Ghost Dancing by Stefon Mears

Author:Stefon Mears [Mears, Stefon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thousand Faces Publishing

Somewhere in there I must have fallen asleep. Because along about midnight I awoke with a jerk. That crap that covered me had hardened to a crust, gumming up my eyes and leaving the worst taste I’d had in my mouth since college.

And I didn’t know why I’d woken up.

Then I heard the violins. Playing something … classical. Beethoven maybe.

Nasty stuff cracked and flaked off of me as I stood. More of it coated my spare clothes which were scattered all over the room. I could feel my hair plastered into a helmet on my head.

But I followed the sound of the violins. With each step, every hair on my body tugged and pulled against the residue of ickiness. And I felt like I was being watched, not just by cameras and not just by Mr. Seersucker. I felt as though every eye on the planet was fixed squarely on the back of my neck.

But I kept walking. Out of my bedroom, down the stairs and into the ballroom.

Now the ballroom was one of those rooms we’d used every day. It was big, with a domed ceiling of stained glass. Apart from the harpsichord in the corner, it would have had an empty hardwood floor except for the equipment we were supposed to use at least every day or two. Hedging against a lack of supernatural activity. EVP recorders, Kirlian cameras and all others kinds of ghost hunting equipment along a hard plastic collapsible table that didn’t fit into the décor at all.

None of us had touched any of the equipment in the whole time we’d been here. The “supernatural activity” had been self-evident.

But when I walked into the room, the camera was flashing shots every few seconds, and I could see the red power lights going on every piece of equipment. Even though some of them should have had to have been plugged in.

And in the middle of the room, Mr. Seersucker twirled and danced while fiddling.

That was it. That was the final straw. I snapped.

I started dancing too.

I didn’t know anything about waltzes, so I just started trying to boogie without even coming close to the tempo.

That pissed off the ghost.

“No! No, no, no! On the beat,” he yelled.

But I was past caring, I was just shaking my hips and stepping back and forth and pointing up and down like I had the Saturday Night Fever.

“Stop it!” The Kirlian camera flew across the room and shattered. But he didn’t stop playing his violin and I didn’t stop dancing.

The EVP recorder went next. And then something that looked like an oscilloscope went out a window into the backyard.

But I had nothing left for my stinky, exhausted butt to do but dance.

The rest of the equipment got thrown about and shattered. Mr. Seersucker was screaming now, too long and loud for human lungs to manage. Loud enough to blow my eardrums so I couldn’t hear him or the violin anymore.

But I just kept dancing. Like there was nothing else left. This guy’d won, and all I could do was dance for his victory celebration.

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