From beyond

Maggie peered up at the crumbly terraced house that was to be her new home and sighed. It was a world away, both in size and in distance, from the leafy detached house her parents used to live in.
"I know it's not much," her mum said as she stroked Maggie's hair. "But this is all that Grammy and me can afford right now."
Maggie gave her grandmother a weak smile. She held her hand out to her and led her up the overgrown path to the wooden front door. Its bottle green paint was cracked and peeling, revealing the mucky brown colour it used to be underneath. It hadn't aged well. It was the sign of things to come.
Inside the house the wallpaper was peeling and curling up at the edges; black mould from the damp was seeping through the corner of every wall; the floorboards were loose and uneven; and the air stank like wet earth and mouldy fruit. Maggie's heart sank. She wanted to cry but the brave, strong, determined front her mother was putting up stayed her tears. If mum won't cry then I won't either, she thought.
"All it needs is a bit of a clean, some fresh air and a lick of paint," her mum said. "Right Grammy?"
Maggie's grandmother smiled and nodded and looked down at Maggie. "You'd better go on upstairs and choose your room. You get first pick you know."
Maggie climbed the bare, dusty stairs that curved round to the upper landing and four closed doors. One opened into the bathroom, which was definitely going to need some cleaning given the amount of spider webs that hung in great sheets from the ceiling. The other three were empty except for a small wardrobe in the back bedroom. That was the room she chose. She knelt on the floor and admired the little wardrobe. It was no taller than her and intricately carved with galloping horses round the edges and dolphins diving over the polished brass knobs. Maggie was curious to know why anyone would leave such a thing but far more to curious to know what was inside, so she opened it up. On the bottom shelf, covered in so much dust it obscured the wording, was a flat box.
Maggie pulled it out and swept a hand across the cover.
'Olivera's Ouija' it said.
"Olivera's Oh-you-e-ja," said Maggie.
She lifted the lid off the box and inside was a board with letters across the middle and numbers across the top, and a pointed block of black wood. Nothing else.
"No instructions?" said Maggie, lifting up the box to see if anything was written on the underside. The box was plain and red.
Maggie ran downstairs with it in her hands and almost collided with her mum carrying a box of kitchen things in through the front door. "Mum, look what I've found."
"Oh, Maggie, sweetheart, watch where you're going. What is it? What've you got?"
"That's just what I want to know. It looks like a game."
"It's just a Ouija board," replied her mum.
"Wee-ja. So that's how you say it. How do I play it?" she asked, following her mum into the kitchen.
"You ask it questions and it gives you answers," her mother replied hurriedly as she ferreted inside the box and mumbled to herself. "Did I pack the cheese grater? Where's the cheese grater?"
"What should I ask it?" Maggie asked.
Her mother wasn't listening. "Mum, is the cheese grater in any of those boxes in the lounge?" she yelled before looking over to Maggie. "What did you say?"
"Nothing," Maggie replied, sullenly, realising that she was getting in the way, and carried her Ouija out into the garden.
Perching herself on the low brick wall that bordered a bed of voraciously growing weeds she laid the board on the rough grass in front of her, placed the pointer on top and stared at them.
"Who answers the questions anyway?" she asked, holding her hands up in confusion.
The pointer quivered and started to move, so slowly it was barely visible. It startled Maggie so much she fell back over the wall and into the weeds. The pointer moved to the letter L, then E, then T, then T again, then Y and stopped. 'Letty' it spelt out.
Maggie stood up and stared around her, wondering what or who was making it move. She swept a hand through the air over and around the board to see if there were any strings. But there was nothing and no-one around.
She asked another question. "Who are you?"
The pointer spelt out the word, "Grandmother".
"You're not my grandmother. She's inside helping mum. Who are you?" Maggie asked impatiently.
The pointer spelt out the letters again. "Great Grandmother"
"Do you know who I am?"
"Margaret," it spelt. Nobody ever called Maggie, Margaret. Not even her mother.
"How old am I?"
"Eleven."
Maggie tapped her lips with a finger and narrowed her eyes. "I've never heard of a Great Grandmother called Letty," she said with a sceptical curl of her lip. "What do you want?"
"To warn you."
"About what?" Maggie asked.
"Leave."
"Don't be silly. We've just got here. We can't leave. Mum says this place is all we can afford."
"Leave. Friday." was the last thing Letty spelt out.
Maggie tried to summon her back to get her to explain, but there was no answer.
She shoved the board and the pointer back in the box. "Stupid thing," she mumbled.

