13. Spirit

            Sandra stepped outside expectantly on Hallows E’en.  She pulled her spider web cape close around her.  And nothing happened. There was no magic, no sorcery, and no sign of a spell.  Just fog.

          She couldn’t understand it.  She had followed all the instructions – whispered an incantation over a flickering candle flame, collected herbs and sprinkled them under the dusty miller plants in her back yard during the most recent full moon.  She’d even danced with a white scarf in the attic.  She’d done everything the little square book in the library had said to do.  To beckon a ghost. 

Sandra walked along the pathway.  The fog was misty and swirled delicately.  Her friend Jack appeared at the hedge, dressed all in black. 

“It didn’t work.”

“Give it a chance.  We just got outside,” said Jack confidently.  He kicked at some of the fog, as it seemed to drift in patches in front of them. 

Slightly encouraged she said, “Here, let’s complete the final step.”

She handed him a miniature sugar cube.

“A sugar cube?”

“It’s something white.  It was that or a slice of bread.”

They ate their sweets.  Walking along, it was harder to see through the thick mist.  Turning the corner, they saw their destination.  An old white wooden church with a pointed spire and scalloped shingles waited for them.  It seemed to be part of the fog, white in white.  And the ancient little churchyard, with a scattering of crooked limestone headstones. 

They walked over to the most ancient of the markers.  They placed their fingertips on its top edge.  Nothing.  Just fog.

By this time they had been out in it long enough to notice mist making their hair and clothes damp. Time to admit defeat and go to the horror fest at the New Community Cinema. 

The fog swirled around them, brushing their faces as they walked.  It had gotten so dense that they could only see a few feet before them.  Finally at the cinema building, they left the fog outside. It looked in at the windows.

All of their efforts had succeeded.  It was just a small error in perspective that prevented Sandra and Jack from seeing their success.  Their intent had been so pure, their belief so strong, and hopes so deep that they hadn’t summoned one ghost.  They’d called them all.

 (391 words)