The Ghost Chronicles (24 page)

“That works for me. Say around seven? I’ll email you the directions.”

I hung up the phone. As far as I was concerned, this was going to be a great case. But how the hell was I going to tell Maureen that we’d be investigating the source of strange lights at a “pole-dancing” studio?

Leaving out a few details, I convinced Maureen to go along. So after the radio show on Friday, we had a quick bite to eat and left in Maureen’s car for our trip to Quincy, Massachusetts. We followed the directions Jeff had emailed me and in about an hour we arrived at the studio. We parked next to a blue compact car and were immediately greeted by Jeff.

“Hey, Ron and Maureen, glad you could make it. This is my neighbor Rob,” he said, nodding in the direction of the tall man pulling some type of equipment from the trunk of his car. “Rob’s an engineer,” he continued. “He works with particle-measuring devices.”

“That’s neat. Where is this place?” I replied.

“Just follow me,” Jeff said, as he led us through a small wooden door into the old brick mill building. Once inside we followed him up three flights of stairs, but my eyes were drawn to the black and pink walls adorned with boas, hats, and bordello-type decorations.

Before we had the chance to enter the studio, a scantily clad woman with short auburn hair rushed out to greet us at the top of the stairs. Her lily-white skin was a stark contrast to the thighhigh black boots and black miniskirt. “Hi, I’m Wendy. Welcome to Gypsy Rose Dance Studio,” she said in a bubbly voice.

“Hi, Wendy, I’m Ron and this is Maureen, our psychic investigator.”

“Hey,” Maureen said, looking a little uncomfortable.

Wendy looked from Maureen to me and said, “Has Jeff told you what’s been going on?”

“Well, I saw the video and it’s pretty cool,” I replied.

“What video, Ron?” Maureen asked, her voice rising an octave.

Not even giving me a chance to answer, Wendy spoke up. “You know this a pole-dancing studio, don’t you? I tape all my classes and rehearsals and when I do, I get these little lights that dance
along with me. They’re really neat. If you want I can show you the video while the boys set up the cameras. By the way, Maureen, do you want a costume? I’m sure I have one in your size.”

Heat rose in Maureen’s face and her eyes flicked from person to person, as if there wasn’t a place big enough for her to hide. “Costume? Nah, I think I’ll pass. But thanks anyway.”

Maureen in a costume!
I thought. In all the years I have worked with Maureen, I have never thought of her in a sexual way. Maybe a partner, a friend, and even a sister. But definitely not as an object of sexual desire. I was as happy as she was when she declined.

I walked by Jeff and Rob, who were setting up the camcorder, and continued to the far side of the studio. I blinked. My eyes needed to adjust to the hot pink walls and several wall-size mirrors that made the room appear bigger than it actually was. Two metal dancing poles ran from the hardwood floor to the suspended ceiling.

“Okay, guys, I’m ready when you are.” Wendy strutted over to the boom box she had left on the floor in the right-hand corner of the room. “I’m going to start dancing like in the video. If you accidentally catch a glimpse of ‘something,’ and I don’t mean paranormal, I apologize in advance.” She smiled, then asked again, “Are we ready to go?” As if receiving the acknowledgment she was waiting for, she placed the CD in the player and pressed the button.

* * *

A lump formed in my throat as I looked at Ron and the other guys, their eyes glued to Wendy, barely blinking as if they were afraid to miss out on “something.” Almost immediately her body began swaying with the beat, pulsating to the point where she and the music became one. We watched intently as she twisted, twirled,
and spun around the brass poles to the heavy beat of the music. Each move, each thrust of her body, made me feel more and more uncomfortable. In my mind, I knew she wasn’t a stripper, but for the life of me, I had begun to feel like the only woman, a voyeur if you will, at a strip joint, while men drooled at the abundance of bare flesh.

Wendy dances to the beat of the music in an attempt to excite the spirits.

Ron peered into the viewfinder of the camcorder. “Oh, I’m seeing something,” he said over the pounding of the music. “It’s the light anomalies, they’re back.”

