Authors: Nick Gifford
10 Spirit Talk
Later, after they had eaten, Danny felt a vibration against his leg. He was in his room, in the window seat, looking out over the near-empty car park to where Sharmila and Luke and some of the others were helping a team put up the marquee on the lawn.
He took the phone out. He had a message.
Www.spirit-talking.co.uk CU there 2 chat? 6.30? ...C
He had ten minutes.
Ok. See you. D.
He pulled his trainers on, and went out to the top of the stairs. He took the office key and headed down.
He let himself in through the front doors of Wishbourne Hall. The polished tiles, the grand sweep of a staircase before him and the high ceiling always made him feel that he had stepped into some kind of stately home.
There was a heavy wooden door to his right. He could see through the reception window that the office was empty. Although it was still sunny outside this evening, the office itself was in gloom, with only a little light slipping in through the narrow leaded windows.
He turned the key in the lock and went inside. He often came in here to do his homework. The computer was handy for printing, scanning and its internet connection, but more than anything it was just ... not the flat.
He pressed the power switch on the PC tower under the desk, and sat back in the swivel chair. No need to switch the light on. He looked around the office while the computer powered up.
A short time later, he typed “www.spirit-talking.co.uk” into the address bar and pressed Enter.
The site was slow to load over the Trust’s dial-up connection. A banner ad leapt into life first of all: “GENUINE PSYCHIC READINGS! AS SEEN ON TV”. Below the banner, an ornate stone-effect frame was revealing itself, and a photograph of a smiling man who looked like a dentist. “A big welcome to Spirit Talking, from your host, Dr Bob Walczinski,” it said under the smiling photograph.
While the page was still loading, Danny clicked on the Frequently Asked Questions link. “What is a talk board?” the list of questions read. “How do the talk boards work? Is it safe? Who are the spirit hosts? Can using the talk boards help you develop your psychic abilities? Can I have a talk board on my website? What kinds of questions can I ask? Can the spirit hosts predict my future?”
Danny checked his watch. He had a couple of minutes yet. He clicked on the first question, and it jumped down the page to where the question was repeated with a long paragraph of text below it. A talk board, according to the answer, was some kind of online cross between a ouija board, tarot cards and a chatroom. Log onto a talk board and you can talk directly to the inhabitants of the spirit world, and also to other people dumb enough to believe in all this garbage. That wasn’t exactly how it described it in the FAQ, though...
He clicked Back, which returned him to the top of the page, and then clicked on “Is it safe?”
It’s important to stress here that Talk Boards aren’t right for everyone (click here to arrange a consultation with one of our Qualified Practitioners). Approached with a Positive Attitude, our Boards are a good way for those new to Spirit Communication to get Involved. Remember: even if the Other Side does not call, our resident Spirit Hosts are there to interact with you so remember that your approach is vital - your Mental Energies set the tone. If your Energies are Negative you are sending an invitation to Bad or Mischievous Spirits. Any fears you have will be reflected right back at you if you are not Careful. It is a good idea to visit our Talk Boards with an experienced friend at first (we also provide this service: click here for our Accompanied Chat option). So enter with Positivity and with a Friend and we wish you Well on your Spiritual Journey.
LEGAL NOTICE: spirit-talking.co.uk and its sponsors take no responsibility for this site’s use or misuse or for any actions taken as a consequence.
Danny’s phone buzzed against his thigh. Another message.
Whr RU?! ...C
He called her back.
“Where are you?” she said, straight away. “I’ve been here for ages and I’m like, where is he?”
“This website... what is it? What are you doing there?”
“It’s cool,” said Cassie. “It’s got loads of chatrooms – what it calls talk boards. Have you ever used a chatroom?”
No. But before he could answer, she had moved on.
“So you can hang out with all kinds of people. But the cool thing is that even when you’re alone there, the talk boards have what they call spirit hosts. They’re like those smart characters built into games, programmed to give what seem like wise answers to anything you ask. They’re a gas.”
“But why?”
“It’s fun. That’s why. And sometimes you can find out things about yourself, if you’re up for it. It’s the questions you ask that matter, not the answers. I know you’re not into all this stuff – I’ve seen your looks! Just humour me, okay? It’s somewhere we can get together and have a chat. And I mean
chat
, Danny Schmidt. It’s no good giving me your mysterious silences when we’re online. Do that in a chatroom and you might as well not be there. You have to put something in.”
“Okay,” he said. He would humour her. She was trying to find ways to open him up, he realised. He still didn’t understand why she would want to try. “I’m there now,” he said. “On the Frequently Asked Questions. What do I do?”
“Back to the home page, then ‘Talk Boards’. I’m in number seven. Look out for the duckling.”
And she hung up.
He did as she said.
