Séance for Dummies by T. R. Hixson

On Halloween, we’re all told, “you can be anything you ever wanted or desired.” I wanted to be anything other than an invisible ghost, but that’s what I was, a ghost, invisible to everyone around. People pass me talking about their boring lives, which I’m instantly jealous of. I want a life. But mine feels over. Lately I have felt like a drifter. Drifting in and out of life. Lately I’ve become a follower, which is worse. I follow someone that doesn’t see me, the real me.

I’m getting summoned to a dining room. I could fight it but I know I’ll be dragged there eventually. I already hear her voice like an out of tune siren. She chants in Latin as others follow in her lead. I hate that I’m so drawn to this woman. I’m weak but wish I was strong. I need to stand up to her.

I glide into the semi-dark dining room that’s lit by two real black candles flickering and pause for effect, the rest have their cell phone set to an app that looks like a black flickering candle. I roll my eyes so hard they feel like they could get stuck that way.

Those gathered around the table hold hands in mismatched costumes, looking like the Fellowship of the Justice League of Horror. The main chanter, Victoria, (my Victoria) is dressed fittingly like the witch that she is.

Victoria isn’t a witch even though she wishes she was one. She’s a fraud; if people only knew this chant was from Séance for Dummies. And if people only knew how many times she screwed up chants by interchanging “lucem” for “lumos” which isn’t even Latin, it’s from Harry Potter.

I wouldn’t say what we have is a relationship, she calls I come. We don’t speak, we never really did. She has never seen the real me. I’m not a trophy that she shows off, I’m like a creature at freakshow you get one glance that holds your attention until the curtain shuts then move on to the next.

The lights of the room flicker on and off as the chanters stop for a second to ooh and ahh. This is new. Is someone flicking the light on and off?

I cannot take being the invisible man any longer, I get right next to her mutli-pierced ear, ” Your embarrassing yourself … and me! Admit you don’t know what you’re doing and STOP!”

She waves me away like a rotten stench, my voice fades like an echo in the wind.

Victoria adding a slight European accent says, ” I feel the spirits rising. We must keep focused if we want to see ghosts this night!” She makes her knuckles turn crimson as she tightens her grip.

I no longer linger by her side; I want no part of this. I squint through the flicker. I look for other onlookers to see through this bullshit, but they seem enchanted.

Victoria is going off book; her tablet screen is black. She has them stand with a head gesture, as the words get louder. The words make my head hurt as they get louder than I thought possible. They hit the crescendo of the chant when Victoria shouts like a banshee in a breaking the glass competition, “Appareo Phasma!” Appear Ghost. And …Darkness.

The Power goes out, along with the candlelight. Silence and darkness fill the room. A faint glow comes into the room behind something that is an almost transparent white. Shape of people step back as this entity can enter. The glow takes the shape of a circle then a star, and then it is both. The glow is gone as a white smoke drifts up into a blinding light like a new soul ascending heaven.

No, the power has returned. We hear the faint music of another part of the room, and the whir of a returning fan as our eyes see the ghost.

The ghost is in a high fiber sheet with circle cuts to the eyes. He holds a handmade chocolate cake drizzled with red icing and candles that form the shape of a pentagram.

The ghost guy starts a quiet laugh and says, “I got this for the ghosts, where are they?” not getting the response he wanted, he adds, “Did someone die?”

This starts a snickering that turns into a full-blown laugh for everyone but Victoria and me.

“You dick, asshole, I could feel their presence. They were almost revealed in their spectral form. Did you not feel the touch of the dead on your skin?” Says an exasperated Victoria. She starts punching the guy in the ghost costume.

“Let me put down the ghost cake first. Geez it was just a joke.” He quickly blows out the candles.

Victoria breathes in and out, trying to find inner Zen. “Let’s try again.”

One brave soul dressed as Frodo says, “I could use a smoke.”

Then others chime in with agreement.

Victoria sneers like a disappointed head mistress, “fine”, and walks away.

I blend in with others as she passes.

The crowd empties out of the room, as I turn toward the Séance cake. The pentagram frosting is blending with dripping red and black candle wax. I want to smash this cake and let Victoria see, this is what I think of her hobby. This is how I want her to see me fed up with all the bullshit. I’m tired of following her around.

I’m staring so hard at the cake that I don’t see that I’m being watched, but I feel the presence, a strange connection. I turn to the side and see a pale beauty with long black hair draped around a white with lace toga with gold trim.

“Is this cake a birthday to the spirits?” She asks with a slight otherworldly accent.

“Right, because it’s every ghost’s birthday on Halloween.”

She smirks and hides it beneath her hair. “Did the witch bring you here?”

“Yeah, she called and I arrived.”

“Me too.”

“Really? I’ve never seen you before, maybe she didn’t think we should meet.”

“I don’t know about that, but I don’t think she realized what would happen if we did.”

“Oh yeah, what’s going to hap…?”

She shushes me by putting two fingers to my mouth. I feel them against my lip, tasting her skin. I kiss her fingers not thinking about what I’m doing. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched, since I felt anything. I look at her, truly seeing her soul shining bright. She glides her finger tracing every bump on my lips. She makes contact as she takes her other hand and knocks over a black candle that falls with thunk!

“Holy Shit” I say through her moist fingers.

She grabs my hand like we’re about to jump off a cliff; she brings it closer to the fallen candle. I touch it, feeling the smoothness of the candle to the coldness of the glass candleholder. She is not going to send it over the edge, she wants it to be me. I flick my wrist as the candle goes flying off the table shattering on the floor.

She kisses me as our entwined hands clear one side of the table knocking empty bottles of beer and half drunk red solo cups to the floor.

The sound alerts someone.

“Woah! Get Victoria now! She got to see this.

Get her, I think, I want her to see this! I want her to see me, the real me for the first time.

I want to ask this woman so many questions, am I her first? Or does she do this all the time? And what’s your name?

I hold her tight as I kiss the side of her neck; my hand sweeps the other side of the table. I watch with glee as Victoria’s tablet gets sloshed with beer as it slides off the table.

The table is mostly clear except for that damned cake, and a few bottles and cups that made it to the edge of the table.

The woman jumps into my arms straddling me before the table.

I hear Victoria’s voice before it enters the room, “What’s happening?! Tell me everything.”

A voice kind of scared says, “it’s still happening!”

“Move out of my way!”

I see you as my head comes up from white lace; a grin comes to my face as I see you take in the scene.

A stunned silence has gripped you for the first time.

I place the woman on top of the cake and grind her down thrust by thrust.

“I don’t believe it!” She squeaks out. Her eyes get bigger as the cake gets flatter and flatter, until it’s a stain on the table. “G-ghosts!

Now she sees me, I don’t feel so invisible anymore.

—

T. R. Hixson is a sketch comedy writer that has some jokes aired on Comedy Central. This is the first short story he’s ever sent out for publication. On most Halloween’s you will find him dressed as Frodo from Lord of the Rings.