Unhappy Medium by Elizabeth Cody Kimmel Page B

are way more regular than
     you think. They’re not Madame Serena. They’re people.”
    “Of course,” Ted said quickly.
    “Anyway … ,” my voice trailed off. It was the preferred Brooklyn Bigelow method of indicating a subject change. I hated
     to give credit to Brooklyn for anything, but it worked like a charm.
    “There are other scrapbooks, and plenty of papers and photos, if you’re interested,” Ted said. “My mother wrote her doctoral
     thesis on the Spiritualists — so we have a lot of books about them.”
    “What do you know about Maggie Fox?” I asked.
    “Oh, gosh. Margaret Fox. My mom would —”
    Ted was interrupted by a huge clap of thunder outside. The lights flickered, then went out.
    “Oh no,” he said, getting to his feet. “We’ve lost power. Our generator is being repaired — the timing couldn’t be worse.
     I’m sorry, Kat, but they’re going to need extra hands at the front desk. This could be a massive headache. The guests will
     be freaking out. I mean … some of the guests. Not you, obviously.”
    I smiled.
    “Go. Good luck,” I said.
    “I’ll find you later,” he called, then sprinted for the door.
    “You don’t have to,” I wanted to call after him. Though in truth the Cro-Magnon Boy was starting to grow on me a little.
    I heard a giggle. I discreetly peered over my shoulder. The Barbie had responded to the loss of power by snuggling up to Colin
     in mock terror. How ridiculous. It was the middle of the day, after all. It wasn’t like the Mountain House had been plunged
     into darkness.
    I decided to bail on the reading room. I couldn’t concentrate with the lovebirds cuddling in the corner, and witnessing it
     made me feel disloyal to Jac. And something had occurred to me. A power outage is an excellent time to have a séance.
    All of the electronic stuff we use has the effect of messing up the electric field, making it harder for spirit activity to
     come through to our physical plane. That’s why séances are usually held in the dark and at night, when many electronics are
     switched off. This might be the perfect time to communicate with Madame Serena, and help her out of her time loop.
    I arrived at my room slightly breathless, since the lack of power meant I had to walk up five flights of stairs. I unlocked
     my door, went in, and sat on the bed. I opened my mind to the sounds and sensations of being in the room, focusing on the
     rain, the thunder, and the smell of the storm until I was completely in the moment.
    It’s hard to describe exactly what I do mentally and energetically when I’m trying to communicate with a spirit. Usually,
     the spirits just come to me, and I react to them. But sometimes I need to reach a spirit that isn’t currently manifesting.
     I kind of imagine myself as a satellite dish, and I broadcast a call to the person I’m trying to reach. I transmit the signal
     in every direction. And I wait.
    This time, it didn’t take long. Madame Serena blinked into reality right next to me, as smoothly as if she’d just beamed down
     from the Starship
Enterprise
.
    She didn’t seem to notice I was there, probably because she was too intent on “raising” me herself, her eyes closed and her
     lips moving in a silent chant.
    “Hi,” I said.
    She didn’t hear me.
    “I’m here,” I said, a little louder.
    Her eyes opened, and her hand flew to her chest.
    “Simple Cat!”
    Ah. Whatever.
    “Hello,” I said. “I’m glad you’re here, Madame Serena.”
    She bowed her head.
    “I am honored, Simple Cat. Thank you for coming. The Colonel’s wife isn’t here yet, but I’m sure she will be along shortly.
     How gratifying it will be to tell her you have come to our circle. She has been so patient in waiting to see Loretta — she
     had never accused me, like the others, never …”
    “Madame Serena, I need you to listen to me,” I said.
    She looked at me, wide-eyed, like I was about to levitate.
    “You have been here before,” I