PLEASE MR. OUIJA

PLEASE MR. OUIJA

 How fast can you spell run?

 **

 From the day I said, “I do”, I wished I hadn’t.

 He seemed like the greatest man on earth, and I fell deeply in.

 We had our honeymoon planned. We were to leave the next morning for our week in a resort in the Poconos Mountains. Ha! The second we arrived in our home, he said, “Don’t bother to pack. I changed my mind. We’re not going.”

 He didn’t care about losing our deposit. In fact, he didn’t seem to care much about anything – except:

You need to visit the supermarket.

Where did you place the satin bag with our wedding gifts? They need to be counted.

What did you plan to cook for tonight’s supper?

 Being a new, and I do mean NEW wife, I was somewhat eager to please. I say “somewhat” because I had always been an independent person and not one to adhere to “strong suggestions”.

 Yet, somehow, we made our marriage work. I became used to us strong suggestions, many of which I defiantly ignored. He got used to my defiance. Were we happy? We were content and used to each other. So, there is that.

 Did we fight? No. When he got angry, he just wouldn’t speak . . . for days! What blissful silence.

 Am I getting off track? Not really. I needed to explain a bit of background for what I’m about to tell you.

 In the summer of 1973, two of his sister’s children were visiting. Patti was eleven and Kevin was nine.

 Oops, Forgot one little fact, here. I am NOT a witch, although there have been many times when I wish I were. Anyway, back to my story.

 While John was at work, I was left alone with his niece and nephew. I didn’t mind. After all, our own children were seven and five. I organized picnics at the nearby lake; however, I insisted – absolutely NO swimming. Since I was a non-swimmer, being responsible for four children under the age of ten was something I took very seriously.

Anyway! Aside from picnics, we visited a few of the museums that weren’t too far from where I lived. I also made sure they helped me tend to my vegetable garden. The last thing I wanted was four bored kids moaning and groaning that there wasn’t anything to do.

 Realizing this, John wanted to be a good uncle and decided to surprise us with a “game”!

 Okay, another bit of information here. For my entire life, I had been known to have a bit of psychic ability. No, I’m not really psychic but my intuition is usually spot on. I’ve always known things that I shouldn’t have known. But all that is for another story. (Just as a side note: When I was sixteen, I knew the initials of my second husband twenty-nine years before I met him. I wrote those initials down: RDB! I just knew.)

 Knowing this about me, he brought home a Ouija board.

 Of all the cockamamie things to bring home, he brought that! We would have been better if he brought home a chess set.

 I strongly encouraged him to return it.

 “Aw, come on! It’s just a game!”

 “Like hell, it is! Living with me hasn’t taught you anything?”

 “Yeah, you’re a pain in the ass and determined to have your way!”

 “Okay, I’ll prove to you that this thing is alive and knows things it shouldn’t know. I’m going to ask it a question that only the two of us know the answer to. We’ll have Patti and Kevin touch the oracle. Is that okay?”

 He gave me a strange look but agreed.

 I set up the board and had the kids gently place their fingers on the oracle, then I asked: “Mr. Ouija, what is John’s badge number at his job?”

 The oracle slowly but surely began to move around board.

 Suddenly, it began to jerk in the direction of the numbers.

 Then it slowed.

 Once again, it jerked but periodically as it landed on each number: 78991.

 John was stunned.

 “How did you do that?”

 “Are you for real? Did I touch that damn board? All I did was ask a question. I told you, this thing is dangerous!”

 “Ask one more question.”

 “Okay. First, I’ll write down the answer since I know you have no idea.”

 I handed him the piece of paper, then I asked, “Mr. Ouija. On my mother’s side of the family, what was Margaret’s husband’s name?”

 John asked, “Who’s that?”

 “My great-grandfather,” I replied.

 Ouija spelled out, “Tom Waters.”

 Then something happened that terrified everyone.

 The oracle began to pull their hands in random movements, until it finally spelled out, “Thank you for opening this window. Now I have a new place to live.” And as the oracle stopped, the kitchen cabinet door flew open and as plates began flying across the room, we heard the echo of a loud menacing laugh.

 **

 I know most who read this won’t believe me.

 I lived through this nightmare for twenty-eight years and I still find it hard to believe.

 But honestly? It’s all true – and this was just the beginning.