When I was nine, I stayed with my Aunt Tabitha for the summer. I didn’t understand why at the time. She was a nice enough lady, and I liked her with that vaguely nervous affection that children reserve for relatives they’re familiar with but don’t see often enough to truly be at ease. But my parents had never left me with her. In fact, I’d never been alone with her at all, I don’t think.
When my mother gave me a hurried hug and kiss goodbye before darting back into the car like a startled bird, I felt my stomach tighten. Something was wrong. Not just leaving me with her younger, quirky sister, but something else. I’d asked her on the trip out to Tabitha’s what was going on, but she’d brushed it off with a harried sigh, saying that her and Daddy just needed some time on their own, and it was high time I got to know my aunt better.
I found out years later that my father was checking himself into a 90-day rehab center. Not by choice really, but because Mom told him she was leaving him if he didn’t. The rehab worked…for awhile, at least. They wound up not getting divorced until my senior year of high school.
But at the time, I was just left on Tabitha’s front porch, her lean, tan arm draped casually across my shoulders, the thick bracelets she always wore digging into my neck as she waved after her sister hard enough to make us both sway a little. She was like that with everything. Fully committed, always enthusiastic. At first it seemed strange, but after some time it became endearing in a way. I couldn’t imagine being around her all the time, but I thought I could handle a few months okay.
Most of that was because she was really sweet. Not in that patronizing, fake way that adults have with children so often—I’ll talk nice to you and give you a toy or an activity and then I won’t feel bad about wishing you weren’t here and trying to ignore you as best I can—No, she felt…real. Genuine. She was having fun having me there and before I knew it, I found myself having a good time too.
We went hiking, watched movies, rode bikes through the small town she lived in…she was almost always home and almost always up for anything, so it was like I had suddenly gotten a cool big sister of my own. Still…even at nine I started wondering why she was home all the time. She wasn’t married, and while her house was nice, I didn’t get the impression she was rich or anything. Finally, after nearly a week of us just hanging out, I asked her what she did for work.
She gave me a small nervous laugh and nodded.
“I wondered when you’d get curious about that.” She grinned at me. “I do have a job, I’ll have you know, though I’m not surprised Kelly hasn’t told you about it.” Her grin drew into a smirk. “Your mom and dad aren’t exactly approving of my line of work.”
Snickering at my widening gaze, she glanced around conspiratorially before leaning forward to whisper across the kitchen table to me. “I’m a fortune teller.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “You mean like at the fair?”
Tabitha’s face drew down in mock disdain. “No, not like that. I’m the real deal. And honestly, I do a lot of stuff. My technical title is “occult spiritualist”, but people around here don’t know what that is and don’t want to. So I just call myself a fortune teller and it works out good for everybody.”
I frowned. “Okaaaay. And people pay you for that?”
She pouted out her lips as she poked me in the ribs. “Hey, I’m actually very good at it. In fact, I have one of my big clients coming into town next week for a special session.” Her face suddenly grew serious. “I’ve been meaning to mention that. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours on Wednesday. But if you can stay in your room while they’re here, it’ll be a big help. Cool?”
I nodded. “Cool.” I wanted to ask more questions. Did she have a crystal ball, did she read palms, did she use those cards like I saw on that t.v. show that time. And what else did she do other than tell fortunes?
In the end, I kept my questions to myself. I didn’t want to bruise this new friendship that was growing between us, and I think I could sense that despite her joking around, she wasn’t that comfortable talking about it with me. I wasn’t sure why, as it sounded pretty cool and interesting to me, but something told me just to leave it alone for the time being. I could ask more some other time.
When Wednesday came, I went up to my room as soon as the first car pulled up—a large grey van with two dour-looking men inside. Tabitha looked in on me a couple of minutes later, favoring me with a big smile and promising that we’d go for ice cream as soon as she was done.
A few minutes later, I heard people coming in downstairs. Tabitha’s large dining room was directly below my own, and I knew that she had spent the morning cleaning it and removing all the furniture except for the long, heavy table in its center. I imagined those people I hadn’t seen, plus the two men I had, clustering around that table doing some kind of séance or something. I wanted to laugh about it, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t quite funny, because it wasn’t quite a joke. I don’t know how I knew that—maybe it was how Tabitha had looked when she talked about it, or how serious she’d become as she prepared, but I knew that whatever they were doing downstairs, they were doing it for real.