On the home page he paused. There was a big link in the centre which urged him to pick today’s card. He clicked and an image of a kind of playing card appeared on the screen. It was a picture card, showing a great wheel and what was presumably the Roman numeral, X. “X. Wheel of Fortune,” the text below the card read. “Make a wish and maybe you will be lucky.”
More superstitious nonsense. He clicked Back, and then followed the link to the talk boards.
It took him to a page where he was invited to sign in again, create a new log-in or enter as a guest. He chose the last option and was given the name Guest03. He chose “Talk Board #7” from the list, and waited while the chat software kicked in.
It took him a few seconds to orientate himself. The main frame showed a list of the exchanges taking place in the room. According to the times listed, the last comment had been made three minutes ago: Dahlia telling Moondog that fools may well rush in but that means they get there first. Danny guessed that Dahlia must be one of the spirit hosts, and this one of its pre-programmed nuggets of wisdom.
At the foot of the screen, there was an input form where Danny could type in his own contributions to the chatroom. And on the right there was a list of the room’s occupants: Dahlia, Moondog, Duckling and Guest03. On the main screen it said:
Guest03 enters at 18.36BST
Dahlia says: Welcome, Guest03.
He typed a response, clicked Send and watched it appear on the screen.
Guest03 says: hello
Then he added:
Guest03 says: hi, ducklng
A pause, then a response.
Duckling says: RU from this side or th Other?
He realised his mistake. As he’d entered the chatroom as a guest she didn’t know who he was. Assuming, of course, that “Duckling” was Cassie.
Then she followed up:
[Duckling says to Guest03: its U DS isnt it? ...C]
He looked more closely at the screen and saw that there was the option to reply to Duckling only, so no-one else would see his response. He chose this and sent:
[Guest03 says to Duckling: it’s me. DS]
FirstLady enters at 18.39BST
Dahlia says: Welcome, FirstLady.
On the righthand side, he saw that there were now five of them in the room. He typed a message.
[Guest03 says to Duckling: how do u know if they’re real people or spirit hosts?]
[Duckling says to Guest03: real ppl chose stpd namz like Guest03 ;-P ]
[Duckling says to Guest03: U cant. U lrn 2 spot em. They spell well!]
FirstLady says: what is this place?
Moondog says: 1st time here G03? (yr logins a giveaway)
Moondog says: NE1 here frm th utha side?
Dizzee enters at 18.41BST
Dahlia says: Welcome, Dizzee.
[Duckling says to Guest03: busy 2nite! look 4 nutha rm? jus u&i?]
Dahlia says: Does anyone have a question?
Moondog says: NE1 here frm th utha side?
Dizzee says: I have made the journey to be with you.
Moondog says: Nutha question.
FirstLady says: i think i am lost
Moondog says: i thnk my grlz 2 timing. i need 2 no.
Danny sat back from the screen. His head was whirling with trying to keep up with the rapid exchange of messages. It was like talking to Cassie, only more so, he realised.
Outside, the sun had shifted behind the trees. The office was now submerged in a heavy gloom, so that the glare from the screen was dazzling when he looked back at it.
The flurry of messages had continued.
Near the top, he spotted a private one to him from Cassie. It was about to scroll off the screen – a few seconds later and he would have missed it.
[Duckling says to Guest03: i told u no moody silencs!! ask a q]
He thought.
Guest03 says: My card said to make a wish. What for?
FirstLady says: Hinzelmannchen? Is that you?
Moondog says: corny
Danny’s head spun. He looked at the long list on the right. The virtual room had become crowded. Lots of conversations going on at the same time, all on the screen before him.
Headkin says: Wish for what you desire, but be prepared for the consequences.
FirstLady says: It has been long.
[Headkin says to Guest03: So what do you want, Danny?]
[Duckling says to Guest03: make a wish D - go on. i will 2.]
[Guest03 says to Headkin: I wish some things had never hapened. wish it could be liek before.]
Then he stopped. He stared at the screen. This “Headkin” had been talking directly to him.
And he or she had used Danny’s real name.
He looked at the times of the messages.
[Guest03 says to Duckling: What’s going on?! What have you said to heakdin?]
At first he thought Cassie must have been playing games, but her message had been sent only a second after Headkin’s so she couldn’t have entered the chatroom under two names and sent both.
Headkin says: Guest03 wants to change the past. Can’t do that.
[Duckling says to Guest03: ??? ]
Moondog leaves at 18.47BST
[Guest03 says to Duckling: HK knows who I am! did u tell him my name?]
[Duckling says to Guest03: i sed zilch - u kidding me?]
FirstLady says: Make your wish, Danny. You can’t change the past.
[Duckling says to Guest03: hey! 1st L did 2!]
Dahlia says: Does anyone have a question?
Guest03 says: Whats going on?
