Mind Games
by
Dorothy Thompson
"G-e-t-a-g-u-n...g-e-t-a-g-u-n...g-e-t-a-g-u-n".
The cobalt moon rose slowly as if in suspended animation in the cool October night as the two girl's fingers flew over their homemade Ouija board.
They tried vehemently to make sense of the situation, but as they were pretty new to the board, they were at a loss as to what to make of it. Melissa was still wet behind the ears, as her friend, Libby, would say, but Libby was known to have psychic powers, which got her into trouble most of the time.
"What do you mean 'get a gun'?" Melissa yelled at the obtrusive board. "Who get a gun?"
The girls were tiring of this repetitive behavior from their primitive Ouija board. Was it the late-night doldrums or was someone or something trying to tell them something?
They shifted nervously in their seats, patiently waiting for an answer.
Slowly, but with great purpose, the pointer began to crawl across the board, searching for just the right letters to get its message across.
"M-e-l-i-s-s-a...g-e-t...a...g-u-n," it spelled.
A slight frown creased Libby's forehead, then deepened as she looked at her friend's terrified face. She knew better than to get Melissa involved in this. She knew her friend's nerves were shot right now, as she had just gotten out of a relationship with her boyfriend and hadn't quite gotten back to her old self yet. It seemed anything Libby did or said to her was misinterpreted to the point where Libby was afraid to even open her mouth anymore. However, that never stopped her before.
"Why should Melissa get a gun?" she asked the board.
"R-a-y...i-s...e-v-i-l...r-a-y...i-s...e-v-i-l."
"Who in the hell is Ray?" she asked, grabbing another puff from her cigarette, making ghost swirls with each exhale.
Melissa knew Ray from the local pizza parlor where she worked night shift as a waitress. He seemed a likable guy; but, there was something strange about him that no one could put their fingers on.
He was tall and handsome, much like an Adonis, rippling with masculinity, yet dark and mysterious. His somber eyes, sable in color, lingered in your mind long after he cast his glare on you. It was as if he possessed an uncanny ability to stare through to one's inner soul. On the outside, he was every girl's dream. On the inside, he was every girl's nightmare.
Everyone knew everyone in the small town of Hunting Creek. Strangers drifting in were carefully scrutinized. Crabbers off the local dock stopped in now and then, wolfed down a couple thick slices of gooey, cheese-laden pizza, and headed off to the dock to pull in their nets before they headed back to the city. Local merchants would congregate at lunchtime, toss quips to one another, and then head back to their shops with the hopes the come-heres would stop by for a taste of their country wares.
"Oh my God," answered Melissa. "There's a guy named Ray that just started working with me a couple nights ago. He's from somewhere in Georgia. That's really all I know about him; except, he's living with his sister here in Hunting Creek. He has no car and no way to get anywhere. When he suggested we go ride out sometime, I took him up on it and took him for a ride after work."
"We rode around and he gave me a kiss," she continued. "He didn't know me from Adam and already he started talking about marriage. I thought that to be a bit odd."
"Put your fingers back on," exclaimed Libby. "I need to ask something."
"Why is Ray evil?" Libby hesitantly asked the waiting sooth-seer.
The air took on a dank chill and the curtains ruffled as if someone had opened a window, only no one had. The candle which they had lit hours before and had gotten down to but a tiny flame suddenly heightened in intensity. The grandfather clock bellowed midnight and the girls grew nervous as they waited for the pointer to finish its impetuous crawl.
"R-a-y...k-i-l-l-e-d...b-e-h-i-n-d...s-t-o-r-e"
"That's it," said Melissa, throwing her hands up in despair. "This is too much...what do I do now?"
Libby could see the fear in Melissa's normally laid-back demeanor. She feared for her friend's safety. She knew how gullible and lonely her friend was. One kind word and Melissa threw all sensibilities out the window.
Libby had had experiences with Ouija boards before and never left from using one without feeling uneasy. Like the time she and her friend, Roberta, were playing and Roberta went into a trance-like state and the pointer flew off the board. Roberta came back to reality and couldn't remember a thing.
"For god's sake, Melissa," Libby said, "just to be on the safe side, don't go anywhere with him."
Melissa knew Libby was right; but Ray seemed so attractive. She missed having someone pay attention to her after her boyfriend had left her for a 16-year-old, five years younger than she. After all, she thought to herself, Ouija boards aren't for real, are they? Heck, they could be just manipulative devices of the mind for all she knew. And she knew she wasn't going to let anyone, or anything, manipulate her anymore.
