Siri had asked to meet there on a hunch. Although he still didn’t really understand his relationship with the spirits, he’d been on whirlwind tours through the Otherworld. He’d spoken with the dead the way a drunk in a bar might strike up a conversation with another drunk. He’d done everything he could to hone his skills as a shaman but still he considered himself an amateur. And since his ornery spirit guide, Auntie Bpoo, had gone off-line, he was finding himself out of touch with all those gossips who could make sense of this mission. The site of a mass suicide seemed like a perfect spot to reconnect with the spirit world.

He took a chance and removed the lucky talisman from around his neck and handed it to Beer. Its function was mainly to ward off snide attacks from the phibob, the malevolent spirits of the forest. But he didn’t know whether the charm might block out other channels. He needed to see if anything remained in the other dimension of the plot of land.

Beer sat on a stump and watched as Siri walked across the barren earth and sat cross-legged at its center. The doctor scooped up dirt in both hands, closed his eyes, and started to hum the tune to “Parlez-Moi d’Amour,” which had been one of his favorites in Paris. There was no spiritual element to it. In fact he clearly had no idea what he was doing but evocation had never been his strongest hand. After a couple of minutes it was becoming embarrassing. He opened his eyes, but all he saw was Beer on a tree stump, now joined by an elderly woman. He stood, dropped the dirt, and brushed his hands together.

And then he saw something else. It was a brief vision, electronic, as if his palms were electrodes and he was being charged somehow. Amid the buzz that shrouded him he saw creatures dancing, close, as if he were stuck in the middle of a popular discotheque dance floor. They were not human, but neither were they beasts. They were dressed in brilliant colors but their faces were white as chalk. They were drunk and raucous and clumsy but when they bumped into him he felt nothing. Within seconds it was all over.

He was a little unsteady on his feet as he walked over to the couple watching him.

“Did it work?” Beer asked.

“Not sure,” said Siri, turning to the woman. “An?”

She gave him an old-fashioned nop greeting and he returned it. He and she were of that same generation when it was still polite to offer a prayer to a new acquaintance. The years had not been kind to her face but she had a fine head of silver hair and her spine was straight.

“Were you looking for spirits, Doctor?” she asked.