Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Cindy went with Miss Blasko to see her mother off at the airport. Elizabeth had to wipe a tear as Cindy gave her a tight hug.
"I'll call you first thing tomorrow morning," Elizabeth whispered to her daughter. "You go home and let Miss Blasko tuck you in."
Cindy nodded numbly. "Okay, Mommy." She just stared ahead in dull indolence.
"Don't look at me like that, Cindy. I can't help it, sweetheart."
Cindy nodded again, said goodbye to her mother, and allowed Miss Blasko to escort her back to the car.
It was very difficult to sleep that night. Cindy must have lie in bed for hours before she fell asleep. She didn't know what was going to happen in the house without her mother. Plus, her mother and Anthony's bedroom was right next to hers, and Anthony's terrible coughing echoed through the wall.
The next morning, Cindy spoke with her mother very briefly on the phone; Elizabeth had to get to a meeting. "Call me at lunchtime, sweetheart!" Elizabeth called. "Miss Blasko has the phone number to my hotel room! If I'm not there, just leave a message."
"Okay," Cindy mumbled dejectedly. Sure, she could talk on the phone with her mother three times a day, but she wanted those phone calls to last more than a couple of seconds.
After barely touching her breakfast, Cindy sat down at the piano to practice with Miss Blasko; the housekeeper had started giving her lessons about a month ago.
Miss Blasko was actually smiling. She told her young charge that she would be ready to play for "Master Shrack" soon.
Miss Blasko's smile gave Cindy the creeps.
At the end of the lesson, Cindy decided to practice some more before lunch. There was nothing else to do anyway, except for sit in her room and play with her dolls by herself—which was getting pretty boring—and visit Anthony, which she wouldn't do if her life depended on it.
Of course, there was always someone else in the house she could play with.
"Hey, Cindy, want to play with my Ouija board?" Edgar, Cindy's stepbrother, was at the foot of the stairs, clad in his usual ensemble of all black. Edgar didn't like Cindy when she and her first moved into the house, but she was definitely beginning to grow on him.
"What a Ouija board?"
"It's what I use to talk to the deceased."
Cindy gave her stepbrother a look. "Why in the world would I want to do that?"
Edgar sighed. "Because there are some really interesting people out there! Last week, I talked to Truman Capote, and the week before that, I talked to Ernest Hemingway, and the week before that-"
An idea popped into Cindy's head, and she gasped, her eyes going wide. "Edgar…do you think the Ouija board would put me in touch with my dad?"
"Your father who passed away?"
"Yeah. He died five years ago."
Edgar shrugged. "Well, we can try."
"Where's your Ouija board?"
"In my father's study. He's sick and probably won't write for a couple of days. Some day, that study is going to be mine." Cindy paled.
"Come on, the dead don't like to be kept waiting!"
"O-okay," Cindy said nervously, heading for Anthony Strack's study.
Edgar had the Ouija board set on Mr. Strack's coffee table. He and Cindy both kneeled on the floor, and for a while, Cindy just stared at it. "What do we do?" she finally asked.
"Well, you put both of your hands on the pointer, and then we ask a question. If you ask a yes or no question, the pointer will glide toward either 'YES' or 'NO.' If you ask an open-ended question, the pointer will spell out the answer using the alphabet. Look, the letters are all here." He gestured toward the center of the board, where the letters of the alphabet were spelled out about an inch apart.
"Who moves the pointer?"
"The spirits," said Edgar mysteriously.
Cindy glowered. There were no such thing as spirits—at least, that's what her mother kept drilling into her head—but after moving into the Stracks' house, Cindy wasn't so sure her mother knew what she was talking about. "Well…where do we start?" she asked, placing her hands on the pointer.
Edgar shrugged. "Ask a question. What's your late father's name?"
"Frank Martin."
"Ask for Frank Martin."
Cindy shrugged. "Okay." She looked upward toward the ceiling. "Is my father, Frank Martin, available to talk to us?"
Very slowly, the pointer slid Cindy and Edgar's hands to the word NO.
"Where is he, then, if we can't speak to him?" Edgar spoke up.
That was a good question, Cindy thought to herself. Eagerly, she leaned over the coffee table. The pointer slid to the letter S, then L, then E.
"S-L-E…I bet it's spelling out the word 'sleep,'" Cindy guessed aloud. Sure enough, the pointer lingered for a while on E, then slid over to P. "My father's sleeping."
"Let's ask about my mother," Edgar suggested.
"Okay. Hey, this is pretty fun! Edgar, how often do you do this?"
"A couple of times a day. I very much enjoy speaking with the dead."
Cindy didn't ask why, but she made a mental note to herself to play with the Ouija board with Edgar more often. Maybe someday, she would finally be able to talk with her deceased father.
"Is Judith Strack available?" Edgar asked aloud. Very slowly, the pointer slid to the word NO.
"Then where is Edgar's mother?" Cindy piped up.
Very slowly, the pointer spelled out the word W-I-T-H. Then it slid over to the letter A. Then N, then T, then H.
"A-N-T-H…I bet it's spelling out my father's name, Anthony," Edgar mused. Sure enough, the pointer finished up with O-N-Y.
"With Anthony," Cindy stated. "What could that mean? Is she watching over your father as he's sleeping?"
"Sure," Edgar agreed. "I think she's still in love with my father, even though she's dead. I wouldn't be surprised if my father's bedroom is haunted by her spirit."
Cindy rolled his eyes. All of his spook talk was going from uncomfortable to just plain annoying. He never stopped.
"Children, it's time for lunch," Miss Blasko called, knocking on the study door.
"Come on, Cindy. We'll talk with the spirits some more this afternoon."
"I want to ask about my grandmother next!" Cindy clamored.
As she followed her stepbrother to the dining room, she forgot all about wanting to call her mother in Chicago.