Ferdinand Fernadino - "Jaguars and Seances"

I numbly walk to the Jaguar, willing my body to handle the cold. I'm underdressed, and it's getting late. It is 12 pm when I arrive at the Jaguar. The building stands in opposition to the church, a darkened rectangle adorned with neon pink and blue lights. The place is hopping, as usual. Sunglasses-wearing bouncers mill about outside. A fight breaks out in the parking lot, where gleaming Maseratis and Lamborghinis are parked conspicuously. I walk in and immediately regret the decision. It's too loud in here. I'm not exactly squeamish, but there's something weird about ritualized ogling of women by large crowds of men. The women don't really want to be there, they're just doing their jobs. I toss a twenty dollar bill to one of the more starved-looking ones and exit out the same way I came in. The door is a portal, linking the cacaphonous heat of the club with the icy silence of the outside. A few people turn their heads as I exit, annoyed at the sudden rush of cold air invading their inebriated dream-worlds. "Sorry," I mutter under my breath, "but that's life."

I find myself in a surprisingly bitter mood as I walk the streets, hands shoved in my pockets. My ears burn uncomfortably, and I'm muttering. That's never a good sign. It's cold, dark, and quiet, save for the wind. Frustration. I look at my options – going back to the apartment, going to Mo' Liquor, going to the bar, or...a walk in the woods, maybe? Beside the church, there's a skimpy a patch of woods. I'd never gone in there before. I walk into the enveloping darkness. For a time, all is dark. And then, the darkness clears. I come to an opening in the woods, illuminated by moonlight. In the center of the opening is a well, and a hushed crowd is gathered around it. My first impulse is to turn and run, but I realize that I am invisible to the people, cloaked in the darkness of the forest. White light reflects from the identical frosty cloaks that each person wears. I can count eleven of them. I hear a voice.

"Someone died and was buried here...her name was...her name was..." Someone looks up with start and says, in a surprised tone:

"Abby."

The man clenches the air with his fist. "Abby! Yes! Her name was Abby! Her parents weren't fond of her, they...they hated her! They threw her in this well and drowned her! Everyone, we must bring Abbey back, together!"

It starts as a gentle moan, then gets louder. "Abby. Aaaa-by. Aaaaa-by. Aaaaaaa-by," like they were calling a dog. The man in the cloak, who seemed to be the leader, threw his palm into the air. The moaning stopped."

"Can you hear her!?" the man says, his eyes wide. "CAN YOU HEAR HER!?" He was kind of annoying, actually. A few members of the crowd give half-assed nods of agreement. I decide to jump-start this seance.

I clear my throat and muster up my best falsetto. "Iiiiiiii AMMMM ABBBBBYYY." The crowd looks around, confused. I can see the leader's train of thought rumble across his face. We wait, on edge, and then, he speaks:

"IT'S HER!" He exclaims, his eyes growing wider. "IT'S ABBY. We must listen."

I smirk and raise my voice again. "MYYYY PARENTS DROWNED ME WHEN I WAS 11 YEARS OLD..."

I think for a second.

"...AND I HAVE HAUNTED THESE WOODS EVER SINCE."

The leader cuts in – "Abby, which one of your parents drowned you?"

"IT WASSSSS MY FATHERRRRRRRRR." I reply.

"Abby," the leader starts again, his voice taking on a tone of utter seriousness, "what was your father's name?"

Uh-oh.

"MY FATHER'S NAME...MY FATHER'S NAME WAS....IT WASSSSSSS–" I say the first name that pops into my head – "LU GARIGAMI!"

"Lu Garigami!" the leader exclaims. "We must find this man, whoever he is, and bring him to justice! The spirits are not to be ignored!"

I laugh to myself, turn around and leave. "Well, that was fun..." As I make my way toward home, an image strikes me – the apartment register in the lobby. It's one of those old-fashioned ones that lists the name of the man or woman who owns the apartment. About halfway up, where it says "Lu Garigami-Apt. 121F."

"So that's where I got that from." I think to myself. "Hmph...Hope nothing bad happens."