On the way home that night, Melissa toyed with the radio buttons trying to get her mind off her harrowing visit with Libby. She glanced out her rear-view mirror, sensing something was following her. Seeing nothing but the faint glare of headlights far behind her, she heaved a sigh of relief.
My mind is playing games with me, she rationed. She rolled down her window and turned up the radio. "You Are Wonderful Tonight" sang into the night. Good grief, she said to herself, this was Michael's and my song. Quickly changing it to another station, she headed home.
The next night at work, Melissa watched Ray's every move. She noticed how short-tempered he was, throwing dishes in the dishwasher. She noticed track marks along his arms, possibly from drug abuse. She couldn't help to believe the Ouija board. It seemed so real...
Before long, word spread among the eating establishment about the episode with the ouija board. Everyone avoided Ray like the plague, avoiding his requests for rides home. Perhaps they didn't want to take a chance; perhaps they were being too paranoid. Nevertheless, Ray was not one they wanted to be near.
Ray began to feel something was amiss. He could feel the tension among his co-workers contributing it to being the "new kid on the block". Coming from an abusive household, Ray tried to fit into the mainstream of society, working hard and paying his own way. Sometimes life hands you life on a silver platter; sometimes life gives you nothing but hard knocks. This seemed to be the way Ray's life was going, nothing but hard knocks at every door.
Wanting to put an end to his struggle, he decided to take matters in his own hands. How was he going to end his plight and make a new start if no one would talk to him? He didn't have the answers, but he knew someone who might.
The next night, he cornered Melissa as she was making her way to the kitchen.
"Melissa," he said, "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," she said, keeping her distance.
"Why is it everyone doesn't like me here?"
Melissa nearly knocked over a tray of platters, as she was completely caught off-guard by Ray's revelation. It wasn't only Ray who had a need for answers; she also had a few questions of her own.
"Ray," she began, "I don't really know how to put this, so I'll put it to you straight."
Melissa didn't know quite how to ask him. But, never one to beat around the bush, she confronted him.
"Did you kill someone behind a store?"
"What are you talking about?" he asked her, his brows tightening.
Melissa explained everything to him, right down to the Ouija board.
"I never killed anyone, anywhere," he told her. "I'm a good guy, honest. I've had a hard life, you know? But, I promise you, I have not killed anyone!"
After hearing Ray's pleas of innocence, Melissa began to believe him. How could she think the Ouija board was real? How can anyone even begin to believe in them? She felt that she had been the one responsible for everyone not trusting Ray, not wanting to be his friend. She felt she had ruined his chances of starting over and beginning a new life at Hunting Creek.
"I'll tell you what," Melissa said. "I'll make it up to you. You still need that ride home from work?"
"Sure," he said.
"Meet me in the parking lot after closing."
Ray was ecstatic. He hurried through his side-work and punched out. Melissa grabbed a drink from the machine and climbed into her Sunfire with Ray trailing behind.
"I have to stop for a couple dollars of gas and some cigarettes before I take you home, ok?" she asked Ray, as he slid into the passenger seat.
"No prob," he said.
She pulled into the local convenience store. Its bright lights shined ominously casting long dark shadows throughout the parking lot.
Melissa told Ray to go in and pay while she pumped.
A few minutes later, he returned with a bewildering, yet comical look on his face.
"What's the matter?" she asked him.
"Isn't that funny," he said with a cocky laugh, "It came to $6.66."
Melissa's face turned ashen. Her breathe choked on his words. Suddenly, she grew faint and felt very uneasy.
Ray jumped back in the car, leaving Melissa to hang up the gas pump and climb inside without showing her fear to him. Her forehead grew moist and clammy and she felt like her heart was going to beat right out of her chest.
Speeding down the road, she thought, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die.
They reached Ray's house and he turned to her to give her a kiss, but she felt her face turn away without thinking. She knew better than to piss him off, but couldn't bring herself to have her lips on his. This angered Ray.
He grabbed her by the wrist and thrust her back in her seat. Seeing the fear in Melissa's face, he released her, opened the car door and slowly got out. Melissa sat there for a second and watched him disappear into the darkness.
The next night, Ray did not show up for work. His sister said he did not come home that night. Ray, the stranger from Georgia and a victim of society, had mysteriously vanished.
Melissa and Libby confronted the Ouija board one last time.
"Where is Ray?" they asked.
"I...h-a-d...n-o...o-t-h-e-r...c-h-o-i-c-e...b-u-t...t-o...k-i-l-l...h-i-m."
© Dorothy Thompson