Freaks Out! by Jean Ure Page B

helping myself to her things.
    â€œI reckon I’m going to try something else,” I said.
    â€œWhat? What are you going to try?”
    â€œI’m going to try a pendulum.”
    It was something I’d read on the Internet, when I was researching about crystal balls.
    â€œA pendulum like on a necklace?” said Jem.
    â€œThat’s a pendant ,” I said. “Pendulum’s what you get on a clock. Thing that swings to and fro.”
    â€œOh.”
    There was a silence.
    â€œIt’s dead easy,” I said. “Anybody can make one. Though not everybody, of course, has the powerto make them work.” I added this just in case she was getting any ideas in her head. “You have to be a bit psychic. I’ll probably try it out tonight, see what answers I get.”
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    Making a pendulum was ever so much simpler than making a crystal ball. All you needed was a key, preferably an ancient one, and a piece of cord eighteen centimetres long. What you did, you attached the key to one end of the cord, then held the other end so that the key could dangle to and fro. Easy peasy! If you were psychic. It wasn’t any use Jem thinking she could do it.
    The oldest key I could find was the tiny little one belonging to the corner cabinet that stands in my bedroom and used to belong to one of my grans. I reckoned that would be plenty old enough. I didn’t have any cord, and didn’t quite like to go and root about among Mum’s sewing stuff, but there was a ball of string in one of the kitchen drawers, so I carefully measured off eighteen centimetres onmy ruler and went upstairs to shut myself away where I wouldn’t be disturbed.
    Now all I had to do was ask questions, but they had to be questions that could be answered with a simple yes or no. If the key swung in a north to south direction, it was giving the answer yes. If it swung east to west, that meant no. And if it went round in circles it was probably better for you not to know. I did hope it didn’t go in circles!
    I only had one small problem: I had no idea which was north and which was south! I bucketed downstairs to ask Dad. He was watching football on television and pointed silently towards the windows. Right! Now I could get going.
    I held my end of the cord and waited till the key had settled down. OK! I took a breath.
    â€œDo you know where Skye’s silver pencil is?”
    Yikes! It did! North to south: that meant yes. This was very encouraging! I asked another question.
    â€œIs it in Skye’s back garden?”
    To my disappointment, the key immediately set off in a circle. Better not to know. But why?
    I tried again.
    â€œShould we look in Skye’s back garden?”
    This time, the key swung north to south. That was better! But I had to be sure.
    â€œIs that where the pencil is? In the back garden?”
    East to west: no. This wasn’t making any sense! What was the point of looking in the garden if the pencil wasn’t there?
    â€œPlease concentrate,” I said. “ Is the pencil in Skye’s back garden? ”
    Yes.
    â€œSo is that where we should look?”
    No.
    Excuse me???
    â€œYou just said that that’s where it was!”
    The key looped about, irritably. I waited for it to calm down.
    â€œSorry,” I said. “Sorry! I just wanted to make sure… is the pencil in the back garden ?”
    I waited. The key hung sullenly. I’d obviously upset it.
    â€œ Or is it somewhere else? ”
    No response.
    â€œ Please ,” I begged, “ speak to me! ”
    Still nothing. Bother. Bother, bother, bother ! I tossed the key across the room. I knew there wasn’t any point in carrying on. Spirits are extremely sensitive and can also be rather prickly. I had read this somewhere. It is essential to treat them with respect. Once they are displeased with you they won’t communicate no matter how hard you try. You can plead as much as you like.
    I