise for none of us to be alone tonight.” Bridget replied.
“I will have no problem sleeping alone, thank you very much. I knew the baron and baroness and I am certain they mean no harm to any of us.”
“I'm with Heinrich, I think our rooms are close enough that if we need any help all we need do is yell and one of us will be there in a flash. Of course, if you are uncomfortable Bridget, I'd be willing to make room.”
“Thanks, but I'll pass on your offer Ozzie. I'll keep you company in your room for a while if you'd like, Randal.”
“I truly would appreciate the company.” Randal replied finishing the last of his brandy. Heinrich picked a book at random from the table, it was titled Thought Forms.
“The baron has a sizable library containing many books on the occult and esoteric subjects. He and the baroness had a keen interest in all things metaphysical. Take this book on thought forms, for example. A case could be made that what you saw come out of the mirror was nothing more than our concentrated thoughts given the form of a shadowy being.”
“Tonight you can keep your thought forms to yourself, Heinrich.” Randal replied. “I only want a little peace and quiet”
“Oh I was hoping we could play a little gin tonight. I have a deck of cards here somewhere, Ozzie offered.”
“You three do what you want, I intend to read myself to sleep tonight. I will see you at breakfast.” Heinrich said taking the book with him as he left the library.
“Shall we make it a threesome?” Bridget asked. Without waiting for an answer she left and was back a few minutes later with her deck of cards. Ozzie cleared the books from the table for a clean place to play their game stacking them neatly on the desk. He picked up a book glanced at the title, “A Treatise on Cosmic Fire, there is a little light reading for you.” he said tossing the book aside. Bridget arranged the chairs for the three of them around the table. Randal poured himself another brandy and plopped into a stuffed club chair near the windows.
“Randal, don't be a spoil sport, came on over and join us.” Bridget invited, taking a seat at the table. Randal pushed himself up from the chair using the armrests as a brace. He brought the brandy and his snifter with him to the table.
“Okay, I'm here, what are we going to play?” He asked taking a seat.
“Poker anyone?” Ozzie suggested.
“I don't have the money to spare, Ozzie. I can't gamble.”
“I thought all Americans were supposed to be filthy rich. You've shattered my illusions.”
“Now if only someone would do the same to your delusions.” Bridget interjected, while shuffling the deck.
“May I suggest we play gin rummy, I w
ould normally suggest hearts or spades, but we don't have an even number of players.”
“How about kings corners?” Randal asked.
“Sounds good to me, all right with you Mel?” Ozzie asked.
“Who is going to keep score, we'll need some paper and a pen. Ozzie walked to the desk in the corner of the room and started opening draws.
“There is sure to be something we can use in here. Viola, just what we need.” Ozzie grabbed a journal and a pencil from the desk and returned to the table. Bridget dealt out the cards, placed the remainder face down on the table and flipped the top card face up next to the stack. Ozzie flipped through the journal finding a blank page near the back and ripped it out and pushed the journal aside.
“Tell me the truth, Ozzie. You slammed the door shut in Theadora's parlor, didn't you? It was your idea of a joke, right?” Randal asked. “Then you pretended you couldn't open it again, didn't you?”
“Oh come on, Randal” Ozzie began, then paused looking closely at Randal then continued “if I knew the effect it would have, I wouldn't have done it. You're right it was simply a stupid joke.”
“Thanks, Ozzie. I needed to know.”
“Yeah, well lets forget about all that and play some cards.” Bridget said, “Your first, Randal” He looked at his cards for a moment then took one from the deck, slid it into his hand then discarded another. Ozzie, followed taking the card Randal discarded, then discarded another in its place. Bridget reached for the top card on the deck, but before she could take it the top book on the stack Ozzie had made flipped open.
“Must be the wind.” Ozzie commented.
“What wind, the windows are closed.” Randal replied.
“Old houses are known to be drafty.” Ozzie countered. Curious, Bridget got up and ambled to the desk. She picked up the book and read aloud. “ The Domovye or house spirit is masculine, he may take on the appearance of current or former owners of the house. Domovyes frequently sport a gray beard, horns and a tail, but may also appear as a blackish mist or vapor. There are tales of neighbors seeing the master of the house out in the yard while in fact the real master is asleep in bed. It is believed that saying the word “master” in front of a domovoye who shows itself is a sign of praise to the creature and the proper way to address it, even for the family head.”
“Cut it out Bridget!”
“It is trying to communicate with us Randal, now is not a time to show fear. That is exactly what it wants, it will feed off of strong emotion, your fear will only make it stronger.”
“And how do you know this?” Ozzie demanded.
“Experience.” Bridget replied with flat affect.
“Is that what came out of the mirror in the parlor, a domovoye?” Randal asked.
“Who knows, maybe. Maybe something else, maybe Theadora.”
“Come on guys, are we going to play cards or are we going to tell ghost stories?” Ozzie asked, trying to encourage them to come back to the game.
“Look at this.” Bridget exclaimed, “The baron has a book titled “Demonicon”, I think this royal couple was into some pretty evil shit.” Bridget thumbed through the pages, put it down, picked up another book, glanced at it then eyed the book shelves. “I think the baron and baroness were more than dabblers in the dark arts. I think Heinrich knows it too, knew it all along.”
“So what are you trying to say, Bridget?” Randal asked, forgetting about the game and getting up to look at the baron's collection of books.
“I'm saying we have got to take this seriously or we may find ourselves wishing we never heard of castle Reuversweerd.”