I glanced at Jeff, with Rob peering over his shoulder. Jeff acknowledged seeing them with a nod of his head and a thumbs up. Well, I think that was what he was signaling.

Ron removed the EMF meter from his red duffel bag, gingerly stepping further into the room as if not wanting to disturb the sensuous performance of our host.

The EMF meter blinked sporadically, and the CD quickly ended.

“Hey, Ron, take a look at this,” Jeff said, pointing to the camera’s viewfinder. “Don’t they look like the orbs in the video?”

Ron bent over to take a closer look at the small LCD screen and said, “Yeah, kind of, but not nearly as bright.”

“Rob and I are going to try some experiments to see if we can reproduce them,” Jeff continued.

“Great idea. Wendy, can you dance again for us?” Ron asked.

My back stiffened and I glared at Ron. I had just endured seeing more of Wendy than her gynecologist had and I wasn’t looking forward to another round. As if Ron was reading my mind, he said, “Come on, lighten up, will ya? It’s all in the name of science.”

Science, my ass.

She smiled, and it looked genuine enough. “Sure,” she replied, as she put another CD in the player.

She began to move in sync with the music. In one quick motion she flipped herself upside down, wrapped her legs around the pole, and spun like a corkscrew to the floor.

Jeff and Rob started their experiment, dropping bits of dust in front of the lens, in an attempt to “debunk” the light anomalies on the video.

Wendy completed her dance routine. Curious as to the results of Jeff and Rob’s experiment we hurried over to take a look. Ron and I waited as Jeff rewound the camcorder, and then replayed it for us. Jeff glanced at a sheet of paper where
he’d written down the exact timing of each anomaly and when they occurred, then stopped at the first sequence of numbers. “Here, you see this.” He pointed to the LCD screen. “It’s a little difficult to see, but we were able to reproduce an orb similar to what Wendy got on her video.”

Ron and I took another step closer to the video recorder. “You may have been able to recreate the orb, but no way is it reacting the same way as they did in Wendy’s video.” Ron looked at Jeff again, and continued. “You think? I mean, in Wendy’s video the light anomalies cascaded around the pole.”

Jeff thumbed through the remaining sequence of numbers that he’d noted earlier, and when done he said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean, we proved that dust can make the same orbs, but they are definitely not moving in the same manner.”

Moments later, Jeff and Rob began to check on the results of the particle-measuring devices that they had previously set up.

Suddenly the air shifted, the atmosphere thickened. It was almost touchable, electrified. “Ah, Ron, I think someone’s joining us.”

Ron looked at his silent EMF meter. “Really? Well, I’m not getting anything,” he said as he stuffed the meter in the front pocket of his Dockers, went over to one of the poles and started spinning around it, mimicking Wendy’s moves.

I began to pick up on sexual energy that was not my own. Ewwww, there was a spirit becoming attracted to Ron. “Ah, someone likes you,” I said.

He smiled.

“But it’s a man,” I said as Ron’s smile faded away to near panic.

Just then, in mid-twirl on the pole, the EMF meter went off in his pants’ pocket. Through the pale fabric, the constant red glow of the EMF meter told the story.

“Is that a ghost you’re picking up on, or are you just happy to see me?” I laughed out loud.

As I struggled to control my laughter, I said, “I caught a glimpse of a tall black man with a funny hat. He’s telling me he likes to come to the studio to listen to the music and watch Wendy dance.”

“Like a pimp?” Ron asked.

“No, more like a transvestite.” The second I said “transvestite,” the intensity of the energy escalated, growing stronger and stronger by the minute, as if the spirit knew I’d recognized he was there. My third eye vibrated. Pulsated.

“Can you channel him?” Ron asked.

“Give me a minute.” I closed my eyes, blocking out my visual sense, and forced myself to concentrate on the black man who was rapidly approaching. In the quiet of my mind, I asked him to tell me what it was that he wanted.

