Meeting Beyond

Mollie trailed up the steps of the town house behind her great aunt Susie, gritting her teeth and wishing she were anywhere else, as Susie pressed the doorbell. She winced as Auntie Susie began to rap on the door with the imposing brass knocker almost immediately.

   “Give it a moment,” she protested. “They haven’t had a chance to come to the door yet.”

   “No time like the present,” said Auntie Susie, her little black button eyes gleaming in her soft, wrinkled face. “At my age, there’s no time to waste.”

Mollie glanced up at the elegant façade of the old house. It had been built in the last century for someone of wealth and good taste. Now a discreet neon sign glowed in the bay window to the right of the front door, advertising Madame Elenora, “Clairvoyant and Communicator”.

   “You want me to go where with Auntie Susie to what?” she had said incredulously to her mother Freda the day before.

   “I know, I know,” said Freda wearily. “She’s got her mind set on it. Auntie Susie’s friend Hettie at the Senior Day Center recommended Madame Elenora. According to the staff, she and Hettie almost came to blows over it. Susie’s determined to prove that it’s all a fraud because she’s afraid this woman’s milking Hettie for money.”

   “Mother, I know you feel you can’t say no to Auntie Susie since she raised you after Grandmother died giving birth to you, but this is ridiculous.”  

   “Sweetie, I know, but I have to work overtime tonight, and Dad won’t be back till the weekend. The only thing worse than her going would be her going unsupervised. You know that Auntie Susie can get into a surprising amount of trouble for a little old lady.”

They looked at each other and laughed.

  “Okay, okay,” said Mollie. “Guilt trip accomplished. I accept the mission, but you owe me big time.”

A short woman in a maid’s uniform, complete with frilly apron and headband, opened the door. Feeling as if she were in an Agatha Christie novel, Mollie followed Auntie Susie into a dimly lit hallway, her feet sinking into deep carpet.  She and Susie entered the room that the maid indicated. A soft murmur of conversation rose from the group seated around an oval table in the middle of the room. The soft lamplight touched on heavy gilt picture frames and winked off the elaborate chandelier above the table. A woman rose, smiling.

    “Welcome,” she said. “I am Madame Elenora.”

Mollie nodded politely as she guided Auntie Susie, who was almost quivering with excitement, to a chair and sat down beside her. Mollie had half expected Madame Elenora to have a turban and brocade robes, but she was wearing a plain black dress. Madame Elenora resumed her seat and cleared her throat. The conversation ceased and heads turned expectantly towards her.

   “Good evening. I am here to help you communicate with those who have gone before. I am aware that there are sceptics among us, but I ask you to entrust me with this most important task. First, let us go around the table and explain who we are trying to reach and why.” She smiled kindly at the woman sitting on her right.

   “My name’s Wilma. I want to talk to my husband, late husband, that is,” said the woman, clutching her handbag tightly in her lap. “I’m trying to reach him because I found out after he died, he’d been carrying on with that blonde floozy barmaid at the Red Lion. I want to give him a piece of my mind.”

       “We may indeed have ambivalent feelings towards our dear departed,” said Madame Elenora, smoothly covering the awkward silence that followed. “Just bear in mind that the spirits may not be receptive if the atmosphere is too hostile. Next?”

Before Auntie Susie could say anything, an old man with a droopy sad face spoke up.

       “I want to speak to Rosie. I miss her very much. I want to tell her I am so sorry for getting angry when she chewed up my slippers. Oh, I’m Harold.”

       “I beg your pardon?” said Madame Elenora. “Chewed your slippers?”

The old man was embarrassed.

      “Yes, Rosie was my Great Dane. She was such a good dog. It’s alright, isn’t it? I mean, I didn’t think to ask if it was okay to talk to pets.”

Madame Elenora sighed and massaged her forehead.

    “Indeed,” she said. “I believe I am equal to the task. Next?”

Mollie felt Auntie Susie grab her arm and dared not meet her gaze for fear of laughing.

   “Well, my name’s Susie. “I want to talk to my sister Maggie. She died in childbirth and I raised her daughter Freda. She needs to know that Freda turned out fine and meet her granddaughter Mollie here.”

    “Maggie?” whispered Mollie, bemused, biting her tongue as Auntie Susie pinched her sharply.

Madame Elenora seemed to be on firmer footing with this situation. She graciously inclined her head. The maid materialized silently and dimmed the lights.

    “Thank you all. Now let us hold hands around the table, close our eyes and take some deep breaths.”

Mollie found herself holding Auntie Susie’s little paw in one hand and Harold’s rough, callused hand in the other.

    “Let us start with you, Wilma,” said Madame Elenora. “What was your husband’s name?”

    “Bob,” muttered Wilma.

    “How long were you married?”

    “Forty years, give or take. He’d run off from time to time, but he’d always come back with his tail between his legs. Don’t know whether the times he run off count.”  

     “Sounds like Rosie,” said Harold.

     “Excuse me, but my husband wasn’t no dog,” said Wilma indignantly.

       “Please,” said Madame Elenora. “I cannot concentrate with all this chitchat. Bob, are you there?”

 She closed her eyes and swayed. The room was very warm, and Mollie could smell incense. She jumped as Madame Elenora suddenly spoke loudly.

       “Hello? Yes, I will tell her. Wilma, Bob said to tell you he is sorry for all the times he let you down. That barmaid in the Red Lion meant nothing, and you were right, she was false in many ways. You were the love of his life.”

       “I knew it,” said Wilma with satisfaction. “Mutton dressed up as lamb. False teeth and a few other false bits and pieces.”

Madame Elnora turned towards Harold.

     “Harold, I see Rosie. She is running over a large field, through the wildflowers. She looks incredibly happy.”

 Harold stifled a sob and Mollie squeezed his hand sympathetically.

    “It’s all right, love,” he said. “That’s the way I want to think of her.”

Mollie felt Auntie Susie stiffen as Madame Elenora looked at her, closed her eyes and intoned: “Maggie, are you there?  Susie, Maggie is happy to know that Freda is well and to meet her granddaughter.”

Auntie Susie sprang out of her chair, marched over to the door and switched the lights on. Everyone blinked; she leaned across the table almost nose to nose with Madame Elenora.

    “Her name is not Maggie. I made that up now, which you would have known if you were truly clairvoyant. You are a nasty fraud preying on grieving people, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. I plan to tell my friend Hettie, so she does not waste another penny on you. Come on, Mollie.”

She marched out, Mollie hurrying behind. As they descended the front steps, Madame Elenora called after them.

   “She said no one can call her Maggie, except you. Everyone else must call her Margo.” The heavy front door slammed.

Auntie Susie froze in her tracks for a moment.  

“Her name really was Margo, wasn’t it?” said Mollie. "How would that woman know?"

“We are still going to tell Hettie that woman is nothing but a charlatan,” said Auntie Susie, walking on with determination.