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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2304061-Cemetery-Sance
Rated: E · Short Story · Friendship · #2304061
A group of friends with a Ouija board in a cemetery...what could go wrong??
         "I'm out," Erik said.
         "Literally," I said with a grin. This was our weekly poker night with a group of LGBT hikers, bicyclists, and generally outdoorsy guys.
         "What've you got?" Pete asked.
         "Why don't you call it and find out?" I replied sassily.
         Pete anted up and put his cards down, "Full house. I gotcha."
         "Oh," I said, "All I've got's a couple of pairs. A pair of queens and a pair of queens."
         "What?" Pete exclaimed.
         "Yes. Four queens."
         "Ironic," Erik sniffed.
         "Ugh," Pete sat back, realizing he'd lost the hand. He sat back up, "Oh! We almost forgot. We got you a birthday present, Jason."
         "Oh, you didn't have to do that," I replied, raking in my winnings.
         "We wanted to," Erik said, pulling a gift-wrapped box out of a shopping bag near his feet.
         "I wonder what it is," I said as I took the gift and shook it.
         "Why don't you open it and find out?" Ryan said grinning like the cat that ate the canary, "It's for all of us to enjoy together later."
         My eyebrows knit together, "Should I be afraid?"
         "Terrified," Erik replied, laughing, "Perhaps even a bit stupefied."
         I opened it to reveal a Ouija board.
         "Well, isn't this something," I said, then laughed, "What're you three nitwits up to?"
         With a twinkle in his eye, Pete said, "Do you remember that story you told us last week about the guy whose family was forcing him to marry a young girl and he didn't want to and so he arranged to have her killed, only he got caught and her family killed him and now he haunts the cemetery where they hung him and buried him?"
         "Yes. It was something random I saw on Facebook."
         "Well, I thought you were full of it, so I googled it after and it turns out, it was for real. It happened 150 years ago today just about 50 miles from here." Erik explained.
         "You're serious?"
         "Yes. She was 16. He was a 35-year-old confirmed bachelor," Erik said with big air quotes, "You know what that was code for."
         "He wasn't the marrying kind," I said, trotting out another old-fashioned euphemism.
         "Exactly." Erik replied.
         I tried and failed to stifle a smile at how dumb this sounded. "So, you think this guy was gay and didn't want to marry a woman, so he arranged to have her killed?"
         "Bingo," Ryan said, "That's exactly what we think."
         "Tonight," Erik said, wagging his eyebrows, "We're taking this Ouija board to the cemetery to find out. He might not tell a psychic or a police detective, but he might fess up to us."
         "That is the most idiotic thing I've ever heard," I laughed.
         "But you're in," Erik said as a statement, not a question.
         "To watch the three of you scaring yourselves and each other half to death in a cemetery at night? Hell yeah, I'm in. I'll drive."
         After the game, we piled into my car and drove to the cemetery. We turned off the main highway onto a dirt road that carved a narrow path through a dense forest, with the trees so close to the road I was worried about my sideview mirrors.
         The four of us couldn't have designed a more perfect setting. It was unquestionably the creepiest cemetery I'd ever seen. Large oak trees with willowy wisps of Spanish moss drooping down and old, weather-worn headstones. Some were basic while others were elaborate stones carved into angels, flowers, religious symbols, and other things.
         Erik got a flashlight out of his leather messenger bag and slung the bag over his shoulder. He clicked on the light, sweeping the beam across the ghoulish scene.
         "His name was Jeremiah Miller." Pete said.
         It took us a while, but we found the grave. Erik pulled a large picnic blanket out of his bag and spread it on the ground. He then fished out a wide pillar candle and set it in the center.          
         "Did you forget to invite a virgin to light the black flame candle like in Hocus Pocus?" I quipped with a nervous edge in my voice.
         "Virgin? Pfft," Erik scoffed, "I don't know any and neither do you. I'm going to light the candle while you set up the board."
         Once we were set up, the four of us gathered around with flickering candlelight illuminating the Ouija board, our faces, and the headstones around us.
         Erik cleared his throat, "We summon the ghost of Jeremiah Miller. Are you there, Jeremiah?"
         Nothing but crickets on that warm summer evening.
         "Jeremiah?" Erik repeated.
         A light breeze rustled through the trees.
         "Jeremiah?"
         An apparition appeared. We must have looked mortified with wild-eyed panic.
         "Who dares disturb me?" The apparition demanded.
         "Erik Sunderland." Erik stammered, "These are my friends. We mean you no harm. Are you Jeremiah?"
         The apparition nodded.
         Erik swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of himself, "We just want to know why you wanted to kill her."
         Jeremiah's shoulders slumped, "I didn't."
         "What?" Erik said.
         "She didn't want to marry me. She accused me of trying to strangle her. Her brother got a lynch mob together. I was here in the cemetery visiting my grandmother's grave when they snuck up on me."
         "You didn't try to murder her?"
         "No! I couldn't hurt a mouse, let alone a human."
         Our jaws slackened and our mouths hung open.
         "Why didn't she want to marry you?"
         "She knew something about me." Jeremiah said, looking at the ground.
         Our eyebrows scrunched. I spoke up, "You mean...let's just say, you preferred the physical comforts of other men. You can tell us. We're the same way."
         "Yes. But that doesn't matter. I was still going to do the honorable thing and marry her. I didn't think I had a choice. It was all arranged by our parents."
         "How do you know she did it?" I asked.
         "She came to my grave a few weeks later and confessed."
         "But she never told anyone else?"
         "No. She was at peace, apparently, but I wasn't."
         "And now?" Erik asked.
         "Yes. Having anyone besides her know the truth is enough. I can go in peace now."
         He disappeared, leaving us alone in the candlelit cemetery. We left in somber silence, knowing we had done a good deed. A restless spirit was now at peace because of us.
         Once in the safety of my car, Pete spoke, "Just call us the Ghostbusters."
         With a relieved chuckle, we drove home in pensive silence.

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