He answered my question. A visual of Ron twirling around the pole stood in the forefront of my mind, and with it an overwhelming feeling of desire. “Gross! Sorry, Ron. No, no, no, no. No way. I have my limits.” I shivered inwardly. Like the shaking of an Etch-a-Sketch, I struggled to erase my mind of the spirit’s desires. “Ewww. Nothing personal, Ron, but he really likes you, if you know what I mean. And that, my friend, is more than I want to see.”

Ron thought about that for a second, then said, “Okay if you don’t want to channel him, let’s try something else. How about doing a contact circle?” Ron asked.

“Well, as long as I don’t have to channel him, I’m good with it.”

Ron turned to Wendy, “Want to try it?”

“Sure, how’s it work?”

“Okay let’s all sit in a circle on the floor, hold hands, and try to make contact as a group.” Now sitting, Ron said, “All right, Maureen, can you begin?”

Using the method I’d learned when I was sixteen to help get myself and others into a relaxed state, I counted down. I started from twenty-one, counting backward all the way down to one. Lastly, I lowered my voice and finished by counting us down through the colors of the rainbow, “Ten-red, six-yellow, five-blue, three-green…” I inhaled then exhaled, sensing that everyone was ready to make communication. I said, “If there is a spirit here, please give us a sign.”

Over the whir of the camcorder the silence was deafening.

“If there are any spirits here please give us a sign of your presence,” Ron’s voice echoed my previous question.

Suddenly, there was a bang. It sounded like it was coming from the door directly behind us, in the adjacent room. Ron jumped to his feet, ran over to the door, and pushed it open. He quickly snapped a photo with his 35mm. “There’s no one there,” Ron said as he scrambled back to the circle.

“Ron, I’m really not feeling a presence anymore,” I said.

Not ready to call it a night, he said, “Come on, Wendy, Maureen, let’s go into the other room where we heard the bang and see if we can use your pendulum there to get some questions answered.”

Reluctantly I followed Ron and Wendy into her side parlor, a place where people could take a respite on soft cushiony chairs while others danced. We dragged three chairs over the black and white linoleum and small scatter rugs and placed them in a small circle. As we sat in the dark, once again the door made the same noise as before.

Jeff, having heard the noise at the same time we did, closed the distance between us and the other room. He commented, “Hey guys, I think that sound may be coming from the heating system.”

“That makes sense. We’ve seen similar phenomenon on other investigations, and on some occasions it turned out to be a vacuum or the heat turning on,” Ron said, flipping the on switch to his EMF meter.

I held my pendulum tightly between my thumb and forefinger as we asked questions of the spirit. Nothing. “I don’t think he’s here either.”

In an attempt to liven up the moment, Wendy jumped to her feet, “Hey would you guys like to see a trick?”

“A trick?” I said, almost afraid to ask.

Like flies to flypaper, the second the guys heard the word “trick” they dropped what they were doing and rushed to her side. I wanted to laugh. I don’t think I would have gotten this type of reaction from them if I’d just yelled “Fire!”

“We’re men of science.” Ron’s grin widened again, and this time I thought his face would crack. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

Wendy took a crisp twenty-dollar bill out of her pocketbook, and then turned to her mesmerized audience. “Now watch,” she commanded. She folded the bill lengthwise and placed it on the chair. “Without the use of my hands I will pick up this twenty-dollar bill,” she said. Turning her back to the chair, she glanced over her shoulder as if calculating her stance. Wendy adjusted her miniskirt. In one quick motion she sat down on the chair, and bounced back up.

“What’s the trick?” Ron asked.

She smiled. “This,” she said, as she reached her right hand between her butt cheeks and pulled out the twenty-dollar bill. She waved it in the air, like an honor guard raising a flag in a parade.

She walked over to me. “Maureen, would you like to try it?” Without waiting for an answer, she said, “Look, I’ll even make it sanitary.” Wendy took the twenty-dollar bill, unfolded it, then folded it in the opposite direction. “There, now it’s all ready for you.”

I felt the heat rising in my cheeks. “No, that’s okay…”

Jeff, not one to refuse a challenge, jumped at the chance. Within seconds he was standing with his back to the chair. “So what do I do?”