The Ghost Chronicles Part 20

Suddenly feeling like a trained monkey performing for an audience, Gavin and I walked around the far side of the bed. I began to feel the swirl of energy encircling us. Almost in unison we said, "Someone's here."

My breathing became shallow, labored. I sighed heavily. "Gavin, are you feeling this?"

"Yes." His voice sounded distant as the energy closed in on me.

"Why don't you two hold hands?" Ron said. "Let's see what you can pick up as a team."

Hesitantly, almost as if we both were afraid that we'd somehow hurt each other, we took a step, closing the gap between us. Slowly, we reached out and took each other's hands in our own. I closed my eyes and focused my intentions. A spirit was with us. Of this I had no doubt. But who? Was it Lizzie? Abby? Mentally I reached out. Suddenly, my world began to spin out of control. It was too late to turn back now. My consciousness faded into the background.

I stood closer to Maureen and Gavin. Her body swayed. She raised her head slowly. Her eyes were piercing. It was the look I'd seen many times before. It was no longer just Maureen.

Camcorder rolling, seizing the moment, Byron spoke up in his heavy British accent. "If you're here, can you step forward for us?" He paused, only for a second. "Can you let us know that you're here?" Barely pausing, "Can you step through. . .okay, do you want to speak to us?"

No response could be heard except the sound of Maureen's labored breathing.

"Hold up," I said to Byron, realizing that Maureen needed time to adjust to the alien energy pulsating through her body.

As she raised her head, she stared at me. By the look in her eyes, I knew it was no longer Maureen. "Who's with us now?"

Eyes now closed, Maureen inhaled deeply. A series of moans escaped her lips. Sighing heavily, she lowered her head, slowly shaking it from side to side. In a voice not her own, she spat, "Dirty girl."

"Who are we speaking with?" I asked.

In a throaty whisper, barely audible, she said, "Abigail."

"Abigail," I said, repeating her name. "Do you have something you want to tell us?"

Maureen inhaled. Exhaled. She sighed deeply once again. She groaned. "Never turn your back." Penetrating eyes met my stare. "In this house," she finished with a hiss.

Not wanting Gavin to become a hindrance, I leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Let her go."

All too eager to comply, Gavin quickly released her hands and scurried to the edge of the room.

I addressed Maureen once again. "Abigail, why are you still here?"

Her breath raspy, once again she began shaking her head side to side. Her voice thick with emotion, she replied, "I-can't-leave."

Touched by her sorrow and eager to understand, I asked, "Do you want to leave?"

She slowly moved her head from left to right, pivoting on the b.a.l.l.s of her feet. Her body swayed to and fro. She stumbled backwards.

One look at her awkward movements and I realized Maureen, teetering on the brink of consciousness, was losing the battle. My arm reached out to steady her.

Her breathing stopped for a mere moment as an inaudible gasp escaped her lips.

"Abigail," I repeated. "Why can't you leave?"

Agitated, Maureen drew a long agonizing breath, tearing away from my grasp. She retreated backwards, mere inches from the wall. Doubling over, her body rocked up and down. She expelled a sudden, high-pitched moan, obliterating the growing murmurs of the onlookers. Just then her body stiffened. Her eyes were engaged one moment and haunted the next, as if vanishing behind a mask. The ent.i.ty had taken control.

Maureen was gone.

"Abigail. Abigail!"

She turned to her side. Her body writhed in pain. She coughed, choked. Wet gurgling sounds emanated from deep within her throat, as if she was vomiting. Violently she dropped to the floor, screaming, kicking, gagging, as retching sounds continued to spew forth.

Reacting quickly, I tossed the microphone on the bed and dove to the floor. I grabbed her flailing legs. My only reward was a kick to the groin. I gritted my teeth as I heard her head slam against the wall. I reached for her legs once again, pulling her away. Leaning my weight on her I screamed, "Maureen! Maureen!"

Still gurgling, gagging, spewing, to all in the room she sounded as if she were puking.

"Where's the light? Get a flashlight over there," Ron Jr. cried out from the back of the room.

"No. We're using infrared, it could screw 'em up," I commanded. Maureen whimpered as I continued to wrestle with her convulsing body. "Maureen! Maureen!" I repeated, as I placed my hand on the side of her head. "Abigail, leave. Leave this body. It's not yours." I repeated, "Leave this body, it's not yours."

Maureen's body went limp for a fraction of a second.