“Save me that brandy, Randal?” Ozzy said getting up from the table, “I need a drink.”
Ozzy took the decanter and poured the last of the brandy into his glass and gulped it down.
“This isn't going to be enough to see us through the night. I think I saw a liquor cabinet in the dining room. I going to do a little foraging.”
“I think we should stay together tonight.” Bridget warned.
“you can come with me if you want, if not I'll be back soon enough. If you're good I'll share what treasure I find. Besides, what have we seen to scare us, huh, just some shadows, a little wind, and a few creepy books. You two stay here, I'll be back in no time.” With that said, Ozzie left the library.
“Bridget, I don't want to pry ...”
“That usually means that is exactly what you want to do.” Bridget replied without looking up from the book she was holding.
“But what actually happened to you with that poltergeist you mentioned. Why do you know so much about this stuff?”
Bridget looked up from the book and eyed Randal, trying to read him and decide what or how much she could share.
“You probably won't believe me.” She began.
“Yesterday, you'd probably be right, but today after our little séance, I'm ready to believe just about anything.”
“I told you about my Ouija board, but I didn't tell you everything. The board was old when I found it. It had belonged to my grandmother, it had been handed down to her by her mother, who received it from her mother before her. It was a kind of a family tradition. My mother didn't want anything to do with it, but she wasn't willing to just throw it away either, she didn't want to break the family tradition so to speak. When I found it in the attic, I thought it was some sort of board game. I didn't know the rules, so I looked it up on the Internet. When I found out what it was I simply had to give it a try. I played with it by myself at first, but nothing happened so I just hid it beneath my bed. Later I invited my best friend Beth to have a sleepover. After my parents went to bed and I could hear my father's snores I dragged it out from under the bed and invited Beth to give it a try with me. We turned the lights off, lit a couple candles and placed them in front of my vanity mirror and sat on the floor cross legged with the Ouija board on the floor between us.”
“Sounds a little like playing Bloody Mary.”
“I suppose it does, kind of. Any way since this was my grandmother's Ouija board, I thought it only right to try and contact her first. We put our fingers on the planchette and I chanted Grammy, are you there, Grammy are you there, will you talk to us? I repeated that over and over with my eyes closed. When I felt the planchette begin to move I opened my eyes in time to see the planchette scurry across the board to where it read 'yes'. I was hooked from then on. I was sure this was my dead grandmother coming for a visit, answering my questions, giving me advice about whatever I would ask.”
“But, it was only a game, right?” Randal asked.
“Well, maybe at first, but the answers it gave me made me think it really was my grandmother visiting me. That she was coming back from the dead just to speak to me to look after me, to show me she stilled she loved me. At least that is what I wanted to believe. It wasn't long though before it started saying things that weren't all that nice and loving and when my mother burned the damn thing it became downright hateful. What I thought was my loving grandmother would attack me at night waking me up bruising me biting me on my legs leaving teethmarks, beating my feet until they would swell and turn purple sometimes so bad I could barely stand. My mother accused me of doing it to myself and had me see a shrink.“ Bridget's expression wordlessly expressed the memory of her childhood ordeal.
“You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.” Randal said softly.
“I don't mind talking about it. It was a long time ago, I'm over all that now, but I wonder if Heinrich really knows what he is doing, if he really knows what he is getting us into.” Bridget replied, blinking back tears. The door opened and Ozzie entered fresh from the hunt.
“Here, have a little gin.” Ozzie offered grinning, holding out bottle and glasses to his friends. “ I found the mother lode, there is a liquor cabinet in the dining room after all. The cabinet had a feeble lock, just a little pressure on the door and presto we have all the liquor we could want. Looks the baron and baroness were party animals.”
“either them or the Nazis.” Randal remarked.
“Did you find any mixers?” Bridget asked.
“No, but maybe if we look we can find something in the kitchen, anyone want to go with me this time?”
“Let me have a bit of that gin first to clear my palette”
“Oh, so your a connoisseur now are you?”
“Just give me the gin.” Randal snarked, Ozzie handed him the bottle and he took a swig.
“Just what the doctor ordered. Lets go check out the kitchen.”
“Not without me.” Bridget stated getting up from her chair. “Let's see what snacks we can find while we're at it. Anyone remember the way to the kitchen?”
“Follow me, I found the liquor cabinet I think I can find the fridge. It's all in the nose.” Ozzie said smiling, tapping the tip of his nose with his index finger. He held the door open for his companions to pass, then he propped it open with one of the books.
“It will be a little easier to find the library on our way back this way.”
“ I wonder where Heinrich got off to?” Randal asked.
“He's probably fast asleep by now, as old as he is, I'm sure he needs his rest. That little séance of his was probably the most excitement he has had in years.” Ozzie replied.
“He might be one of those old folks who hardly ever sleep and just wander around during the night. The geriatric crowd can be like that.” They walked down the corridor passing their rooms. Ozzie held his finger to his lips indicating to be quiet as they walked by Heinrich's room. Voices could be heard coming from the other side of his door.
“My Lady, I brought them here for you, for your pleasure, not mine.” Heinrich could be heard speaking clearly, a woman's voice replied, but muffled and unintelligible to those in the hall. Then a loud crash and the tinkle of broken glass echoed through the corridor.
“What the hell was that?” Ozzie exclaimed looking about nervously trying to locate the cause of the noise. Randal grabbed the knob to Heinrich's door and felt the lock fall into place.
