The Diviners
“We summon now the spirit of this board to heed our call and tell us our fortunes true!” the hostess says with great intonation broken by giggles. “You must obey, spirit!”
There is a moment’s pause, and then the planchette begins its slow migration across the scarred board’s gothic black alphabet, spelling out a word.
H-E-L-L-O
“That’s the spirit,” someone quips.
“What is your name, o great spirit?” the hostess insists.
The planchette moves quickly.
N-A-U-G-H-T-Y-J-O-H-N
George raises an eyebrow mischievously. “Say, I like the sound of that. What makes you so naughty, old sport?”
Y-O-U-L-L-S-E-E