Dahlia says: Everyone sees a different slice of reality. The wise see more.
Headkin says: I can help you, Danny. We can do it together.
Guest03 says: This isn’t funny. Im off.
[Duckling says to Guest03: whats happneing? D I don’t like ths. What RU doing? ]
FirstLady says: Stop teasing him, Hinzelmannchen.
Guest07 says: how duz this wrk?
[Headkin says to Guest03: You want things back to how they were, don’t you, Danny? I can help you.]
FirstLady says: Poor boy. His daddy’s locked away and his mummy’s got a new boyfriend. We have to stop this, don’t we? We have to make things how they were, don’t we?
[Headkin says to Guest03: Let me help you. We can fix things together.]
Guest07 leaves at 18.52BST
[Duckling says to Guest03: answer me!!! ]
“What is it? What are you doing in here in the dark, Danny?”
Danny looked across at the doorway. Someone coming in. Short. Pony-tail. It was hard to see as his eyes adjusted from the glare of the screen to the dim interior of the HoST office.
It was Little Rick.
“I...”
His hand felt locked in position, but he managed to shift it, move the mouse, click.
Guest03 leaves at 18.53BST
The screen paused for a few seconds with his farewell message, and then jumped back to the list of Talk Board options.
Little Rick had come to stand just behind Danny.
“So you’re a secret chatroom addict, are you?
Danny shook his head. “First time,” he said. His mind was racing, struggling to grasp what had just happened. He looked at Rick, but could make out little in the gloom. He wondered how much he had been able to read before the screen changed.
“Occult stuff,” said Rick now, looking at the web page. “I didn’t know you were into all that crap.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay, okay. Whatever. Just don’t let it get out of hand, okay? You need to be careful when you’re doing this stuff.”
Rick left.
Danny shut down the computer. He sat in the darkness. He wanted to go and turn the light on. More than almost anything, he wanted that light on.
But he didn’t dare move.
11 Opening up
He was stirred into action by a buzzing against his leg.
The phone’s LCD screen glowed in the murky room. Cassie’s number.
“What are you playing at, Danny? What’s going on? What was that all about?”
“I...”
“It’s not funny. You freaked me out for a minute there. I don’t know how–”
“Cassie.”
She stopped. She seemed to sense something in the tone of his voice. She waited for him to continue.
“Cassie, I don’t know what happened in there. I’m not playing at anything.”
“Danny, he said your dad’s locked up. Is that true? You’re not just getting your own back because I made up stories about my own family?”
He hesitated. He had lost track of how much of the exchange with Headkin and FirstLady had been public and how much one-to-one.
“Can we talk?” he said.
He couldn’t let this get out: the past, his father. It would break Val if they had to go through all that again.
“We’re talking right now.”
“Can you come out? It’s not that late.”
“I might.”
“Top of Swiss Lane? Five minutes?”
She hung up.
~
She was late, but she came.
“I can’t be long,” she said. “I told them I was going to Jo’s.” She looked back towards her house. “Come on. I don’t want to stop here.”
They headed back along the road into the older part of the village. At the bridge, they left the road and cut down the bank to a small cleared area in the undergrowth by the brook. This was one of the places where village kids came to smoke and make out.
Danny leaned back against the base of the bridge.
Cassie stood with her hands on her hips, peering at him in the twilight.
“So?” she said.
“I thought
you
might have some idea what happened. You’ve been to that chatroom before. I haven’t. I don’t do that stuff.”
“It’s never been like that,” she said. “It’s just a place to chat, and those weird spirit hosts spouting words of wisdom every so often. It’s usually funny. It’s usually a gas. But this time ... it really freaked me out, Danny. What was it?”
He’d never heard her like this. Uncertain, hesitant. Scared.
“They knew my name,” he told her. “The one called Headkin: he sent a message to me directly and called me ‘Danny’. Then FirstLady did it, too.”
“I saw that one. Her message was open to everyone.” There was a silence and then Cassie continued, “Okay. Be logical. When you signed in... I can’t remember what you have to tell them when you sign in as a guest. Did you give your name or your e-mail or anything?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. It just gave me that ‘Guest03’ name and let me in. Nobody knew I was there, apart from you.”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” she said sharply. “I–”
“I know.”
“Maybe there was someone you know there. Maybe they worked out who you were somehow. I don’t know. I don’t understand.”
She moved towards him, and leaned with her head on his chest and his chin resting on the top of her head.
“I read some of the stuff about the site,” said Danny. “The Frequently Asked Questions. It did warn about going in with a negative attitude. It said bad things could happen. Maybe they deliberately let it get weird sometimes, just to rattle people.”
“But they knew stuff, didn’t they, Danny? That wasn’t pre-programmed trickery. It was for real.”
He said nothing.
