The planchette hesitated, spun freely under Phoebe’s fingers with a life of its own and quickly spelled out a message. Jennifer read the letters aloud as the planchette rapidly moved across the board: “T-A-M-I-T.”
Phoebe, her eyes closed again, paused a moment to frame her next question.
Her hands stopped moving. The heart-shaped planchette froze. Jennifer held her breath and watched Phoebe.
“Tell me, Pharaoh,” Phoebe said to the Ouija board, “who in this lifetime is Tamit?”
K ATH Y
“No!” Jennifer whispered, and the breath went out of her.
Jennifer looked down at the board as the planchette, moving under Phoebe’s touch, spelled out the story from the days of Ramses the Great, of how Amenhotep had fought a battle and killed the Ethiopian monarch to marry Roudidit. Then Tamit, the jealous daughter of Nenoferkaptak, had Roudidit murdered when Amenhotep was away at Memphis.
“And who is Amenhotep?” Phoebe asked.
KIRK
Phoebe Fisher pushed the Ouija board away and looked over at Jennifer. She looked worried now. The warm softness had slipped off her face. She seemed older in the winter light of the afternoon. “It is clear from what this ‘Pharaoh’ spirit is telling me,” she said carefully to Jennifer, “that an ancient drama is being played out today.”
“I just don’t understand why now.” Jennifer kept shaking her head. “It’s an endless puzzle. We keep going around in circles. Everyone used to be someone else; no one is who they are. I’m not me!” She looked at Phoebe, her eyes showing her feeling of helplessness.
Phoebe reached over to hold Jennifer’s hand, telling her, “You are frightened, I know, Jennifer, and with good cause. Your spirit has been in revolt against your rational consciousness. Your friends appear to be your enemies. Your whole world has changed beyond recognition. But you cannot let your fear become your prison. You must not lose hope, or you will not transform your life.”
Jennifer shook her head, still bewildered.
“To reach the light, you must endure the burning,” Phoebe summed up.
“I’ve had the burning,” Jennifer replied soberly. “And there is going to be more.”
“Yes, you must face your enemy.”
Jennifer nodded, then asked, “Will you help me?”
“I’ll try,” she whispered, her eyes not leaving Jennifer’s face. Then she said, “You could be killed, Jennifer.”
“Or I could kill again.”
Phoebe nodded. “You have no choice.” Then she stood up, saying, “I’ll get your coat.” The channeler stepped around the coffee table and limped into her bedroom, to where she had left Jennifer’s fur coat and luggage.
Jennifer pulled a tissue from the pocket of her jeans and wiped her nose. She was staring down at the Ouija board that Phoebe had left on the coffee table. It looked so innocent, she thought, nothing more than a silly children’s game.
She reached out and touched the smooth heart-shaped planchette, let her fingertips rest lightly for a moment on the plastic surface. Her hands trembled, and she felt a sudden bolt of energy rush into her fingers, up her arms. It took her breath away. She jerked her hand away from the planchette and sat back.
What are you? she thought, staring at the Ouija board.
The heart-shaped planchette moved then without the touch of her fingers. It traced across the smooth surface of the board spelling out an answer. But this time it was not “Pharaoh” who replied to Jennifer:
I AM YOUR SOUL
Jennifer sat very still as she watched the planchette spell out the answer. She was frightened again, holding her breath, but she was also thrilled, as if she were lifting up the edge of a forbidden universe.
Who am I? Jennifer thought next, concentrating on the board. Her eyes did not waver from the plastic planchette. Again it moved, responding to her silent thought, spelling out the words:
YOU ARE THE FIRST
Jennifer sat staring at the Ouija board, puzzled by the replies and not sure what to say. She heard Phoebe in the next room, heard her say something about the weather, the terrible winter New York was having, and Jennifer quickly directed her concentration to the board and asked: I am the first what?
The smooth marker slid across the flat board, spelling out one word:
HUMAN
Then Phoebe reached the living room, carrying Jennifer’s heavy fur coat, and saw that the heart-shaped planchette was moving effortlessly under the power of Jennifer’s spirit.
“What are you doing?” the channeler shouted, dropping the coat and stumbling forward, tripping on her deformed leg.
“Nothing! I’m not doing anything!” Jennifer exclaimed, jumping up and tipping over the Ouija board, terrified by the violence of Phoebe’s reaction. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything.”
“What did it tell you? Didn’t I tell you the board was dangerous?” The small woman had regained her balance and had pulled herself onto the arm of the sofa. She kept glaring at Jennifer, her eyes white with fright.
“I’m sorry, Phoebe. I didn’t mean—”
“What did it tell you?”
“Nothing. I mean
” Jennifer kept shaking her head, still terrified and upset by the channeler’s violent reaction. “I’m terribly sorry, but I didn’t understand. I mean—” Jennifer took a deep breath and, recovering her composure, said forcefully, “Phoebe, I’m sorry I upset you, but you shouldn’t have shouted at me! I’m a case of nerves as it is.” Jennifer glanced down and was surprised to see her hands were not trembling.
“What did you learn?” Phoebe demanded.
“Nothing! I was just asking a question.”
“You’re not trained to use a talking board,” Phoebe said again, watching Jennifer. Her face had lost all of its soft, smooth glow.
“I’m sorry,” Jennifer said slowly, not looking at Phoebe. She was afraid to trade glances with the channeler.
Phoebe stood again, fully recovered. The softness returned to her voice and she said, “I’m sorry, Jennifer. I just don’t want you to be misled. Ouija boards, as I mentioned, are often controlled by spirits of a lower order.” She bent then to pick up Jennifer’s coat, and Jennifer glanced at the board, directing her thoughts at the heart-shaped planchette, asking one last question of her hidden spirit: Who wants to kill me?
The plastic planchette began to move on the smooth surface when Phoebe jumped forward and swept the instrument off the board, knocking it across the room, where it skipped off the stone hearth of the fireplace and flew into the fire, sizzling at once in the heat of the flame.
“You must never—!” The channeler regained her stance and focused on Jennifer.
Phoebe was trembling, Jennifer realized. The channeler was the one who was truly frightened.
“I am trying to save your life, don’t you see?” Phoebe shouted at her.
Jennifer nodded, reaching for her coat. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
Phoebe reached out and touched Jennifer’s hands.
“Jennifer, I’m sorry I shouted at you. It’s just that you must be careful when you involve yourself in the spirit world.” She had both her hands on Jennifer’s arms and was looking up lovingly at her. “You will be careful, won’t you?”
“Yes, I’ll try.”
“Good!” And she reached up and quickly kissed Jennifer good-bye. “Remember, I love you. I’ll see that you are protected from your ancient lives,” she said, speaking softly to Jennifer, but the channeler’s lips were cold on her cheek.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
JENNIFER GRABBED A TAXI on Columbus Avenue and told the driver she wanted to go to LaGuardia. Kirk’s flight was not due until after seven, and though she had time to go home to her place first and unpack, she was now afraid to go there by herself, especially after witnessing what the Ouija board had done, how the planchette had moved, spelling out her fate. What would it have told her if Phoebe hadn’t knocked the instrument off the board? Jennifer shuddered, recalling Phoebe’s act of violence, her sudden strange reaction to what the Ouija board was telling her. Phoebe’s behavior had upset her, Jennifer realized, as much as what had happened to her on the farm.