When she regained consciousness, her body jerked in response. She bolted upright. The palms of her hands digging into my chest, she shoved me back. "Get-off me. Get off me. Get off me," Maureen cried. As I stood up, she cowered in the corner, both hands clutching her head. "My freaking head. It's killing me!" She cried out. "Oh my G.o.d. It hurts."

"Did it feel like forty whacks?" I chuckled, in an attempt to lighten the moment.

"Ha, ha." Maureen grimaced as she continued to clutch the back of her head. She looked down at her bare feet. "Where are my shoes?"

I knelt down and ran my hands along the pile of the carpet. "I don't know where they are," I said. Grabbing a flashlight I looked under the bed. "How the heck did they get way over there?" I lay down, chest on the floor, and stretched to reach them. "Here." I tossed them to her.

Maureen pushed up on her hands, then dropped back down.

Realizing her plight, Gavin hurried over and placed his hands in front of her. "How about a bit of energy to get you going?"

A few moments later, Gavin stood up, reached out his hand, and helped Maureen off the floor.

Ron Jr. turned on the bedroom lights and walked over to where Maureen and Gavin were standing. He looked at the carpet. "There's nothing there? I could have sworn you threw up."

"Maureen," Byron screeched. "Look at this."

Maureen and Gavin stopped talking between themselves and turned to look over Byron's shoulder, at the faded photograph hanging on the wall.

"Oh my G.o.d, Maureen," Gavin said, pointing at the picture, then at the flowered carpet beneath our feet. "You almost landed the same way Abby did."

Maureen, looking a bit stunned, said, "'Oh my G.o.d' is right. That's disgusting." She hesitated. "Ron, come here. Take a look at this."

I went to see what the buzz was about. Looking at the photograph, I said, "Wow, that's great. A dead body. Now let's get going." Maureen sighed heavily.

"What? What's the matter?" I looked at Maureen once again, then stopped short. "Are you okay? Seriously, you're not looking so hot."

"Well, actually, I'm feeling like c.r.a.p." She turned her wrist over. "It's after ten o'clock, and I have to get up at five for work."

"And your point?" I grinned. But I knew where she was going with this. She had stayed way longer than originally planned. Not to mention the beating she took.

"I'm going to get going. I have a long ride home." Maureen looked around the room. "Sorry, guys."

"Would you mind dropping me off at the hotel?" Martin asked.

"No problem. Let's go." With that she and Martin headed downstairs.

With Maureen gone, we continued our investigation. Emily, a tour guide for the B&B who had just arrived, led us to the bas.e.m.e.nt.

"Gavin, what are you feeling?" I asked.

Gavin paced back and forth across the dirt floor. "The darkness I felt before when Maureen and I first entered the house is gone now."

"What do you mean it's gone?" I asked. "It just disappeared?"

Gavin replied, "Ron, as I'm sure you must know, the energy can move around. Here one minute, gone the next. Sometimes not restricted to one room, or the house for that matter. In fact, it takes a lot for a spirit to manifest. The energy can dissipate as the night goes on."

"Oh, then they're not much different than we are," I said.

Gavin half laughed. "No they're not. Oh, wait, I'm getting something," he said, putting his fingers to his temple. "A coffin?" He twisted at the waist, turning to look at the rest of us. "Yes, I think there was a coffin here at one time."

Emily said, "Come with me." She motioned for us to follow.

Curious, we hurried through an opening in the bas.e.m.e.nt wall, entering a small, cluttered room. There, to our astonishment, tucked into the corner was a pine coffin.

"Oh, do you believe this?" Gavin said.

"It's not a real coffin. It's one that we use for Halloween decorations." She smiled. "But the fact that you picked up on it is cool, just the same."

Just then my EMF meter blared, startling the group. "What's that?" Gavin asked.

"Oh, that's nothing." I said as I took the meter and raised it to the wires running along the rafters. "It's just the wires. Electrical wires are a natural source of EMF."

Gavin frowned, looking a little disappointed.

I still wanted to try some experiments to contact the spirits, so we cut short our investigation of the bas.e.m.e.nt. As we stepped into the kitchen, we found Lee Ann.

"How did it go down there?" she asked.

"Not too bad. Actually, I did pick up on the coffin you have stashed away." Gavin beamed.

Lee Ann looked a little puzzled, then her eyes sparkled. "Oh, my Halloween decorations."

