She asked me to position myself to the right of her, leaving an empty space between us. We were seated around a small and round table with in the middle of it incense burning in a small saucer. Frankly this was giving me a headache and I hated the smell of it all.
“Now Mr. Horn, put your left hand on the table along with the right and I will do the same. My small finger will touch yours and I will call the spirits.” she said.
“Fine, let’s do this.” I said. Both my hands were on the table and she touched my left hand slightly.
“Spirits are you here?” she asked in a loud voice. “Please answer me. I am calling the shadow of Mr. Horn.”
I looked at her intently. She had her eyes closed and was perspiring profusely. She seemed to be working hard but I was having second thoughts about all this. As I was looking at her I saw her sway slowly from left to right and then front-ward and backward. It was a good show she was putting on but of spirits none were seen. I was growing impatient and nudged her slightly with my little finger.
“Well? So far I see nothing, no spirits and especially not my shadow.” I looked at her and was visibly unhappy. Perhaps my face was showing my impatience because she looked at me with alarm.
“Mr. Horn, do not move. The spirits could be frightened by your actions.” she said in a defensive manner.
I resumed my silence. After thirty minutes I had had enough. Nothing was happening. She was still swaying in every directions, as if she was caught in some kind of invisible whirlwind. She did look at me once or twice but rapidly closed her eyes again. Obviously she was not the real thing, especially when she said to me that the shadow had spoken to her and that it would return to me soon. I wanted to believe this but I knew that that could not be. She was a liar and a fake and naturally I told her so.
“What? How dare you say that to me! I am well know in this town for my abilities.” she replied.
“Yes, well I would think that it would be your abilities to siphon off money from pigeons like me that your fame rests on! I will denounce you publicly, you can be sure of that!” I shouted excitedly as I got out from the table. I knew that my money was gone and I didn’t try to get it back.
“Get out, now! I don’t want to see you again!” she shrieked at me.
“And you won’t, you old bag!” I said as I violently closed the door behind me.
I was dejected. My only hope for a resolution to my problem had vanished and I was out 100 dollars on top of that. My anger mounted in me and I had thoughts of going to the police. I decided that perhaps it was best not to as they would laugh at my credulity. Everyone knows that psychic are fakes.
I walked home, brooding over my monetary loss and the fact that I had been had. Yes, I had enticed her to accept my proposition but she was a fraud and she knew it, playing on people’s weaknesses. I was angry at her and angry at myself for even thinking that she could be a solution to my problem. I had a headache, no doubt brought about by the smoke in the office and my anger. I finally reached my home and took a nap. I awoke several hours later, after having tossed and turned, thinking about that witch.
I was still slightly groggy from my nap when I put the television on. It was the news; another murder had occurred and the victim was the witch. My witch.