Poltergeist by James Kahn Read Free Book Online Page A

continued. “The other reason I don’t think she’s faking is that she’s so upset. She hardly believes in some of these experiences herself—she’d certainly like to be rid of them, and furthermore, would never even have come to us if her sister hadn’t insisted she get ‘cured.’ No, I think Tangina’s the real thing.”
    “She’s the real thing, all right,” Ryan said sarcastically.
    “What’s up for tonight?” asked Marty.
    “Tonight we put it all together,” Lesh said, taking off her glasses, rubbing her eyes. “EEG monitoring, evoked potentials, electromagnetic field analysis, and visuals—first under hypnosis, then during sleep.”
    “Well—I think we’re wasting our time. But what the hell—it’s only my education.”
    “It’s only my life, Mr. Mitchell,” said Tangina from the doorway.
    There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as the three scientists wondered how long she’d been standing there listening. This happened to Tangina not uncommonly, though—these uncomfortable silences. She was a dwarf.
    “Ryan meant no insult, Tangina,” Dr. Lesh intervened. “He was a born skeptic. It’s only his way of being . . . scientific.”
    “Frankly, doctors, I’m not interested in whether you believe in my powers or not—as long as you find a way to stop my dreams.”
    “We’ll do what we can,” Dr. Lesh said gently. “That’s all I can promise you.”
    Cumulus clouds were matting the sky once more as Steve drove home Monday evening. He hoped it wouldn’t be another screamer, as Sunday’s had been. They could all use a good night’s sleep tonight.
    He groaned as he swung the Country Squire around the last corner and pulled up to his driveway: three garbage cans blocked the entrance.
    “Kids,” he muttered, as he stopped the car, got out, and began to move the obstacles. Diane came running out the front door before he d cleared them off.
    “Hey, sugar,” he called out. “Guess who just bought P-4 237 . . .”
    “C’mere. Hurry,” she panted, grabbing his wrist.
    “Whoa, wait a sec, I’m parked in the street.” He’d never seen her like this. She looked pale and flushed at the same time.
    “Leave it. Come quick, before it stops again.”
    She pulled him at a trot into the house, down the hall, into the kitchen. Sweat covered her forehead; there was a sense of concentrated hysteria about her that Steve had never witnessed: she was right on the edge.
    “Babe, what is it, you look . . .”
    “Okay, okay . . . look. Okay. Now listen. Robbie and Dana are eating at the Sandersons—I’ve kept them out of it, but Carol Anne’s been in on it from the beginning, but Dana would just start to blab or get embarrassed and Robbie’d be up for the next three weeks sleeping on your side of the bed, and . . .”
    “Diane, put the brakes on, will you? Just sit down here a sec, and tell me . . .”
    “No, goddammit, you sit down!” She shouted much louder than either of them expected, and it startled them both. She lowered her voice, and went on. “I mean . . . just stand right there. And just . . . just have an open mind.”
    Carol Anne walked in, looking cranky. In her hand she carried a San Diego Charger football helmet; on her face she carried a frown. “I’m hungry,” she whined. “Mommy didn’t made dinner.”
    “We’ll go to Pizza Hut, all right?” Diane shouted. She caught herself again, made herself calm down.
    For the first time, Steve noticed the chalk marks on the floor. Arrows, squares, numbers, like alien hieroglyphics. He had the sudden, sinking fear that Diane was losing her mind.
    “Diane—what is going on with you!?”
    Diane’s lip trembled, her breathing quickened, but she held up her hands as if to say, “I’m fine.” Then, with a sense of purpose that would not be undermined by the unreality of the situation, she grabbed a kitchen chair and placed it in the center of the floor, each leg within a circle of chalk.
    “Okay,” she whispered