Part 1

In a small town called Darvel, three friends were heading to the local sport centre to play some table tennis and long shooty, if they could blag their way into the sports hall with the twelve pounds between them.

“Awrite Ger, how much would you take for us to play TT for an hour?”, asked Allan.

“Awrite young Al, it’s fifteen pound per hour to hire the table tennis table, paddles and baws, you want booked in the next slot?”, asked the sport centre supervisor Gerry.

“Eh well heres the hing Ger, we don’t have that much between us, and we know no-one will be usin’ it for the rest of the day. Can we get it half price at least? It’s still money in your till”, said Allan – convincingly.

“Boys I really shouldny be dain this for ye, but it’s better yer in here than out runnin’ about the street”, replied Gerry.

Gerry stood up from his desk in reception and picked out two table tennis paddles and a handful of balls and handed them to Mike.

“Cheers Ger, yer a ledge mate”, said Mike.

The three boys made their way into the main hall where the table tennis table was already set up.

“Right, me and Ginger up first for a game and it’s winner stays on”, said Allan.

“Suits me”, said Ginger

“Fine, I’ll just practise sinkin’ this fitba tap bag then”, said Mike.

The boys played table tennis solid for two hours and Gerry nipped in and out the hall every now and again to challenge the boys to a game – he won every time, he must have been a pro in his previous life.

Gerry was a good guy, he looked after the boys that came to the sport centre every day and I guess the company kept him occupied, but it was his job at the end of the day so he had to look after the business as best he could.

Gerry came back into the hall and in typical fashion shouted,

“THAT’S YER TIIIIIIIMMME”,

As difficult as it was to accept that they had to leave, the boys underpaid the man and they got an extra hour out of it. They handed Gerry the paddles and balls back and sat in the reception area keeping Gerry company.

“So lads, who’s winchin’ these days?”, asked Gerry.

“I’ve got a girlfriend”, said Ginger.

“Oh aye, superb Ginger, I thought you would have been the last wan to get a bird. Huv ye done the business yet young man or you bein’ a wee shitebag?”, said Gerry.

Mike and Allan burst out laughing.

“What you boys laughin’ at? At least Ginger has a girlfriend”, said Gerry.

“Aha, clamped ya pair of dicks”, said Ginger.

They continued their conversation about the birds and the bees for another twenty minutes and then moved on to sports and then on to films they had watched recently.

“I watched a film the other night about a ouija board”, said Gerry.

“A whit board?”, asked Allan.

“A ouija board. It’s a way of communicating with the dead durin’ a séance”, replied Gerry.

“For real?”, asked Ginger.

“Oh aye, it’s the real deal. You can make yer own board. I done it once when I was younger and I have never done it since, it’s a terrifyin’ experience”, said Gerry.

“My maw told me aboot them, said she would kick my arse if she ever found out I tried it”, said Mike.

“I’m terrified of your maw by the way”, said Allan.

“Everyone is”, joked Gerry.

The three boys left the sport centre and made their way down the street before they separated to head home for their dinner.

“Listen lads, my maw and dad are away out the night to their pals hoose, which means ave got the house to myself. Dae you want tae try this ouija board?”, asked Mike.

Allan and Ginger just stood there, they did not know what to say.

“Come on boys, it will be a laugh. You canny honestly believe that the dead will talk tae us?”, said Mike.

“Right fine, what time dae you want us round?”, asked Allan.

“Any time after half-six will be fine, that’ll gie me a chance to get a board made up”, said Mike.

“Right, fair enough. I’m glad somebody knows whit there dain”, said Ginger.

The boys all made their way home for dinner before meeting at Mike’s later that evening.

* * *

That evening, Allan and Ginger met outside Mike’s house and had a quick catch up before they knocked on the door.

“Are you up for this the night?”, asked Allan nervously.

“I dunno man, I had a wee look on the internet and it’s mixed reviews. Some folk say they’ve had an awfa bad experience with it, others sayin’ it’s a load of shite”, replied Ginger.

“And whit dae you hink the outcome is gawny be?”, asked Allan.

“Prolly be a load of shite mate, for a start, there is nae chance he’s got a legit ouija board, and secondly, we don’t ken whit were dain”, said Ginger convincingly.

“Aye, aye you’re probably right mate. This will be a load of shite, nae chance it will even work”, said Allan.

Allan knocked on Mike’s door and was greeted with the usual Still Game patter.

“Oh, well if it isny Lambert and Butler”, said Mike.

“Shut it Mike, you’re the only fag in here”, replied Ginger quickly.

The boys all laughed making their way up the hall to Mike’s bedroom.

Mike had his bedroom all setup good and proper. The curtains were drawn closed, the main bedroom light was on the lowest dim setting, there were a handful of candles lit around the room, a small wooden table in the centre of the room, and there it was, a homemade ouija board sitting on the table.

“Whit the fuck man, did you just make that out a sheet of paper?”, asked Allan.

“Aye, whit dae ye hink ave just randomly got a fuckin’ ouija board kickin’ aboot, it will dae the job fine, I researched it on the internet”, said Mike.

“Oh great, you’ve known about a ouija board for the whole a two minutes and now you’re a fuckin’ expert cause you’ve read aboot it online”, said Allan.

“Woah, whits wae the attitude?”, said Mike.

“Ignore him mate, he’s a wee bit nervous about the whole situation”, said Ginger.

“Listen mate, if ye get too feart, I’ll fire Scooby-Doo on in the livin’ room”, said Mike laughing.

“Aye very good, lets get this done and dusted, then we’ll watch Scooby-Doo”, said Allan.

“Right, there is a list of rules though you need to read first so we’re all on the same page. Go have a swatch at my computer screen”, ordered Mike.