That evening, Maggie, her mother and grandmother settled down in the lounge with an oven baked pepperoni pizza shared out between them.
"Sorry about the burnt bits," her mum said as she placed the tray of pizza on the coffee table. "I think something's wrong with the oven."
"That's okay, mum," Maggie said, diving for the biggest slice.
"So did you play with that Ouija board you found then, whilst your grandmother and I slaved away clean this place up?"
Maggie ignored the sarcasm. "Yep."
"Maggie found a Ouija board upstairs, mum?" her mother said as she picked the black olives off her pizza slice.
"Those things are dangerous, Catherine," her grandmother said. "You should have thrown it out."
"That stuff about people being possessed is just a bunch of superstitious claptrap. Ouija boards don't work."
"The one I found does," Maggie said boldly. "I asked it who it was and it told me."
Maggie's mother choked on her pizza as she laughed.
"Maggie," her mother said, wiping a napkin across her mouth, "moving the piece round the board doesn't mean it works."
"I didn't move the pointer, it moved itself".
Her mother raised her eyebrows.
"I didn't," Maggie pleaded. "It did it. It said it was my Great Grandmother Letty."
As soon as she mentioned the name Maggie's grandmother dropped her plate. It clattered on the wooden floor. Maggie's mum leapt to her aide and picked up the remains of pizza crust.
Although it was only brief Maggie was sure she saw a flicker of recognition across her grandmother's face; a twitch of her lips and a momentary widening of her eyes.
"Do you know who that is, Grammy?" asked Maggie.
"Who who is dear?" her grandmother asked, trying to make out she was flustered.
"Letty," Maggie confirmed.
Her grandmother shook her head. "I haven't a clue. You'd best not use that thing anymore, Letty. I mean Maggie. Catherine take it off her please, she's too young to be playing with such games."


Fortunately for Maggie a heated telephone conversation between her parents that had gone on for most the evening after dinner distracted both her mum and grandmother long enough for Maggie to sneak the board out of the lounge and up to her bedroom.
All night she lay awake under the covers on her camp bed, with the Ouija board beside her. When her mother checked on her for the last time before going to bed herself that was when Maggie sat up and began to play with the board again.
It didn't take long for Letty to appear.
Maggie was delighted. But there was only one question pressing on her mind to ask Letty.
"Are you my grammy's mum?" she whispered.
The pointer moved up towards the 'Yes' and 'No' words then drifted to the left. "Yes" was the answer.
"Why didn't grammy say so when I asked her?" said Maggie.
The pointer moved to H, A, T, and then E. Hate.
"But why?"
Letty spelt out the words. "My fault."
"What did you do?" Maggie asked.
"Ask Grammy," was the reply.
"But how can I ask her when she won't even admit that she knows you?"
"Tell her I kept Bobo."
"Who's Bobo?"
"Bear."
Maggie sighed, and pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. Whatever happened Letty was clearly regretful about it. But was she still around to make amends?
"Perhaps I can help you be friends again?" Maggie asked.
"No time. Must leave. Danger," spelt the pointer.
"Danger," Maggie gasped. "What kind of danger?"
"Friday. All. Leave."
Maggie pressed Letty again for more information but Letty was silent. If the abrupt replies weren't enough to sent shivers down Maggie's back the fact that Letty said nothing else terrified her. All she thought about all night was this 'danger' and what it could be.