“I told you every family has to have a dark secret, didn’t I?” said Cassie.
Silence, again. Danny had his eyes jammed tightly shut. When he opened them everything was blurred, slowly sharpening.
“One of them said your mum has a new boyfriend. Has she?”
“Maybe,” said Danny. “I asked the guy the other day, but he didn’t seem too certain. He calls round a lot. He’d like to be, I reckon. It’s Little Rick – Mr Sullivan.”
“No! You’re kidding me. But... well, teachers do it, too, I suppose. I mean... Mr
Sullivan
.”
He rubbed his chin against the top of her head. He could smell the shampoo on her hair.
“And your dad?”
“How did they know? Nobody knows that stuff.”
“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I’m freaked. I don’t think I
want
to know.”
“Will you promise me something?” Danny said. He had his hands on her arms now, and he gently eased her away, so that he was looking down into her face.
“Promise you what?”
“Don’t talk about any of this – to anyone.” He realised now that he had to say more if he was going to persuade her. “Mum had a really hard time with all this a few years ago. The trouble. She had to cope. That’s why we came here: a fresh start in a place where nobody knows what we had to go through. Nobody judging us. We left all that behind. If it gets out here she’ll be devastated.”
“You’re not making sense, Danny. If
what
gets out?”
“The past.”
She was still looking up at him and he felt exposed. He pulled her towards him again, so that she was against his chest and he was looking over her. It was easier to talk like that.
“My father’s in prison,” he said. They were words he had never spoken aloud before. “He killed people.”
He felt her tense as soon as the words escaped his lips. This was all wrong, he realised. He was just going to turn her away from him. Quite rightly, too. Anybody in their right mind would run a mile from him.
“‘People’?” she whispered. She had her hands up before her, against his chest, and she pulled them tighter in, and then relaxed a little.
“He went mad one night,” said Danny. Not really
one night
. It had built up steadily: his father had watched Chris and Val, following them. Eva, too – he had hated her for some reason. Feared her. From what Danny had been able to make himself read of his father’s journal, the madness seemed to have built over a period of a few weeks, until finally, one night, he had cracked.
“There was a big row. Dad was out somewhere. Mum wanted to go out to see a friend. She had an argument with Dad’s Aunt Eva, and Eva went out instead.”
Danny had hidden upstairs in Oma Schmidt’s room, while his grandmother slept, which seemed to be all she did at that time. Eva was yelling at his mother: “I come all this way because my family is calling to me. I come together with my family and what is it that I am finding? You!
Schlampe
, pulling the family apart. You cannot do it. I will not let you do it. Do you hear my words? You make Anthony like a fool. You see what you are doing to him? You drive a nail through his heart. You tell me where it is that you are meeting this man. You tell me now.”
Eva had gone. She went to tell his mother’s friend that they were to stop meeting.
And so it was Eva who found his father at Chris Waller’s house, kneeling over his best friend’s body so that he could be in the best position to cut out his tongue. It was Eva who saw her nephew looking at her over the sights of her own old Luftwaffe Luger. That pistol must have been the last thing she had ever seen.
“He killed Eva,” Danny told Cassie now. “And he killed a friend of his, who was also ... a
friend
of my mother. And some others. Three. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“God.”
He had expected horror and Cassie was horrified.
He had expected shock and she was, clearly, shocked by what he told her.
He had expected revulsion, too, but no, far from being repelled by Danny and his story she was clinging to him more tightly, holding him.
“What must it have been
like
for you? God.” She pressed against him.
After a time, she asked, “So... how did they know?”
For a moment he was thrown by her question.
“Your name,” she said. “That your father is locked up and your mother might have a new boyfriend. How did they know those things in the talk board?”
“Someone from the past?” Danny said. “Someone who’s tracked us down and wants to stir everything up again?” But that still left a lot unexplained.
“Adam and Eve,” said Cassie slowly. “Eve: the first woman. FirstLady. Eve. Eva. She seemed lost. Confused. The talk board’s supposed to be like a Ouija board, calling up spirits from the other side, talking to the dead.”
“Eva? No.”
“She said something that looked German.”
“Something -
mannchen
,” said Danny. “‘Little man’? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know. That’s what she was calling Headkin, though. She seemed to recognise him.”
That was when Danny saw it.
The connection.
All it took was hearing Cassie pronounce the name aloud.
Headkin.
“What?” She had sensed his body tensing. “What is it?”
“I know that name,” he told her. “Headkin. My father – he kept a journal. He wrote about the voices in his head that were driving him mad. He had a name for the voice that tormented him the most.”
“Headkin?”
“Almost. He called it Hodeken. The evil little man in his head. Taunting him. Driving him mad.”
“I’m scared.”
He held her tight.
Danny was scared too. More scared than he had ever been in his life.