“Hands!” snapped Gladys.

So Sina put her hands in Gladys’s.

The atmosphere was, as they say, charged. Between the smoke, which still hung in the air, the wind roaring through the pine trees, the sound of the surf crashing, the dark house—we had yet to light the coal lanterns and were still burning the dinner candles—and our own taut, creeped-out faces, it was quite the dramatic setting. In such an environ do ghosts appear. I was keeping a sharp eye out.

“State your full name,” said Gladys in sepulchral tones.

“Do I have to?” asked Sina.

“Name!” snapped Gladys. This constant leapfrogging from psychic mystery woman to snot bucket was very disorienting.

I could see it was throwing Sina off balance because she spat out “Thomasina Maria Whitekraft” obediently.

“Thomasina Maria, I have three things to tell you. First, your gift and it is a gift is that you have no idea how beautiful you are. Remember, this is a gift. Your great shining beauty and your unawarity.”

“I don’t think ‘unawarity’ is a word,” I said.

“Hush,” said Sina. “I think she may know what she’s doing after all. Go on.”

“Second, you have great talent. You are likewise unaware of this.”

I noticed she didn’t use “unawarity” again and counted this a victory.

Sina, although I’m sure she tried not to, preened.

“Third, UFOs will be trying to contact you via the radio. This is most important, most important…” And then Gladys scared the bejesus out of us by fluttering her eyelids and fainting, sliding off her chair and falling right to the floor.

Sina leapt up, but at the same time Winifred could be heard crashing down the stairs, taking them, as was her wont, two at a time.

“I found it! I found it! And what the blue blazes does this mean, you little snake?” she cried, bursting into the dining room and holding up over her head, for all to see, a piece of paper with four words written in block letters: NOW IS THE TIME.

SECRETS

“Give that to me!” shouted Zebediah, standing on his chair in an attempt to reach the paper and lunging for it.

This caused his chair to tip over and fall on Gladys, who hollered, “OW! Did you not just see me fall into a deadly swoon from the strength of the emanations? Have a little respect!”

“Stop that right now and get up,” said Sina. “It’s time we all went to bed.”

Gladys started to get up, but Winifred and Zebediah, who were fighting tooth and claw above her in a way I had never before seen, a no-holds-barred, fingernail-digging and hair-pulling free-for-all, suddenly fell directly on top of her. Gladys screamed bloody murder as you’d expect, but oddly this didn’t penetrate either Zebediah’s or Winifred’s rage—they continued pummeling each other directly on top of her, creating so much noise that Old Tom came running downstairs, followed by Wilfred, and between the two of them they managed to separate Zebediah and Winifred, who, although they were pinioned, continued to lash out at each other while Gladys shouted, “What about me?”