The book said it was called a Ouija Board, which was apparently NOT pronounced how it looked, which probably meant it was French. From what Samara understood of the language, French was just bizarre
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Making her way over to the bookcase to find something to read, Sara couldn't help but notice the other girl with her eyes on a book. She had a strange piece of paper beside her, with letters and numbers written out on it. The only thing Sara could think that it might be used for was teaching reading and writing. Perhaps, Sara reasoned, she was planning to teach someone their alphabet?
Curious - and in any case, always interested in making a new acquaintance - Sara stepped closer to her and asked, 'Excuse me, but what is that for?'
"The book says you can use it to contact the dead," Samara told her. "But I'm not sure that's true. Dead people don't sit around and wait for you to talk with them through letters on a board. And monsters don't use the alphabet."
'To contact the dead?' Sara echoed, quite intrigued by the idea. She had always believed in Heaven, and the thought of her mama and papa looking down upon the Earth and sending her their love had often been a comfort to her. This seemed something quite different, however, but no less intriguing.
'Perhaps the only reason they don't talk to us usually is because they can't,' she suggested, 'because they need something like this to do it.' She frowned down at the board, as though something supernatural might happen at any moment, and asked, in a low voice, 'How is it supposed to work?'
"We need something called a planchette," Samara read. "I don't have one, and neither does the games closet. The book said this is something people do at parties." Her eyebrows went up.
Sara frowned; she couldn't imagine trying to contact the dead in the middle of a happy, joyful party. 'Perhaps adults do it at their parties,' she said a little doubtfully, thinking of the few formal occasions she'd seen when staying with her father in India. 'It seems more like something you'd do at funerals, though. Does it say what a planchette's supposed to look like?' she added, sitting down so she could see the book a little better. 'Perhaps we could find something that would do.'
"Look." Since the other girl didn't seem to be interested in ordinary things or the kind of small talk that was uncomfortable, Samara was more willing to share. "It looks like a triangle with a glass in it."
Sara examined the picture in the book, reading a bit of the text as well. 'I don't think there's anything like this,' she said thoughtfully - though there had to be a way to get around that. 'Do we need the glass? We could just make a triangle out of paper.'
'That would work,' she said, taking a good look at the picture. A drinking glass would be a good idea, she decided. 'I'll fetch one.'
It was almost frightening, she thought as she walked to the kitchen - the idea of contacting the dead. She had heard plenty of ghost stories, and made some up herself. But it was exciting, too, and she certainly didn't believe all dead people were like the spirits from ghost stories. And how could a glass and a piece of paper be dangerous? She wasn't quite certain that it would even work; there might be real magic, like this Island, but that didn't mean some of it was trickery.
Still, she hesitated a moment with the glass in her hand before returning to the rec room, far too curious and a little too proud to stay away.
'Here,' she said, handing the glass over and sitting down beside the other girl again. She felt quite serious, and a little awed, like a participant in some great magical ritual. 'What do we do now?'
"I guess we put it on," and Samara put the glass over the carefully written word Hello. "And... I don't know."
She was quiet for a few seconds, thinking, and then she put her hands on it. "Hello, ghosts. My name is Samara and this is..." She looked at her new companion with her eyebrows raised.
'Sara,' she said, reaching out and putting her hands on the glass as well, as the book had instructed. 'Sara Crewe. Hello.'
She looked around the room quickly, even though she knew there would be nothing there to see - but she couldn't quite resist at the thought that the room might be thronged with ghosts which neither of them could see or hear. She kept her touch very gentle on the glass, glancing a little nervously between Samara and it.
"Sara," she repeated, and then she waited patiently.
It wouldn't have been surprising if nothing had happened-- and that was really how Samara expected things to go. But after several long, silent seconds, the glass jerked a little under her fingers. It made long, swooping movements around the boards, and landed on the letter A.
Sara stared for a moment, wide eyed, at the glass moving. She wasn't doing it, she was certain - and, she thought, glancing over at the other girl, she didn't think Samara was either.
'A,' she whispered out loud, not wanting to speak louder, in case she disturbed whatever was doing this. 'It's working.'
Slowly, the glass began to swing onwards, coming much more quickly to the letter N.
Curious - and in any case, always interested in making a new acquaintance - Sara stepped closer to her and asked, 'Excuse me, but what is that for?'
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'Perhaps the only reason they don't talk to us usually is because they can't,' she suggested, 'because they need something like this to do it.' She frowned down at the board, as though something supernatural might happen at any moment, and asked, in a low voice, 'How is it supposed to work?'
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"What kind of parties?"
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Helpfully, she pushed the book sideways.
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It was almost frightening, she thought as she walked to the kitchen - the idea of contacting the dead. She had heard plenty of ghost stories, and made some up herself. But it was exciting, too, and she certainly didn't believe all dead people were like the spirits from ghost stories. And how could a glass and a piece of paper be dangerous? She wasn't quite certain that it would even work; there might be real magic, like this Island, but that didn't mean some of it was trickery.
Still, she hesitated a moment with the glass in her hand before returning to the rec room, far too curious and a little too proud to stay away.
'Here,' she said, handing the glass over and sitting down beside the other girl again. She felt quite serious, and a little awed, like a participant in some great magical ritual. 'What do we do now?'
Reply
She was quiet for a few seconds, thinking, and then she put her hands on it. "Hello, ghosts. My name is Samara and this is..." She looked at her new companion with her eyebrows raised.
Reply
She looked around the room quickly, even though she knew there would be nothing there to see - but she couldn't quite resist at the thought that the room might be thronged with ghosts which neither of them could see or hear. She kept her touch very gentle on the glass, glancing a little nervously between Samara and it.
Reply
It wouldn't have been surprising if nothing had happened-- and that was really how Samara expected things to go. But after several long, silent seconds, the glass jerked a little under her fingers. It made long, swooping movements around the boards, and landed on the letter A.
Reply
'A,' she whispered out loud, not wanting to speak louder, in case she disturbed whatever was doing this. 'It's working.'
Slowly, the glass began to swing onwards, coming much more quickly to the letter N.
Reply
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