Waiting Spirits Read Free Page A

But she was not looking at Lisa. Her eyes were focused on the paper beneath her hand.
    Lisa looked down. Underneath her fingers was a set of intricate curlicues, tight and impossibly precise, more ornate than she could have ever made with her eyes open. They formed a frame around the edge of the paper.
    In the center, in large, formal letters, was the message
    WELCOME HOME!
    Lisa shivered. She knew those words had not come from her. They represented the last thing in the world she felt about this place.
    Before she could speak the lights came on. Almost immediately they went off again. It happened three times. Then there was a loud snap and the lights went out and stayed out. Dr. Miles tried the lamp standing next to her. It didn’t work. “Obviously a farewell gesture from our visitor,” she said, attempting a laugh.
    â€œVisitor?” cried Lisa. “Gramma, what was going on here? Was I in contact with a spirit?”
    â€œA ghost?” asked Carrie eagerly.
    â€œMother?” Mrs. Burton’s voice was soft and worried.
    Before Dr. Miles could speak her son-in-law appeared on the stairwell. “What is going on down there?” he bellowed. “Carrie, have you been playing with the switches again?”
    â€œIt wasn’t me!” cried Carrie, her voice full of indignation.
    â€œI imagine it was the storm, Martin,” said Mrs. Burton soothingly, her voice far calmer than Lisa would have thought possible under the circumstances.
    As if to reinforce her point, lightning flickered outside, followed closely by a massive crash of thunder. Judith Burton smiled at her husband.
    â€œWell, all that yelling wasn’t caused by the storm,” he said sharply. “Could you please keep it down? I can’t concentrate with all this going on.”
    â€œI’m sorry, dear,” said Mrs. Burton. “I think we’ll go shopping—get out of your hair.”
    â€œThe price of silence,” said Mr. Burton, grumping as he always did when the subject of money came up. Lisa didn’t take it too seriously; she had figured out long ago that it was a role he played. Muttering to himself, he stomped back up the stairs and headed for the room he was using for his office.
    â€œNice work, Mom,” said Carrie.
    â€œHush!” said Mrs. Burton. “Lisa, are you all right?”
    Lisa stopped to think. She hadn’t had time to consider her condition since she had opened her eyes. “I guess so,” she said. “A little shaky, maybe. What happened?”
    â€œYou tapped into the world beyond,” said Carrie, trying—without much success—to make her high, piping voice sound spooky.
    â€œCarrie,” snapped Dr. Miles. “Don’t be absurd.”
    â€œWell, how do you explain it?” asked Carrie.
    Dr. Miles looked uncomfortable. “Well, there is a distinct possibility that Lisa was having a little joke at our expense—”
    â€œI was not!” said Lisa indignantly.
    Her grandmother raised her hands in a placating gesture. “I’m just trying to be scientific here, Lisa. The next most likely possibility is that your subconscious mind took over. That is the ultimate answer in most psychic phenomena. When you create the right mood, part of your brain—the part that dreams—can take control and do things you are not aware of. There’s been quite a bit written about it.”
    Lisa felt a little tingle of fear. Not because of what her grandmother said, but because it was clear that the old woman was lying. Lisa could read it in her eyes, her voice, and she found it far scarier than what had just happened with the automatic writing. What was her grandmother hiding?”
    â€œOkay, if the message came from Lisa’s dream brain, then what did it mean?” asked Carrie.
    â€œIt was probably sarcastic, reflecting Lisa’s unhappiness at being here,” said Dr. Miles.
    Lisa was about to object, but