Ancient Spirits (Daisy Gumm Majesty Books) by Alice Duncan Read Free Book Online

earth with their ugliness and bad actions? As ever, I received no answer, either from myself or from God. It pains me to say so, but I resented God a good deal in those days. According to all the folks who claimed to know such things, God is always with us, and He supposedly answered prayers. So how come I couldn’t get a simple answer to a simple question? Oh, never mind.
    Therefore, I pulled the medallion-backed chair over to the table in front of the sofa so that I was face to face with Mrs. Pinkerton. “I believe we should consult the cards first.”
    “Do you really think so, dear? I did so hope Rolly could offer me some aid and comfort.”
    See what I mean? She wanted to hear from Rolly, my totally imaginary spirit control whom I’d thought up when I was ten years old. What’s more, in my youthful eagerness I’d given him a history and a Scottish accent. Back then, I’d thought it would be romantic if Rolly and I had been soul mates and he’d followed me through all my incarnations since eleventh-century Scotland, where he’d been a soldier and we’d been married and had five sons together. I’d managed the Scottish accent thanks to the little Scottish girl who went to grade school with me. Since my tenth year I’d sometimes wished I’d given him a more sophisticated name, but what can you expect from a ten-year-old? Anyhow, most of my clients thought his name was spelled Raleigh, so I don’t suppose it mattered much.
    “We’ll consult with Rolly after I read the cards for you,” I said firmly. Drat the woman; she wasn’t going to dictate my actions. If she took hell from her daughter, she could take spiritual advice from me the way I chose to deliver it.
    I guess I was still in a pretty rotten mood, huh?
     
     

 
    Chapter Five
     
    Naturally, since I was the one manipulating the cards and the Ouija board, both the cards and Rolly told Mrs. Pinkerton exactly what Sam, Harold and I had already told her.
    The cards, which I dealt out in a Celtic Cross pattern, told Mrs. Pinkerton that she would have to endure some rough days ahead, but that if she did what she needed to do—it didn’t pay to be too specific about these things—her life would resume a pleasant course again soon. Anyhow, Sam, Harold and I had already told her what she needed to know. She wasn’t the brightest woman on earth, but she must have got the picture by that time.
    “Oh, dear. Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Pinkerton after the reading. “I don’t really know how to make Stacy behave, Daisy. I truly don’t.”
    Good Lord. “I think the cards are saying you need to be firm with her,” I said, knowing even as I did so that Mrs. Pinkerton was about as firm as whipped cream.
    “I suppose that must be it,” she said uncertainly.
    So then I hauled out the Ouija board. I always kept it in a little draw-string bag I’d made for it and, while it was probably one of the very first Ouija boards ever marketed in 1903 or thereabouts, I’d polished it up some. Mrs. Pinkerton always loved chatting with Rolly, although I sensed she wasn’t going to enjoy that day’s session as much as usual, mainly because I was in such a lousy temper. As a rule, the Ouija board spells out the answers to people’s questions and Rolly only showed up to speak during séances, but since we weren’t in séance mode that day, I had him speak, through me, to Mrs. Pinkerton. I pulled the draperies so the room would be dark in order to further the pretense. Then I got to work.
    “Och,” I had Rolly say in my Rolly-voice, which was about an octave lower than my normal speaking voice, “the poor woman shouldn’t have to take grief from her child. Her child should be an aid and comfort to her. Tch, tch. ‘Tis a shame, that is. She needs to learn a lesson, that daughter of hers.”
    “Oh, Rolly!” wailed Mrs. Pinkerton. “But she’s my daughter!”
    “She don’t act much like one,” said Rolly with more candor than usual.
    Did I mention that Rolly’s