Allan and Ginger woke Mike’s computer screen up and the first thing on the screen were to rules for the use of a ouija board.

DIRECTIONS

1st – Place the board upon the centre of a table with a small glass on top. Place the fingers lightly but firmly, without pressure, upon the glass so as to allow it to move easily and freely. In from one to five minutes the glass will commence to move, at first slowly, then faster, and will then be able to talk or answer questions. The letters and numerals forming words and sentences will appear in the glass opening or lens.

2nd – Care should be taken that one person only should ask questions at a time, so as to avoid confusion, and the question should be put plainly and accurately.

3rd – To obtain the best results it is important that the persons present should concentrate their minds upon the matter in question and avoid other topics. Have no one at the table who will not sit seriously and respectfully. If you use it in a frivolous spirit, asking ridiculous questions, laughing over it, you naturally get undeveloped influence around you.

4th – The ouija is a great mystery, and we do not claim to give exact directions for its management, neither do we claim that at all times and under all circumstances it will work equally well. But we do claim and guarantee that with reasonable patience and judgement it will more than satisfy your greater expectation.

5th – The board should be kept smooth and free from dust and moisture, as all depends upon the case with which the feet of the table can glide over the surface of the board. Rubbing with a dry silk handkerchief just before using is advised.

William Fuld

“Fuckin’ hell, that might have been the longest book Ginger has ever read”, said Allan.

“Oh aye very good bawbag, ave read some Harry Potter I’ll have ye know”, Ginger said defensively.

“Right so are ye clear on what ye can and canny dae then?”, asked Mike.

“Aye, you can dae aw the talkin’ me n Potter will sit quietly and watch”, said Allan.

Mike started to put some salt down at the doorway and he closed the bedroom door.

“Whits wae the salt?”, asks Ginger.

“Accordin’ tae the internet, salt will stop demons or evil spirits from enterin’ the room. When we sit down, ye need to take a pinch of salt and throw it over yer shoulder as well”, said Mike.

“Gid, cause I don’t want anyhin’ enterin’ me”, said Ginger.

The three boys sat down around the table and took a pinch of salt and threw it over their shoulder as per Mike’s instruction. The nerves were starting to set in now, all the boys had that look of real fear in their eyes, there were no more witty comments or jokes being made now, just nervous energy.

Mike started with trying to contact his papa who passed away over one year ago.

“Hello, my name is Mike McGregor. I wish to speak to William McGregor, my papa, can you make a sign please”

The room was dead silent. Allan’s mouth had went bone dry and Ginger was staring around the room with his eyes wide open. Mike repeated,

“Hello, my name is Mike McGregor. I wish to speak to William McGregor, my papa, can you make a sign please”

The bedroom light started to flicker slightly and the boys simultaneously looked up, their hands still lightly but firmly on the glass. Then the light from the bulb left, there was no popping sound, the light just vanished.

The candles around the bedroom still provided enough light so the boys could see each others faces, but the flames started to flicker. Mike spoke again,

“Thank you for the sign. Can we ask you some questions?”

The room fell dead silent again, and the flames from the candles were still flickering, but now more violently. The temperature in the room began to drop and goosebumps started to form on the boys forearms. Then, unexpectedly, the glass began to move on the makeshift ouija board towards ‘YES’.

Tears were now running down Allan’s face and Ginger’s bottom lip was trembling at an alarming rate. Mike’s mouth was wide open, he could not believe this was working and he would be in conversation with his papa. Mike composed himself and started again,

“Am I speaking to my papa, William McGregor?”, Mike asked.

The glass moved from ‘YES’, and then returned slowly to ‘YES’. The relief on Mike’s face was clear to see. Allan and Ginger were starting to feel a little more at ease and more comfortable with the situation. Mike asked another question,

“What is like being in the afterlife?”

The glass moved across the board and spelt out the word, S-H-I-T-E.

The boys started to laugh, but without asking another question, the glass began to move around the board and the boys watched eagerly with grins on their face. The glass spelt out,

S-T-O-P-L-A-U-G-H-I-N-G

The three of them looked at each other, confused. They were not sure if this was a joke or a threat, and the glass started to glide across the board again,

Y-O-U-H-A-V-E-M-A-D-E-A-B-I-G-M-I-S-T-A-K-E

Mike’s bedroom was now eerily cold, two of the candle flames had blown out. The boys did not want to do this anymore.

Allan shot up from his seat, “I’m no dain this anymore, fuck this man, it’s went too far”, and made his way to the bedroom door, when suddenly, three loud bangs came from the other side of the door.

All the boys screamed out loud and ran to furthest wall from the door. They noticed two shadows at the foot of the door, someone’s feet. And then the shadows slowly crept away and footsteps could be heard walking down the hall.

The main light in the bedroom then came back to life. Mike, Allan and Ginger made a run for the door and out on to the street, all of the boys were in fits of tears, and they were looking frantically up and down the street. There was no sign of any person or being on the street.

“I canny go back in there boys, I canny, no myself”, Mike said crying.

“I’ll no be back in yer fuckin’ hoose again mate don’t you fuckin’ worry about that”, screamed Ginger.

“Aye no fuckin’ chance mate, that was too much, never again”, said Allan.

“Can I come to one of your houses for the night then? Come on man, ye canny let me go back in there myself”, begged Mike.

“Aye, just come tae mine, but don’t tell my maw you’re stayin’ or that, just say you’ve locked yer housekeys in the hoose and yer mum n dad will be hame later”, said Ginger.

The boys Mike and Ginger made their way to Ginger’s house and Allan turned round and sprinted as quick as he could home without stopping.