Page 63 of Ghostly

“She showed up.”

“Okay.” Perry didn’t sound impressed. “Can she, uh, show up for me?”

“No one else can see or hear Ida. She’s here, right now. She’s perched on the coffee table.” Gabriel swept his hand at her.

“Right. And you can see her because you two share some special bond? Is this a kinky thing?”

Gabriel coughed.

“Oh, fine,” Ida said. “If he won’t believe it, the standard ghost stuff should do.” She closed her eyes; behind her eyelids, the light flickered, and electricity coursed through her.

“Whoa, what the hell, dude,” Perry whispered.

Carefully, Ida reached toward him, hovered her hand above his arm, and passed it through.

Perry yelped and drew his arm back.

“Enough,” Gabriel said. “We don’t need to scare him. Only make him believe.”

Perry stared at his arm, then at the lights—now working fine. “O-okay, but, how do I know these aren’t tricks? Like in fake haunted houses?”

Ida knocked on the table three times.

“Wire. Connected to your leg,” Perry said.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Gabriel raked his hand through his hair.

“The paper!” Ida remembered. “Gabriel, look, the paper!” She pointed to the scrawl of her name.

He picked it up and looked at her. “You wrote this?”

“This would’ve been hella easier to digest if you didn’t keep talking to the air,” Perry said.

“I controlled a pen. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Can you do it again?”

“Maybe.” She would, to get Perry to believe.

Gabriel explained their plan to Perry, and Ida focused on the pen. Perry stared at the paper, half-curious, half-wary.

The pen lifted from the table.

“Holy f—” Perry nearly overturned the couch as he jumped back. Slowly, straining for every inch, Ida guided the pen.I—easy. ADthat looked more like anO, but close enough.Awas the hardest. She drew an arch, then, with her energy almost depleted, ran a line through the middle, accidentally crossing part of theDin the process.

“Invisible writing trick,” Perry said.

“Oh, come on!” Ida put her hands against her hips.

“How about this. You say a word, she’ll write it,” Gabriel suggested. “I’ll give you another piece of paper—”

“Nah, wait.” Perry reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crinkled Gamestop receipt. “I don’t trust your thingies. Write it here. And write ‘demitasse’.”

“Seriously?” Gabriel mimicked Ida’s position.

“I won my school’s spelling bee on it.” Perry leaned back and spread his arms on the backrest.

“Demitasse it is.” Ida grabbed the pen and concentrated. One by one, shaky-lined letters emerged.