"Lee Ann, do you have a small table?" I asked. "I want to do a little experiment."

"Table tilting?"

"Yes." I watched as the look of pride washed across Lee Ann's features. Evidently she'd had experience with this before.

TABLE TILTING.

Developed in the 1900s as part of the Spiritualist movement. The partic.i.p.ants sit around a table, join hands, and attempt to reach out to the spirits. The spirits respond by moving, levitating, or knocking on the table.

Lee Ann brought a small octagonal wooden table up from the bas.e.m.e.nt and placed it in the middle of the front parlor. Lee Ann, Pippa, Gavin, and I sat at the table. Ron Jr. was viewing the room on the monitors of the base camp, while Laura took up a position in the far corner of the room. Jim, manning the camcorder, stood over my shoulder. Byron, his camcorder in hand, took a seat on the couch. Laura dimmed the lights as I turned on my EMF meter and placed it in the center of the table, hoping it would detect any fluctuations in the magnetic field of the room. Placing our fingertips on the table, we began.

Ron, Pippa, Gavin, and Lee Ann attempt to make contact with the spirits of the Lizzie Borden House via table tilting Gavin spoke: "I call upon all spirits around us tonight. I call upon all spirits in this house. I invite you to draw closer to this table. Tilt this table, move this table. I call on all spirits, whether male, female, or child, to draw closer. Use all your energy to make this table move."

Jumping in, I said, "We mean you no harm. I know it is difficult, but please try. Use our energy. We give it freely."

Gavin said, "All spirits in this house, please come forward and let us know you're here."

It didn't take long before I could feel a gentle hypnotic rocking of the table beneath my fingertips. Someone was here. My heart beat slowed in sync with the rhythmic sway of the table.

"It's rocking!" Gavin cried. "Whatever spirit is here, can you make it go faster?"

My eyes closed; somehow, not sure how I was doing it, I mentally tapped into the spirit circling the table. "Patience, patience, she's trying," I whispered.

"Which spirit is here?" Lee Ann asked over the creaking of the table as it swayed.

"Abby's here," Gavin said. "Byron, can you ask the questions?"

"Sure," he replied. "Abby, if you are here can you please make the table move faster? Show us you are here. Show us you can communicate with us. Please." The table rocked, harder and harder, creaking and moaning.

"She's showing herself to me," Gavin said. "She is not showing herself as she looked normally, but the way she looked when she was murdered. Like she just got up from the spot. She's between Ron and Pip, right in front of that lamp." The rocking grew stronger; our fingers barely touched the table.

Pippa spoke, "Abby, do you want us to know that Lizzie did this to you?"

"For the record," I said, "Lizzie was proven innocent. So she didn't do it. Did she?" The rocking of the table stopped as if it were held down by some supernatural force. Evidently, Abby did not like my statement. "Oh, wow, did you see that?"

"Abby, if Lizzie killed you, could you please make the table move again?" Pippa asked. No sooner had the words left her lips, when the rocking returned. It appeared she was confirming that Lizzie had murdered her.

"I know this is going really well," Byron said, "but maybe we ought to try gla.s.s swirling. It requires less energy."

GLa.s.s SWIRLING.

Introduced by the British, it involves placing a gla.s.s rim-down on a table. Each partic.i.p.ant places a finger on the bottom of the gla.s.s. The spirit, using the energy of the group, moves the gla.s.s in response to questions.

"I don't know, Byron. I have never seen so much energy like this before. I'm barely touching the table and look at it rock," Pippa said. "Let's try something. Everyone take their fingers off the table." Lifting our fingers, it immediately went dead. "Put them back down." As we did, the table began to rock. "See, she's using our energy."

A thought popped into my head. "I feel she's getting tired. Why don't we try the gla.s.s swirling?" I paused. "Thank you, Abby. We really appreciate your help." The table went dead.

Removing my EMF meter, we replaced it with a short drinking gla.s.s, positioning it in the center of the table.

Gavin began, "I want everyone to picture a band of white light surrounding us. Enveloping us. Protecting us." After a moment of silence, we began.

Pippa said, "Everyone, please place the very tips of your fingers on the gla.s.s. Like this."

We all mirrored her movements. "We would like to call Abby forth. We know that you want to communicate. We know you have a story to tell. Can you please step forward?" Pippa said softly, as the gla.s.s began to slide across the table toward Lee Ann.

"She's drawn to you," Gavin said.