Slow Dance in Purgatory

“This is boring,” Derek burped. “That Shad kid is full of shit. I’ll bet he was pulling our chains all along.” He stood and approached his sulking girlfriend. He offered her a wine cooler, gallantly opening it for her and taking the first sip. After a few minutes they were giggling and kissing, all contention dissolved in cheap liquor and teenage lust.

After a few minutes, Tasha and Trevor had paired off, along with the other couple who had come. The Ouija board was forgotten for the moment as the party took a different turn. It wasn’t until a half hour or more had gone by, and the group was well on its way to being extremely drunk, that one of the football players, bored and girlfriend-less, decided to ask his own questions.

He giggled to himself as he asked a couple of lewd questions and got appropriately lewd responses. He fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, using one of the low burning candles, rationalizing that if anyone smelled smoke in the big auditorium on Monday, they would never know who to blame. He took a deep drag and blew it out happily.

“Why didn’t anybody bring food, man? I’m starving,” he grumbled, leaning back over the Ouija board and trying to think of something else to ask. Maybe he would try to get a name out of the ghost. He wasn’t convinced there wasn’t one. Maybe Tasha just didn’t have the touch.

“Who are you?” He asked, tapping his ashes on the slippery floor. The dial started to slowly respond.

“Hey guys, I think it’s gonna give us a name!” he called out. But no one seemed especially interested in the ghost anymore. One of the football players was snoring loudly from the carpeted steps rimming the stage. The lone player finished his cigarette as the letters slowly spelled out….”

“We got a R, then an O. Hmmm. R-O-G…..” He tossed the butt aside, his eyes fixed on the board in front of him. Two more letters and the dial slid to a stop.

“Who the hell is Roger?” he puzzled, raising his voice in question.

The curtains behind him whooshed suddenly, making the sound a low flying plane makes as it passes overhead. A column of fire engulfed the alcohol soaked fabric and greedily lapped up the trail of harder liquor spilled across the stage. The curtains were old and dry, providing ideal fodder for the hungry flames. Another section of curtain ignited, and the inebriated students ran screaming and stumbling for the exit doors. Derek tripped over his sleeping teammate and slapped him awake, pulling Dara out behind him. With a quick glance around he assured himself that everyone was out.

***

Shad eventually managed to wedge his stocking clad foot in between the lid and the base of his phone, opening it and sending a ray of blue light gleaming up at him from the bottom of the locker.

“Hallelujah, and praise the Lord,” he celebrated briefly. He was sweating profusely, and he wiped his face against his tee-shirt clad shoulder that was smashed in to the back of the locker. Now came the really tough part. Maggie was on speed dial. If he could use a fine enough touch with his big toe he might be able to ring her up. Of course, he would have to press the speaker button too if she had any chance of hearing him.

Grunting and holding his breath, he punched at the keypad awkwardly. If only he could get his sock off! It created a floppy mess at his toes, making dialing impossible. Sliding his left foot to his right foot, he bore down on the floppy end of the sock and pulled. Little by little, wedging the excess sock under his other foot, and pulling in inch long increments, he was finally able to pull his bare foot free.

“You are Mr. Elastic Shadrach,” he told himself exuberantly. ‘Now we dial…” He stabbed at the buttons with his toes, managing to shut the phone three times and having to maneuver it back open each time. He managed to depress the speaker button, and then with another little stab, not too hard, not too soft, he got an audible ringing. From what he could see of the little display, the phone was calling Maggie.

“Please answer, please answer, please answer,” Shad begged. She didn’t answer. Groaning in frustration, his muscles shaking with exertion, he punched at the redial button with his cramping big toe.

Calling Maggie…..Calling Maggie…..Calling Maggie…..

“Hello?” Maggie’s voice had never sounded so good. No voice had ever sounded so good.

“Maggie!” Shad screamed. “Can you hear me?”

“Uh, yeah, Shad. Take me off speaker! You sound like you’re in a tin can!”

Shad burst into hysterical laughter. “You have no idea how close that is to the truth. Maggie! You have to come to the school, ASAP! You gotta get me out of here– “

Shad’s phone sounded that series of cascading tones that lets the owner know the battery is almost dead.

“Shad! I didn’t catch the last part. Did you say you’re at the school?” Maggie pressed her own phone to her head, trying to hear Shad through the waterfall of tones beeping in her ear.

Shad shouted down at his phone, his muscles quaking, and his voice cracking.