At breakfast the next morning Maggie was so tired she couldn't stop yawning.
"Did you sleep last night?" her mother enquired.
"A little," Maggie lied as she chomped on a piece of buttered toast. After the warning she'd received there was little hope of her getting any sleep. The thought of it chilled her still.
"Well, it'll take some time to get used to a sleeping in a new place."
Maggie wondered if their 'new place' was in some way connected to this danger Letty was warning her of. And perhaps the warning was in some way connected to why Letty was communicating with her.
Before she had even thought it through the question spewed from her lips. "Do you remember Bobo, Grammy?"
Her grandmother abruptly stopped mid slurp of her tea. As she lowered her cup Maggie saw her hand trembling. She wasn't sure if it was from rage or fear.
"Where did you hear that, dear?" her grandmother tried to ask in as calm a tone as possible.
Maggie looked over at her mother and then at her grandmother. "From Letty. She told me to tell you she kept Bobo." she said sheepishly.
"I thought I told you not to use that," scolded her grandmother.
"No, mum, it's my fault. I forgot to take it offer her. I was so rattled after that argument with David it completely skipped my mind," said her mum. "I'll take it off her now."
With her mother out of the room, Maggie, put the question again to her grandmother. She was determined to get to the bottom of it.
"You are as stubborn as your father!" said her grandmother as she dumped her breakfast bowl and cup in the sink. "Bobo was my teddy bear when I was very young. I loved that bear, even though he only had one eye. He represented a happy time in my life," she began. "I wasn't aware of it but my mother was very young when she had me. Eighteen years old. And even though she raised me till I was five, she realised that I was a burden to her. She wanted a carefree life not one tied down to child rearing. So she off loaded me onto her parents. Before I left the flat I was living in with her I decided to sever my bond with Bobo. He was part of that life, not the one I was about to embark on. Do you understand?"
Maggie nodded. She felt exactly the same about her ragdoll, Mildred. She was in a box at her dad's house. They had literally been joined at the hip from the moment Maggie was born. The two Ms, her mum and dad called them. But somehow Mildred didn't belong in a world where her mum and dad weren't in the same house.
"I think Letty's sad, Grammy," said Maggie.
Her grandmother didn't respond.
"I think she's sorry. She's trying to warn us. I think something is going to happen on Friday. She wants us to leave."
"Who wants us to leave where?" said her mother as she strode in with the Ouija board in her hands.
"Your daughter's spirit friend, thinks we're in danger tomorrow," mocked her grandmother.
"In danger from what?"
Maggie shrugged her shoulders. "She wouldn't say."
"Not much of a warning then is it," said her grandmother as she snatched the Ouija box from her mothers hands, marched into the garden and promptly thrust it into the bin.
Maggie felt her stomach knot up inside her. She didn't like the idea of Letty being in that bin.
"She doesn't need to throw it out. I promise I won't use it again," she pleaded.
"Too late I'm afraid."
"Can we at least maybe go out tomorrow? Maybe we could go to a bed and breakfast, like a holiday," suggested Maggie.
"Maggie if we had that kind of money don't you think we'd be living somewhere better than here?" her mother said. At that moment the cooker made a loud popping sound, followed by a soft hiss.
"But she said something bad is going to happen tomorrow," Maggie wailed.
"Maggie, enough," snapped her mother. "There's no Letty. There's no ghosts. There's no danger. Now quit this whining. I've got enough on my plate right now."
Maggie huffed and stormed into the lounge. She threw herself heavily into the armchair and stared out of the window. There seemed to be no convincing them of what she believed. She'd have to lure them out of the house. But what would get both of them out for a long time that didn't involve spending money.
That night she racked her brains to come up with an answer and just as dawn broke and the early birds began to churp the idea struck her. It wasn't a particularly nice idea, but hopefully, if Letty was telling the truth as she believed, it would be worth it.
She climbed out of bed, careful not to make any noise, grabbed her rucksack and stuffed it with a change of clothes. Then tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen. She pulled open the larder cupboard and took a packet of biscuits, a bottle of water, a couple of apples and a lump of cheese. She had her supplies, now she needed to sort out the rest of her plan.
From the lounge Maggie picked up the street plan of the town from the magazine rack and grabbed a red marker pen. She then drew little circles on key places on the map; the school, the hospital, the park, the library and her dad's house and laid it out on the kitchen table. As she did she caught sight of the dustbin though the backdoor. She had to rescue Letty.
With her Ouija under her arm and her rucksack slung across her back she headed out of the house and in the direction of the last place her mother would look for her on that street map; her dad's house. Maggie knew her mum hated to admit failure, even more so to her dad.

It was early evening when there was finally a heavy rap at her dad's front door. Maggie sat up with a start.
"David, are you in there?" her mother said, shakily. "We need to talk."
Maggie's dad wasn't in. He was working late, again. Maggie managed to get in through the patio doors that were never locked-another issue that was regularly argued over-and rooted herself in her dad's study.
Maggie knew she had to answer the door, but suddenly felt wracked with guilt. Her mother was probably terrified, panic-stricken, upset at the fact that Maggie had disappeared. How could she have done it? A lone tear rolled over her eye and down a cheek as she reached for the door knob and turned it.
There on the threshold was the worn out face of her mother staring down at her. A flood of relief swept over her as she scooped Maggie up into her arms.
"Sorry mum," Maggie cried.
"I'm sorry too," whimpered her mother as she clutched Maggie tighter to her breast. "I didn't mean to shout."
"Where's Grammy?" Maggie asked wiping the tears from her eyes.
"She's in the car."
Maggie looked over her shoulder and saw her grandmother with a beaming smile on her face shuffling down the driveway.
"Alls well that ends well, as they say," said her grandmother.
On the drive home her mum suggested that maybe they could go for a picnic on Saturday. "The weather's supposed to be nice. Grammy and I could pack some nice food and we could do down to the river."
"I'd like that," Maggie said with a smile.
But as they turned the corner into Mercy Street they were met with a sight that chilled Maggie to her very core. The hairs on the back of her neck stood proud, her spine tingled and her heart started thumping in her chest. There were police and fire engines everywhere. Blue, red and lights were flashing, sirens were wailing, people were flooding the streets curious to know what had happened.
As her mum inched the car through the crowds of onlookers the police signalled for them to stop.
"'fraid you can't go any further, love," said one of the policeman through the window. "We're about to evacuate the whole street."
"What happened?" her mother asked.
"We don't know exactly yet. But there was an explosion at number 21."
Maggie lurched forward in her seat so abruptly her seatbelt jerked her back, cutting into her shoulder.
"That's our house. That's our house," she bellowed.
The policeman gasped at her and her mother. "You live at number 21? You'd better pull up. The super would like to speak to you. You're lucky to be alive."
Maggie was speechless and when she got out of the car, with her mother, and saw gap in the row of terraced houses, where their house used to be, she started to cry. Her mother cried too. Their house was no nothing more than a pile of dusty bricks.
"We're okay though," her mother said through her tears.
"Thanks to my mother," said her grandmother.

Maggie looked up at her and saw a gentle smile on her grandmother's face and a warmth in her eyes that Maggie had never seen before. She was looking up into the sky. Maggie clearly made her grandmother mouth the word-Bobo.