DARK SECRET OF THE OUIJA
CHAPTER 4
All the way home, Jenny's thoughts and emotions swirled in one big mess. The winter wind whipped against her face, but its sting was nothing compared to the pain inside her. Could the Ouija board be right? Or did its horrible message come from her own mind? "Dad drunk," it had spelled out. "Dad killed other person."
It had to be a lie. But where did that answer come from? Her own mind? Did she secretly hate her father? Was the Ouija board giving her a reason to hate him openly?
Or did Carol create that message? The planchette moved when Carol was the only one touching it. But why would her best friend want to hurt her by destroying her love for her dad?
Was it possible the answer came from Jesus? Could that be how He was answering her prayers?
No! The Ouija board couldn't have spoken the truth! Her dad was good and kind and loving. He was not some irresponsible drunk. He was not someone who would kill himself and leave his family fatherless. And he most certainly would never have done anything to kill someone else.
Jenny ran up the driveway to her small split-level, red house. She charged through the door and searched for her mother. Surely she'd be home from work by now. Jenny found her on the old, brown living room sofa, her sewing box open beside her. She looked up from the clothes she was mending when Jenny came in. Jenny studied her thin face that was crowned by curly, greying hair. "Mom," Jenny said, standing across the room with her hands on her hips. "I have to know the truth about Dad."
Mrs. Seker watched her daughter for a long minute, then sighed. "Take off your coat and come sit beside me," she said.
"You'll tell me everything?"
Mrs. Seker looked down at the needle. "I've told you what's important."
Jenny dumped her coat on the armchair and sat at the opposite end of the sofa. "But what about the things Uncle Jack and the other relatives say?"
Mrs. Seker shook her head. "Don't let them ruin your memories of your father."
"Are they true?"
Mrs. Seker dropped the mending into her lap. "It's been several years since the accident. Isn't it time you stopped being so obsessed about it and moved on with your life? That's what your father would want."
"But I want to know the truth. Was Dad killed because he was driving drunk?" Jenny watched her mother fidget with the spools of thread in the sewing box. "And did he—did he kill someone else?"
Mrs. Seker gasped and stared at Jenny. "How did you find that out?"
Jenny stood up, her face turning red. "Then it's true?"
"I don't want you to remember your father that way."
"It's true? He caused the accident? And he took someone else's life?" Jenny backed away.
"Where did you hear that?" Mrs. Seker put aside the mending and moved toward her daughter. "Did Uncle Jack tell you?" The expression on her face turned to anger.
"No, Mom, it wasn't him. It was Carol's Ouija board."
Surprised, Mrs. Seker exclaimed, "Sadie was right. That game is evil."
"It's not evil. It told me the truth—something you wouldn't do."
"Jenny! I was only trying to protect you. It's better that you remember your father for the loving man he was, not for the problem he had."
"Loving! Hah! If he really loved us, he wouldn't have killed himself."
"He had a problem. None of us is perfect."
"Why didn't he get help? Didn't he care about what his drinking might do to us?" Tears burned Jenny's eyes. Her mother reached out to touch her arm. Jenny pulled away.
"He loved you very, very much, Jenny. He loved all of us. That's what you have to remember."
"Quit defending him, Mom. If he was drunk all the time, he was evil!"
"He was not drunk all the time. And he certainly was not evil. Stop talking this way. If anything's evil, it's that Ouija board. Look what it's done to you," Mrs. Seker said.
"It told me the truth! And I'm glad I finally know it," Jenny yelled. "You've lied to me all these years."
Mrs. Seker stepped toward her daughter, opening her arms, about to reply.
Jenny jumped backward. "I hate Dad for dying that way, and I hate you for lying to me." Jenny spun around and ran for the stairs. "I don't know how the Ouija board knew the truth, but at least it told me the truth. That's not evil!" She stumbled up the stairs and into her bedroom.
Samantha was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling. The book she'd been reading had fallen to the floor.
"You heard?" Jenny asked.
Samantha nodded. "You were shouting loud enough."
"Can you believe what Dad did?"
Samantha just shrugged.
"You don't look very upset about it," Jenny said.
Samantha sat up. "I agree with Mom."
Jenny glared at her sister. "About what?" she snapped.
"The best thing to remember is that he loved us."
"He loved us? You're so naive. Look what he did to us."
"Are you forgetting all the good things he did? I hardly remember them, because I was only six when he died. But you've told me lots of stories about how wonderful he was."
"I was wrong."
"Do you remember him being drunk around us?" Samantha asked.
"No. He must've hidden it well."
"He never beat us," Samantha said. "He played games with us. He prayed with us at bedtime and read to us. Remember?"
"You just don't want to look at the truth, do you?" Jenny stated.
"You don't."
"Hah! You're just siding with Mom to stay on her good side. I don't care what you think, anyway. Nobody around here wants to face the truth, except me, and nobody cares how I feel about it."
Samantha leaned over the side of her bed to pick up her book. "You're not being fair, Jenny."
"Oh, get out of here and leave me alone."
"You can't chase me out. It's my room, too!"
"We would have separate rooms if Dad hadn't killed himself. He forced us to move into this tiny house because it's all Mom can afford. Now get out! I need to be by myself."
Samantha hopped off her bed. "I'll get out, all right, but not because you want me to. I'm leaving because I can't stand being near you."
Jenny shut the door on the heels of her sister. "Twerp," she muttered. Then she looked around the room. Empty. Alone again.
Her eyes fell on the photo of her dad. "Quit smiling!" she said to it. "That smile is hiding evil." She moved closer to her dresser. "How could you be so, so irresponsible? So murderous! And how could I be so wrong about you? I hate you! I'll never forgive you for what you've done!"
She snatched the portrait and threw it across the room. She heard it smash against the wall, but she couldn't see the damage through her hot tears. She flopped down on her bed and cried into her pillow.
"I wish I had never touched that Ouija board," she sobbed.