consciousness.
It was dark when he awoke. He was lying
face down on a shale beach. It took him a while to remember what
had happened. Painfully, he raised himself to a standing position
and looked around. It was such a relief when he saw the village
lights quite close by. He wrapped his arms around himself to keep
from shaking, and he stumbled over rocks and seaweed, finally
reaching the edge of the village. He was just below the deck of The
Doryman. With a final effort he pulled himself up the steep grassy
slope and reached the back entrance.
It was a fine Saturday night and the
place was full. Two of his buddies were playing pool along the left
wall. Josh was overjoyed to see Melanie talking to Terry at the
bar. They had planned to meet there for supper after her shift. She
looked his way briefly. He waved, expecting her to wave in return.
He was surprised when she turned her back to him and ordered
another beer from the bartender. Josh took a few steps forward,
more and more puzzled that no one was looking his way, no one was
coming to help.
It was then that he noticed an old man
sitting in the corner booth. The old man raised his glass at him
and smiled. Josh was taken aback by how much the old fella looked
like his grandfather. Then his attention was caught by a woman
sitting alone at a side table. He could only see the back of her
frizzy grey hair. She was wearing a black slicker, and a captain's
hat rested on the table beside her. He slowly walked around and
stood in front of her. She looked him straight in the eye and,
smiling, beckoned him to sit beside her. At that moment Josh's legs
gave way and he slumped to the floor. Before falling into oblivion
he had a moment of utter clarity.
~~~***~~~
The Séance
Russell Barton
“ When I die, you get this,
love. Not that you’ll ever use it.” Lilly Coker, who I had known
for as long as I could remember, pulled an Ouija board from an old,
ornate Captain’s trunk. “Do you remember Mrs. Grimes who held
séances during the war at your family’s house? She always used my
Ouija board. This one.” Lilly pointed at the board and then set it
on the table. I recognised it. “Oh! Lest I forget.” She pulled a
crystal glass from the trunk and placed it, bottom up, in the
centre of the board. Smiling, she looked at me. “Fancy a
whirl?”
“ No, thanks.” I was
helping her pack for her move to an old folk’s condo in Blackheath;
she waitressed in our café for many years when I was very young.
The café was at the front of the kitchen and the family dining room
at the rear. This arrangement made it possible for the café’s
waitresses to occasionally serve meals to family and guests. I
always regarded her as family.
“ You and your Uncle Ted
and that bloomin’ dog gave us quite a fright at one of Mrs.
Grimes’s séances.”
“ I remember. Everyone
panicked in the dark. Mrs. Grimes hoped to communicate with the
dead, especially her son, Michael, shortly after his destroyer was
torpedoed in the Atlantic.”
“ Yes, but others in
England, your relatives included, wanted to contact the loved ones
they lost in the war. But whew! What a panic when the séance got
out of control.”
I grinned. “Even now I remember the
screams.”
Lilly carefully wrapped a cloth around the
board and returned it to the trunk.
“ It’s a nice crystal. I
think I’ll keep it out for use at the condominium.” We lapsed into
silence for a few minutes, Lilly, sorting and packing, but both of
us thinking about the frightening encounter with the supernatural
that happened one evening early in 1944.
On the occasion of the séance, my family and
their guest of honour, Mrs. Grimes, family friend and medium,
settled around the dining room table drinking tea or sipping sherry
while waiting to be served dinner. Even Uncle Raymond, a medical
student, attended because he had been a close friend of Mrs.
Grimes’s son, Michael.
Suddenly, Mrs. Grimes’s cup fell into
It was dark when he awoke. He was lying
face down on a shale beach. It took him a while to remember what
had happened. Painfully, he raised himself to a standing position
and looked around. It was such a relief when he saw the village
lights quite close by. He wrapped his arms around himself to keep
from shaking, and he stumbled over rocks and seaweed, finally
reaching the edge of the village. He was just below the deck of The
Doryman. With a final effort he pulled himself up the steep grassy
slope and reached the back entrance.
It was a fine Saturday night and the
place was full. Two of his buddies were playing pool along the left
wall. Josh was overjoyed to see Melanie talking to Terry at the
bar. They had planned to meet there for supper after her shift. She
looked his way briefly. He waved, expecting her to wave in return.
He was surprised when she turned her back to him and ordered
another beer from the bartender. Josh took a few steps forward,
more and more puzzled that no one was looking his way, no one was
coming to help.
It was then that he noticed an old man
sitting in the corner booth. The old man raised his glass at him
and smiled. Josh was taken aback by how much the old fella looked
like his grandfather. Then his attention was caught by a woman
sitting alone at a side table. He could only see the back of her
frizzy grey hair. She was wearing a black slicker, and a captain's
hat rested on the table beside her. He slowly walked around and
stood in front of her. She looked him straight in the eye and,
smiling, beckoned him to sit beside her. At that moment Josh's legs
gave way and he slumped to the floor. Before falling into oblivion
he had a moment of utter clarity.
~~~***~~~
The Séance
Russell Barton
“ When I die, you get this,
love. Not that you’ll ever use it.” Lilly Coker, who I had known
for as long as I could remember, pulled an Ouija board from an old,
ornate Captain’s trunk. “Do you remember Mrs. Grimes who held
séances during the war at your family’s house? She always used my
Ouija board. This one.” Lilly pointed at the board and then set it
on the table. I recognised it. “Oh! Lest I forget.” She pulled a
crystal glass from the trunk and placed it, bottom up, in the
centre of the board. Smiling, she looked at me. “Fancy a
whirl?”
“ No, thanks.” I was
helping her pack for her move to an old folk’s condo in Blackheath;
she waitressed in our café for many years when I was very young.
The café was at the front of the kitchen and the family dining room
at the rear. This arrangement made it possible for the café’s
waitresses to occasionally serve meals to family and guests. I
always regarded her as family.
“ You and your Uncle Ted
and that bloomin’ dog gave us quite a fright at one of Mrs.
Grimes’s séances.”
“ I remember. Everyone
panicked in the dark. Mrs. Grimes hoped to communicate with the
dead, especially her son, Michael, shortly after his destroyer was
torpedoed in the Atlantic.”
“ Yes, but others in
England, your relatives included, wanted to contact the loved ones
they lost in the war. But whew! What a panic when the séance got
out of control.”
I grinned. “Even now I remember the
screams.”
Lilly carefully wrapped a cloth around the
board and returned it to the trunk.
“ It’s a nice crystal. I
think I’ll keep it out for use at the condominium.” We lapsed into
silence for a few minutes, Lilly, sorting and packing, but both of
us thinking about the frightening encounter with the supernatural
that happened one evening early in 1944.
On the occasion of the séance, my family and
their guest of honour, Mrs. Grimes, family friend and medium,
settled around the dining room table drinking tea or sipping sherry
while waiting to be served dinner. Even Uncle Raymond, a medical
student, attended because he had been a close friend of Mrs.
Grimes’s son, Michael.
Suddenly, Mrs. Grimes’s cup fell into
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