“Last time I wore handcuffs was 1988,” Ruth Anne said. “Spring Break in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.”

“Story, please!” Trinity said.

“A bunch of us got in a fight with a couple of Hells Angels,” Ruth Anne said. “We lost, but I got in my licks. When we finally got out of jail the next night, they bought us a case of beer and we partied on the beach until sunup.”

“You are a remarkable woman,” Carl said.

“Did you get that on tape?” Trinity asked Matt.

Ruth Anne blushed, allowed herself one final application of Blistex, and then snapped the cuffs shut around her right wrist, securing herself to Amy. “Feels like old times,” she said.

Matt and Trinity fussed over their equipment right until the last second, checking the viewfinders to make sure their shots were lined up and running around with Trinity’s Zippo lighting all the candles. Finally, Trinity sat down and handcuffed herself to Carl; Matt flitted from one camera to the other, pressed Record on each of them, and slid into the chair next to Trinity.

“The final trick,” he said, slipping Amy’s extended handcuff over his left wrist and snapping it shut. Because they were sitting across from each other, he and Amy had to stretch their arms across the tabletop. Then Matt stood his other cuff on the table, set his wrist into it, and used his beard to snap it shut. “Voilà!”

The circle was complete. Trinity raised her wrists and rattled them.

“We are locked down!” she said. “Everybody comfy?”

“I have to pee,” Amy said.

“Shut up,” Matt said.

“You’re sure this isn’t satanic?” Ruth Anne asked.

“It’s a nondenominational séance,” Trinity said.

“Just for pretend,” Matt said to Ruth Anne. “Like a Ouija board.”

“Now,” Trinity said, speaking over him, “we sit silently until I ask the spirits to talk to us. I guess? I don’t know. I’ve never done this before. Let’s just be quiet for a minute.”

No one said anything. There was the occasional scrape of handcuffs against wood and the jingle of chains as people adjusted themselves. Amy wanted to scratch her right side, but there wasn’t enough slack for her to reach from her left to her right without pulling Ruth Anne out of her chair. Slowly the handcuff noises settled, and then they all began listening to the great silent store.

Someone’s stomach rumbled and Amy tried hard not to laugh. She looked up and saw Trinity stifling a giggle and that put her over the edge.

“Sorry,” Carl said. “That’s me.”

“Get that man a meatball,” Amy said, which made Trinity laugh even harder.

“Sh!” Matt said. “We don’t have a lot of disc space.”

They quieted down for a minute, and this time the silence lasted for almost fifteen seconds. Then an unearthly moan filled the dining room display.

“OOOoooooo … .”