The Girl Who Stopped Swimming - By Joshilyn Jackson Page 0,54

It was an old box, so old that the cardboard side had buckled in and she couldn’t read it, but the pattern of the small writing that covered the back looked familiar.

Laurel stood up so fast her knees cracked. She walked toward Shelby until she could see the sepia box top, which was a picture of the game board. All the letters of the alphabet were in the middle in two rows, bent into a rainbow shape. The font was old-fashioned, with curls and flourishes on every letter. A pale sun guarded the word “yes” in the upper right-hand corner, while a black moon showed the word “no” its grim profile. Along the bottom, the word “goodbye” stretched itself out between two all-seeing eyes.

Laurel snatched her old Ouija board from Shelby’s hands. It was the most ill-conceived Christmas present Thalia had ever given her, and that included the water bra eight years ago. “No, you are not playing with this,” she said.

She’d never even played it. She’d known better, although she’d sat on her bed, her back to the wall, and watched Thalia and her friends mess around with it. The spirits Thalia drummed up were always foulmouthed and dirty-minded, and Laurel had never once wondered who was controlling the planchette. “Go play Xbox.”

“We already played Xbox,” Shelby said.

“Go play Xbox some more,” Laurel said, staring Shelby down.

“Can we go running with Aunt Thalia?” Shelby said.

“No,” Laurel said even louder. Whatever Thalia was planning to do with or to Stan Webelow, Shelby didn’t need to see it.

Shelby’s eyes widened. “Mom? Are you okay?”

Laurel took a deep, calming breath and stepped back, the game board clutched to her chest. “Maybe you could . . .” She stopped, horrified. She’d been about to suggest that they go lie out in the backyard by the pool, and she would come in a few minutes and watch them swim. Most of their summer days past had been spent in and around the pool. Now the curtain was drawn over the glass door in the keeping room. The whole room seemed darker; its gold and green colors, so warm in sunshine, had gone unfriendly. “. . . play Xbox?” she finally finished.

“You said that already. We’re not boys, you know,” Shelby said. “We’re tired of Xbox. Why can’t we go running with Aunt Thalia?”

“You’ll get heatstroke,” Laurel said. It was all she could think of.

Shelby shrugged. “Then let me have that Ouija thing.”

Before Laurel could answer, Bet Clemmens said, “It’s not a ‘Ooh-ja,’ Shelby. You say it like ‘Wee-gee.’”

Shelby looked at Bet, surprised. Even Thalia turned around to look at her. Bet flushed and shifted her weight from one small foot to the other. “I know because of Della’s got one,” she said.

That made sense; Della was Aunt Moff’s girl. Laurel turned back to Shelby and said in the softest voice that she could muster, “Why don’t you change and let me take you to your dance class this afternoon? That might be good, huh? See your friends. Get some endorphins going.”

All expression left Shelby’s face, until it was as blank and plain as a closed door. “We’ll go play stupid Xbox,” she said.

She executed a smart little turn on her heel, abrupt and precise, and walked away. Bet started to follow her, then paused.

“Yes?” Laurel said to Bet, but Bet waited until Laurel could hear Shelby stamping up the stairs.

Then Bet said, “I’m not sick of Xbox.” She was almost whispering. “I’m not sick of nothing here.”

“That’s sweet, Bet. Thank you,” Laurel said, but Bet was already scurrying away. They heard her clattering up the stairs after Shelby.

“That little thing is getting all rooted in,” Thalia said.

Laurel barely listened. She thrust the Ouija board at Thalia and said, “Seriously, what the hell?”

Thalia shrugged and turned back to peer out the window. “There he is,” she said. She backed away from the window and stood up.

“Crap!” Laurel said, and slammed the game down on the pecan table.

Thalia was already trotting through the archway to the front door.

“I’m not done with you about this,” Laurel said, following.

Thalia peered out of the peephole. “As soon as he gets past the curve, I’m going out. I’ll head the other way, sprint up to the intersection, and get myself winded. Work up a good fresh sweat. Men like a good fresh sweat.”

Laurel ignored that and said, “You brought that thing to get at me.” She waved one hand back at the Ouija board, even though Thalia had her back