Jeg planlægger at deltage i NaNoWriMo i år, og for at varme lidt op, så prøvede jeg i går aftes lige at strikke en lille historie sammen, for at se hvad jeg kunne nå på en time. En slags PiCoWriHo.

So without further ado:

“Ahh, there you are. Do come in dear. So glad you could make the time. I’m sure a young girl like you has plenty of things to do.”

Sarah had been cleaning for Mrs. Agathon for at couple of months now, but this was the first time she had visited in the evening. Actually ‘cleaning’ was overstating it at bit, since the old lady seemed to keep to whole house quite tidy all by herself, and the vacuuming and dusting that Sarah was asked to do was mostly symbolic in nature. The real reason she had been hired, was probably just to provide a bit of company. Which was also why Sarah had agreed to come by this evening - it seemed like the least she could do.

“I’ve made some tea, so just help yourself dear; you know where the milk and sugar is. I just need you get a few things.” Mrs. Agathon waved absentmindedly at the coffee table in the parlor, as she went slowly but determinedly up the stairs. Sarah knew that Mrs. Agathon wasn’t the least bit decrepit, but sometimes she liked making a show of it anyway. One of the privileges of getting old she said.

Before making herself comfortable, Sarah did as instructed and found the milk and sugar. Neither she nor Mrs. Agathon used milk or sugar, but Mrs. Agathon liked her tea table complete, and besides Cleopatra might honor them with his presence (the cat had been named before a proper inspection had been made, and now the name stuck) and want a saucer of milk. Sarah had just finished arranging everything, when Mrs. Agathon came down with a dusty box.

“A Ouija board!?!” Sarah was surprised to say the least. Parlor games didn’t exacly fit her image of the old lady - though she had to admit she was sitting in a very nice parlor. “Yes dear. It is used to contact spirits of those who have passed away dear.” “Oh, I know what Ouija board is,” half-mumbled Sarah, “I just hadn’t expected you to be into that sort of thing. Isn’t it just a game for drunken college girls?” Mrs. Agathon smiled: “Oh, no dear. Talking to the departed can be quite useful. Move the cups over will you.”

Still a bit puzzled Sarah cleared space on the coffee table (not that it would have seen coffee - at least not while it had been in this parlor) and Mrs. Agathon arranged the board. It looked old and worn, a bit buckled and stained (probably more tea).

“So who are we … contacting? Your husband?” Despite herself Sarah was getting a bit exited. “John? Oh no. I think he enjoys having a bit of peace and quiet right now, so no need to go and talk his ear off. We’ll be together soon enough, and there is no reason waste already sparse conversation if we are going to fill an eternity together.” Mrs. Agathon smiled “besides, I said useful, not sentimental, dear.”

“Is anybody there?” Sarah’s hands were trembling, and she could more or less convince herself that was the reason the plancette moved unsteadily towards the YES on the board. “Who?” asked Mrs. Agathon, in a voice that indicated she already knew. “T..H..O..M..A” “Thomas Batterson?” “YES”. Sarah was more or less convinced the old lady was having her on, until she noticed only her hands where on the planchette. “Good. You really are very receptive dear. I thought you would be.”

Sarah just sat there stunned, unable to take her hands from the planchette, as Mrs. Agathon unfolded a piece of paper and placed it on the board. The paper had somekind of drawing on it. Gently the old woman placed one of her hands on the planchette and said “Please Thomas - show us where it is.” Sarah felt like a spectator, as her hands spasmed the planchette around the map and finally came to a rest. Only then did Sarah notice that the drawing was a map - a map of Mrs. Agathons house.

“You really are good at this Sarah. Thank you Mr. Batterson, I think that will be all. Have a good evening.” And just like that Sarah felt like herself again. Well, perhaps not quite herself, but at least in control of her own hands. Spooked but still excited she asked “What is it? A lost treasure? An old will? What did we find?” “Oh no dear, nothing so exiting I’m afraid. This is an old house, and like me it is starting to show. I’m afraid the piping has sprung a leak somewhere, and since Thomas was the plumber who installed it way back when, I figured he would know where it was. More tea? You probably need to get your strength back after all this.”