Rendezvous in Brooklyn

She looked deeply into his eyes.  He was seated across the table from her, a sputtering candle chaperoning between them.

“Is this your first time?” she asked kindly.

“How did you know?”

“You look nervous. ”

“I am.  I’ve never done this before.”

“It’s alright,” she said.  “It’s easy and I’m here to take care of you.”

“Thank you.  But I don’t need taking care of.”

“Oh, I know.  It’s just that –  the first time you don’t know what to expect.  And I’ve done this……well a lot.”

“You must think I’m so incredibly naive.”

“Not at all.  I think you are sweet.  It was kind of you to come at such short notice. ”

“No one ever asked before,” he said with a little embarrassed laugh.  “I guess I’m not very suited to this, this, er….performance?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said.  “You will be wonderful – I can tell.”

“So – what happens next?” he asked.

“Myra!” a strident voice interrupted them.  “What is he saying?  I know he’s here, you are obviously talking to someone!”

She turned to the rather large woman sitting to her right.  “He is asking what we want to know, Mrs. Hamilton.

“Well!” huffed the other woman.  “Clearly we want to know if he can contact my husband!  Is this personage a dolt?”

Myra cringed and shot a quick glance across the table to see if Charles was offended.  He sat calmly, hands folded in front of him.

“Can you hear her?” she whispered.

“No.  Is she talking?”

She tried not to allow the relief to show in her voice.   “She is asking if you can contact her husband.”

“And I am supposed to know her husband?  Because all dead people know all other dead people?” he said.

She couldn’t help laughing.  “I shall inquire.”

“Mrs. Hamilton it will help my Spirit Guide if you could tell us something about your husband,” she said.   The other woman smiled.

“Well, he was very handsome……and very successful……and left us all too soon,” she murmured.   “Also I’d like to know where he left the will?  His children – my step-children – are going to contest my ability to inherit anything and it would be such a help if Ernest could just let me know where the will is.  He promised me I would inherit everything, you see.”

“She wants to know where Ernest left the will.”

“Ernest?” Charles asked.  “Ernest have a last name?”

“Hamilton.”

“Ernest Hamilton.  I’ll just ring him up, shall I?”

“Look, Charles,  I don’t know how to tell you to find….”

“The will was never written.” Charles intoned in his best sonorous voice.

“What?”

“He never wrote a will.  He lied to her.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me.  I know.  Tell her.”

“There is no will, Mrs. Hamilton.  Apparently your husband made that up.”

“I KNEW IT!” the other woman shreiked. “BASTARD!”

A long silence settled on the room.

“How we doing so far?” Charles asked

“Ummmm, good, really good.  You’re a natural at this.”

 

Seance circa 1920’s – if Poe and Lovecraft attended…….

 

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Written for the Yeah Write fiction challenge number 183 .  Go to Yeah Write Fiction/Poetry to read all the other awesome entries!