Southern Ways – Part 7
All twelve of us were seated by 9:00 p.m., and Roxanne explained what happens once a soul was summoned. Except for a few candles spread throughout the dining area, the room was dark. The tapestry window coverings were drawn closed against any reflection from the glass. At the center of the round table, Roxanne used the flame of a black candle to light a white sage bundle whose smoke would purify the space of unwelcome energy.
“I declare this place a sacred area, where I may work in peace, and negative energy may disappear, so nothing will interfere with my job. Blessed be! Jehovah, Elohim, Hecate, Lucifer, Hades!”
Roxanne approached the table, taking a wand in her right hand and a brass bell in her left. Back at the room’s center, she directed her scepter at the candle.
She turned counterclockwise and chanted: “Spirits of nature, heaven, and hell, leave in the name of Jehovah in the bell’s ring. Go now unless I have called you to do your part. GO! Or face the wrath of my art. Be Gone in the name of Jehovah.” The bell rang three times.
A circle was drawn around Roxanne’s chair for protection, followed by tracing it with the magic wand. My job was to draw the triangle of Solomon. “This is where the apparition will appear and be held until we are finished,” my friend explained. Aunt Rosie’s picture was placed in the middle of the triangle with an incense of mug wart.
Roxanne sat down in her chair and closed the remaining circle. “Once I call out to Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft and necromancy, it will invoke her to come to me. The apparition will speak through me. Do not break the chain. Keep your hands on the table, fingers touching, and eyes closed. Understand? Any questions before we get started?”
The room was silent. A candle in the middle of the table flickered, and I watched its hypnotic dance. I caught the sound of the wind whistling as it blew through the drafty windows, glad we had closed the heavy drapes.
As I looked around the table, I felt confident my Aunt Rosie would want to come and tell us about the afterlife. Who would’ve guessed scammers existed in the death realm, after learning about the plate-eye?
Roxanne chanted, and I closed my eyes. Suzanne sat to my right, and Liz was to my left. Our little pinkies were touching, folded over each other.
“Oh, the ghost of Rosie Dawson-Harper. I call you in the name of Hecate, the dark goddess, to speak with you. I command you! COME FORTH, lest I cast you into the void to be eternally lost. Come forth, Rosie Dawson-Harper, in the name of Hecate!”
The wand aimed at the candle as she repeated the saying three times. Liz started chanting along with Roxanne. I sensed her pinky press down on mine, telling me I should follow along. So, I did.
It seemed like an eternity until Roxanne let out a moan. I knew something was with us. The room was deadly silent. An icy chill swept through the space. My instincts kicked in and I wasn’t sure if it was Aunt Rosie or an imposter. The medium asked, “Who has come forth?”
“The one you have summoned.” It replied in a monotone voice, unlike Roxanne’s.
“Tell me your name?”
“It is I.”
“I ask you again, state your name, or I will cast you out,” she demanded.
“The one you summoned. IT IS I!” the voice screamed.
I opened my eyes, as did everyone else. We couldn’t believe what we were hearing. This entity was angry and refused to give us its name. It frightened us, but I figured Roxanne was used to this and knew how to handle it.
“Once more, I will ask you, and if you refuse to answer, I will banish you into the void.” Roxanne threatened.
A sinister laugh broke the silence in the dim room. That is not my Aunt Rosie. I wanted to shout out, who the hell are you? But I held back.
“If you want answers, you won’t banish me. I have come in place of Rosie, who is too weak to break through the barriers of the afterlife. The experience of her second state will decide whether the soul goes to heaven or to hell.”
“I have never encountered such a thing. Who has sent you?”
The voice continued, “The second stage is when the spirit goes through its interior thoughts while they were on the physical plane. Once this has been completed, her soul will be free to roam if it ends up in heaven. I am a messenger sent by Hecate. The goddess respects you.”
An enormous gust of wind blew through the room, extinguishing the candle and knocking over wine glasses. We all jumped up. The circle broken and rendered farewell to the soul, whoever it was.
I had a million questions for Roxanne and Liz. Time to retire to the parlor and discuss what happened. But first, we cleaned up the mess on the table, poured ourselves more wine, grabbed the charcuterie board, and placed it on the bar.
Whispers emanated throughout the room. We had all attended seances, but this one was different. A messenger sent in place of Aunt Rosie? Neither Roxanne nor Liz, who had more experience than us, had encountered this before.
“Never in all my years of practicing,” Liz stated. “This is one for the books.”
Roxanne poured a glass of red wine and sat at the bar.
“Liz, what’s your take on what happened tonight?”
