Page 86 of Living with Death

“If you wish to know about this aisle, I can tell you. You don’t need to call out to restless souls.”

“If anyone is there, please state your name,” Sam says, looking at me.

“We come in peace,” I throw in with a drunken smile. The candle's light causes her eyeshadow to glitter like diamonds. I remove my hand and give her the wine bottle. She takes a big gulp and wipes the back of her mouth with her sleeve.

“We have to keep our hands on it. Be serious,” she scolds.

I snort. “Okay, okay.” I fold my lips.

Sam straightens her back, clearing her throat, and we return our hands. The heater kicks on in the store, and the candles flicker.

“Please, if anyone is here, we’d like to know your story.”

I smirk, but the planchette begins moving, and our eyes jerk down.

The first letter is B. Then it jolts to an E before shooting to the N.

“Ben?” Sam questions.

Our hands slide to the R, then over to the O, S. Gliding to the E and the Y.

“Rosey?” I ask.

“Ben and Rosey,” Sam says, looking peculiarly at the board. A box falls behind me, and we both jump.

I laugh. “You’re doing this.”

“I thought it was you,” she says.

I narrow my eyes when it begins moving again. More names are spelled out. Shane, Piper, Maurice. Danny, Dax, Ron, and Sophia.

“What the hell, Sam?”

“It’s not me.”

The lights flicker toward the front of the store, and her eyes widen. The planchette flies across the board, and we both remove our hands. It spells name after name. A can of icing falls and a few more boxes.

The lights go out, and things launch off the shelf.

“Um, Sam.” Our eyes meet. “We need to go.”

“I agree,” she says. We both jump up, leaving everything on the floor. I look back, seeing the planchette still flying around the board.

I pull my phone out and put the flashlight on. “I gotta do the code,” I say, hearing things fall from the shelf of aisle five.

“Fuck the code,” Sam says, walking to the door.

The shelves begin to shake. We both bolt out the door, Sam turns to lock it, and we move back from the store’s windows as they start to rattle vigorously.

And then one breaks.

Sam screams, and we cover our faces as the other windows shatter.

“Oh my God.” I remove my hands, looking at the broken glass at our feet before looking at Sam.

“Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea after all.”

Eyes wide, I stare at the damage done. I feel my feet backing up on their own. “Let’s go,” I say to Sam. “You can stay at my house.”

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