When my aunt came to my door half an hour later, at first I thought they’d just gotten done sooner than she’d expected. But then I saw her face. Pale and drawn, she looked at me with nervous eyes that looked on the verge of tears. I went to ask what was wrong, but she shook her head and put a slender finger to her lips. Stepping inside, she shut the door behind her and spoke softly, as though afraid her voice might carry too far.
“Maggie…I…I need to ask you about something. A favor I guess.” She stopped, her eyes widening. “But only if you want to. I…Shit…I’m sorry, I…Look…These people…” Tabitha gave me a weak smile. “They’re having me do this ceremony, see? Something really special and expensive…The guy…I had a guy that was supposed to come. He was unconnected to all this, doesn’t know anything about it. Well, he’s not coming. And this thing…it has to be done right now.” Her eyes darted around, and now she was crying a little. “Shit, kid…I really hate to ask you to do this. But you’re the only one here that isn’t involved, and that’s important for what you’d have to do.”
I was confused and nervous. I didn’t mind trying to help, but she was making me scared with how she was acting. I got that she didn’t want to make those people mad if it was her job, but what if I messed something up? I blurted out that last and she wiped her eyes as she shook her head.
“No, honey. It’s nothing you can mess up. All you’d have to do is put your hand on a little wheel and spin it once. That’s all. But..” her eyes fell from mine. “Your other hand would be on a man’s arm. A man that died awhile ago.” She looked back up at me. “He’s not gross or anything. And you’d only have to touch him while you spun the wheel.” I was just staring at her. I wanted this to be some kind of joke, but I knew it wasn’t. She wasn’t just upset, she was scared.
“Aunt Tabitha…I don’t want to do it. I’m scared.”
She smiled and nodded. “I understand, sweetie. I do. But I’ll be there, and I promise nothing bad will happen. It’ll be over in just a couple of minutes and then they’ll all be gone. I swear.” She watched me for a moment before going on. “Maggie…it’s a lot of money. And I’ll give you as much of it as you want. Get you anything you want, okay? But…these people are important. I can’t have them getting mad at me. You understand?”
And I did. Not so much from the words as from the growing thrum of fear they carried with them. I was starting to understand that Tabitha wasn’t just worried about losing some money. She was terrified and she needed my help.
So I said yes.
There were seven people in the dining room. Eight including me. Nine including the dead man.
Large mirrors had been brought in and hung from each of the four walls and the ceiling, and the perimeter of the room had been lined with interwoven lines red and white—Tabitha whispered to me it was just salt and brick dust as we carefully stepped over it. The two men from the van stood at opposite ends of the table, hands clamped tight at the corners of the wood. They had stripped off their shirts and ties, and in the yellow electric glow of the old candelabra hanging overhead, I could see their skin was painted with strange markings and slick with sweat.
The other four were all older and sharply-dressed—two men and two women, they clustered together like buzzards, murmuring to each other before turning as one when Tabitha led me into the room. One of the women stepped forward.
“Are we ready to go forward? We only have a few minutes left as it is.” Her face was pleasant, but her voice was cold and hard. “As you are aware, we have preserved the body to its limits for today, for right now. If we delay further…well, as we told you, dying has a tendency to give the body over.” She glanced at me and then at my aunt again. “So are we ready?
Tabitha nodded shakily. “Yes…She said she’ll do it.”
One of the men looked at me and sneered. “I don’t like the looks of this at all. We have no idea what this child might intend during the turning.” He shot a dark look at the other woman. “I told you we should have tried to make arrangements with the dollmaker.”
The woman who had spoken first turned briefly to pin the man with a glare. “That is not our way."
Lowering his gaze, he gave a slight nod. “Yes, of course.”
She turned back, giving me a smile as she spoke. “Then quit your whining and get into position. And you, little girl, just keep your mind empty and spin the wheel, okay?” When I nodded woodenly, her gaze shifted to Tabitha. “Everyone in position. Now.”
“Yes, of course.”
Tabitha lightly pulled me over toward the table. I’d avoided looking at the shape laying on it, my eyes roving all around so long as they didn’t have to touch the dead thing there. But now that I did, I saw it wasn’t so bad. It was just a man. He was a bald, bearded man in his underwear, and he was painted up kind of like the men at the ends of the table, but otherwise the body just looked like a normal man taking a nap. I tried to keep that idea in my head as my aunt gently moved my left hand closer and rested it on his arm.
I glanced to my right with a slight jump. There was now a small wheel sitting on the edge of the table. It hadn’t been there before and I had no idea where it had come from. It was all so strange that I started to wonder if I’d fallen asleep and was having an odd dream.