“I’m at a loss for words. With previous experience attending many a séance, this one takes the cake.”
“Could it be a ‘spirit scam’?” I asked.
Liz sat back in her chair. “I don’t think so. Long ago, I learned of an ancient religion, as old as America. It was once called the New Church or Swedenborgianism, a Restorationist denomination of Christianity, originally founded in 1787 by Emanuel Swedenborg. He was a scientist and theologian. His book Heaven and Hell, written in Latin and transcribed into English, is about his experience in the afterlife.”
“A man with advanced thoughts for someone living in the 18th century, I’d say.” Liz continued. “I found his theories, or experiences, as he calls them, to be of particular interest, especially how he describes heaven and hell.”
“What do you mean? There is a church with these teachings?” I asked.
“No, he never formed an actual church. These are writings about his experience he claims God gave him so he could journal about it.”
I swiveled my bar stool to face everyone in the room. All eyes focused on Liz.
“He claims there are several levels of heaven,” Liz explained.
“You mean like what the Mormons trust in?” someone asked.
Liz continued, “Some believe Joseph Smith drew beliefs for the Book of Mormon from here, though not entirely. The three heavens are inmost, middle, and outmost. Each heaven has an internal and external. And then there are the different societies. All spirits have a similar arrangement in relation to one another. Like, are drawn spontaneously to their like. Once a person’s body dies, their soul enters one of the three heavens, depending on how they lived on Earth. Their external placement focuses on their public image. Once they complete that work, with an angel’s help, they are never alone in heaven. Next, they must focus on their inner life. I suppose this is where Aunt Rosie is, according to the apparition who showed up tonight.”
“Damn, the afterlife sounds so complicated.” Suzanne laughed. Affirmations abound throughout the parlor.
“Now, what do we do?” I asked.
Liz and Roxanne looked at each other.
Roxanne spoke first. “I have read this book Liz is talking about. There’s a movie about it. Curiosity overtook me, and I learned more about it. It’s fascinating, especially when you realize it was written in the 1700s.”
“What was the name of the movie? I’d like to watch it.” I said. All the other women in the room nodded their heads in agreement.
“The name always slips my mind. On Netflix, a professor accepts a teaching job in a small town. He and his wife purchase a farmhouse out in the country, and the wife sees strange people in the barn and the bedroom upstairs. Apparently, the husband is cheating on the wife but she’s unaware of the affair. Ghosts warn her of impending danger. In one scene, a liquid is dripping from the kitchen ceiling. When the wife goes up to investigate, their bedroom floor is covered in thick, red blood. The bed has a body with a hatchet in its back. She assumes it was the previous tenants and starts investigating the property in the town library.”
“Eww. Doesn’t sound very spiritual to me,” Maryellen chimed in.
“I know, right? The story revolves around religious practitioners trapped as spirits in a farmhouse until they fulfill a redeeming task.”
“I wonder if the entity who came tonight is doing his spiritual task for Aunt Rosie?” I questioned.
“Put little energy in those thoughts,” said Liz. “This wasn’t your aunt’s way, and I highly doubt another supernatural being is looking for brownie points. My opinion, if anyone wants it, is Rosie cannot communicate with us right now. Plain and simple. I’ve done this for twenty-five years and seen everything. We’ll attempt again on a different night. I vote we do another séance, at my place, when the moon is full.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“If any of you can’t attend, local women can fill in. I just need advance notice.”
Suzanne pulled out her phone. “The next full moon is on the 24th, but it’s at 7:30 in the morning.”
“That doesn’t matter.” Liz glanced around. “The 24th is a Saturday. Let’s plan for that night.”
Everyone agreed we’d carpool, and if it got too late, Liz assured us her house had plenty of room. We could spend the night if needed.
“Well, ladies, I think I’ll retire for the evening. This old broad is tired.” Liz got up from her chair.
“Let me show you to your room.” I gently guided Liz up the stairs to Aunt Rosie’s old room.
After getting her settled, I headed back down to the parlor. Roxanne, silent this whole time, worried me.
“Is everything good with you?” I asked.
“Fine, fine. But I’m worried about what may lurk within these walls. I feel uneasy. We must cleanse once more, in case another entity passed through.”
“Do you want to do one now?”
“I think it may be best.”
I entered the dining room, where the bundle of white sage lay on the table. As I reached for it, an electric shock went up my arm. Ow!
A whispered, ‘Get out’ in my ear caused me to grab the sage and run from the room.
Dismissing the warning, I handed the bundle to Roxanne. As flames reached the end of the bundle, a piercing scream came from Liz’s room.
Editor: Michelle Naragon