Well, who’s become Old Tom’s little acolyte? I thought sourly.

“I am, too,” said Zebediah. “This is creepy.”

“No, you aren’t,” said Winifred.

“Yes, I am,” said Zebediah.

“You must stay, mustn’t he, Franny?” said Winifred. “Because I have always heard tell that a little boy must be part of the smudging. For full potency.”

“Hogwash,” said Gladys. “I never heard anything so silly.”

“Oh, look who’s talking silly,” said Winifred. “Stay ten minutes, Zebediah, and I’ll read you a chapter of The Young Man’s Flight Manual.”

“Two chapters,” said Zebediah.

“One,” said Winifred.

“One and a half.”

“All right. Now I have to go take my bath. You stay and smudge.”

“I don’t want to be here all alone,” said Zebediah.

“You aren’t, you little twit. You have Franny and Sina and Gladys.”

“I mean the only one of our family smudging.”

“Don’t be rude. You’re representing the family,” said Winifred. “It’s a great honor.” And she hightailed it upstairs to search for the letter again.

We did one more circuit around the dining room table, but I could tell that Gladys was running out of speed.

“Well, that’s that,” said Sina. “If there was a ghost, he’s had a good smudging now. Let’s sprinkle a little cinnamon around and call it a night.”

“NO!” I cried, wanting to buy more time for Winifred, and then was startled when Gladys cried “NO!” too.

“I am getting vibrations!” she said.

“Ghostly vibrations?” I asked, goose bumps coming out all over my arms. Despite the current fun and games, it really had been the most chilling experience.

“No. Psychic vibrations, and they’re coming from…” Gladys spun in a circle looking at each of us in turn, her eyes all scrunched up as if in deep concentration or communing with the beyond. “From YOU!” She pointed at Sina suddenly. Sina gave a little yip and shuffled back a foot.

“Yes, you are emanating particularly strongly right now,” Gladys said, nodding. “It’s an excellent time to do a reading.”

“A reading of what?” asked Sina, taking the burning herbs out of Gladys’s hand and putting them in the fireplace before we accidentally burned the house down.

“Your emanations,” said Gladys.

“What is this going to cost me?” asked Sina, looking at Gladys skeptically.

“I’m hurt, I truly am,” said Gladys, pulling up a dining room chair and sitting down. “Do you think I would charge my own dear employer for a spiritual service?”

“Well, I would think so, yes,” said Sina. “But if you say it’s free, then why not?”

Zebediah and I pulled up chairs, too. This was less creepy but more thrilling than the smudging.

“Now,” said Gladys, “give me your hands.”

“Do I have to?” asked Sina.

“Don’t you know anything?” asked Gladys, forgetting to be charming and just being her old snotty self.

“Well, yes, I think I know some things. You must forgive me if I’m not up on the latest hoodoo-voodoo,” said Sina, who could give as good as she got.