But no. When Tabitha took my hand and placed it on the wheel, I could feel how hard and cold it was. So cold it burned my fingers a little. It was such a strange thing—lines and curves of black wood wove this way and that, spanning out to form a rough circle with an axis of silver at the center. It reminded me of both a prize wheel at the fair and something off the coach of a fairy princess. But then, as I touched it, the four buzzards began to sing. Tabitha began to say words in some language I didn’t understand. And the wheel…
It became full of stars.
All of these points of light opened in the wood, bright shafts of light spilling from them in every direction. I wanted to let go of the wheel—its cold was burning me and the light was so terribly bright. And then the stars began flashing…no, blinking, because they weren’t just stars, they were also eyes, awful, knowing eyes that were looking at me, looking into me, and I just…
“Spin.”
I pulled, and for a moment everything was still except for the bright kaleidoscope of light flashing across the walls, the mirrors, and the cold, cruel faces of the strangers in my aunt’s home. As my one arm felt to my side and Tabitha gently held my other on the dead man’s skin, I forced myself to just keep thinking of the thought that’d come into my head as I spun the wheel.
Soon this would be over and I would be free.
Suddenly, the twirling lights began to dim and then turn a brilliant violet before dying out. And it wasn’t just the star wheel—the room was plunged into utter darkness, despite the fact that the afternoon sun had been visible just moments before. I began to scream, but as soon as I began, I felt a hand clamping around my mouth as I was pulled back to a corner of the room.
Not that it mattered. I wasn’t the only one screaming any more.
That room stay submerged in darkness for…I don’t know how long. I heard screaming and shouting, and at one point I thought I saw a dim flash of green light on the other side of the room, though that might have been a trick of the dark. What wasn’t a trick was the breath I felt on my face as something leaned near. I could feel it, squatted down just inches away. I had time to wonder if it could see me or just smell me sitting there, huddled against my trembling aunt and more scared that I ever knew was possible. That was when it spoke to me in its raspy voice.
”Thank you, child. You have freed me.”
And then it was gone.
A few moments later the room seemed to pass back into the day it had come from. Weakening sunlight came into the room and painted the bodies the thing had left behind. It had killed them all, all but me and Tabitha. I saw enough to know there was no blood, just broken ragdolls, as though a careless child had forgotten to put away his toys. Then Tabitha was covering my eyes and leading me out of the room.
She started calling someone, and at first I thought it was my parents or the police, but it was neither. She’d been told to contact someone in particular if anything went wrong today. When I asked her who it was, she just shook her head before glancing at me.
“I don’t know, Maggie. Someone from where these people were from I think. It’s a town called Empire, far away from here. They…they said for us to leave the house for the next six hours and it would be done. Go get your pjs and toothbrush. We’re staying in a hotel tonight, okay?”
And that’s what we did. We ate dinner at a hamburger place and then watched movies in a room at the town’s one and only hotel. Neither of us talked about it anymore, and I wasn’t surprised when we went back the next day and the house was back to normal, with no sign anything had ever happened there at all.
That night I called my mother and asked to come home. When she protested, Tabitha got on the phone and told her it was for the best. She’d loved having me, but some things had come up. Mom was irritated, but she finally agreed to come get me the next morning. But instead of taking me home, I got shuttled off to my grandparents until the second week of August. Strange as it was, I found myself missing Tabitha quite a bit.
We talked on the phone a couple of times after that, but it was never the same. When she cut off contact with the rest of the family a few months later, I almost told my parents about what had happened when I’d stayed with her, but something held me back. It might have just been that they wouldn’t have believed me. Or the power of some residual loyalty to my aunt from when I’d promised her I’d never tell as she hugged me goodbye. But perhaps I didn’t tell because telling brought it all up again. Made it more real. And more than anything, I wanted to make myself believe my memories were just fragments of some childhood nightmare.
And then last week, I came home to find a dead woman laying in my living room floor.
A bald man with a grey beard squatted beside her, his eyes dancing with unnatural light as he watched me enter the room. I already recognized him before hearing the same voice that had curled against my cheek in the dark all those years ago.
”Hello again, my child.”
I wanted to back up, to run away, but I found I couldn’t move. Or rather, I could, but only forward, as despite my straining, terrified efforts, I was slowly walking closer to the thing and its corpse. It gestured to me, and I fell to my knees beside the body. The man skinned back his lips in what I guessed was a smile and then gestured at the small, black wheel that was now standing beside me. As its flickering eyes locked onto mine, I felt my left hand drift over to the woman’s clammy thigh. Licking its lips, it gave me a small nod before speaking one last time.
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