Alta’s social finesse, she admired it. “Alta was the best of us,” my mother said. “She was the one who showed the most promise. We never got over losing her. We were less of a family after that.”
I N THE WEEKS BEFORE H ALLOWEEN IN 1929, when Alta was twelve and Bessie sixteen, the two girls, along with the rest of their family, sat in Sunday School one afternoon while the bishop railed against the danger of Ouija boards and other spiritualist trappings. The Mormons had a special calling to be on guard against spiritualism, the bishop said. More than most people, the Saints understood that spirits were real. It had been a spirit, after all, in the form of the Angel Moroni, who had led Joseph Smith to the golden plates at the start of their religion, and in the generations since, spirits had made themselves manifest to the Mormons a thousand times, in a thousand ways. But some spirits, the bishop warned, were like some people: troubled and ignoble. They might reach for the living through such means as Ouija boards or séances, but any such occult connection would be the work of Satan. Once such a spirit was in a person’s life, it could lead him or her wayward—to unredeemable sins, or even a horrible death. The bishop personally knew of youngMormon men who had gone astray. They had tried to contact the dead, but they had raised something evil instead, and one or two of them had been found nailed to the wall, their hair turned shock-white, a Ouija board under their feet.
Have fun with Halloween, concluded the bishop. Dress up and scare yourselves silly. But remember that you are Saints, and Saints do not invite Satan’s spirits into their home.
A week or so later, Bessie, Alta, and the others were down on Provo’s Center Street, shopping for decorations for a Halloween party, when Bessie found a Ouija board in a five-and-dime store. She bought it, hid it in her shopping bag with some other items, and sneaked it home. Late that night, after the parents had gone to sleep, Bessie and Alta lit a candle in the girls’ bedroom. They sat cross-legged next to each other on the floor and put the Ouija board on their knees. The others sat up in bed to see what they were doing. Patta joined Bessie and Alta, but Mary was indignant. “What are you doing?” she said. “You know what the bishop said. Do you want to bring the devil into our house?”
Wanda started to whimper. “I’m going to go tell Mother.”
Bessie glared up at her. “You’ll do no such thing, unless you want a good slapping.”
Bessie turned back to Alta and Patta. The three of them placed their fingertips on the heart-shaped planchette that rested on the board. Their sisters stood around watching, frightened and transfixed at the same time. “What do we say?” asked Patta.
Bessie looked at Alta and shrugged. Alta shut her eyes tight, tilted her head back, and intoned: “Is there anybody there?”
The room was quiet. Everybody watched the planchette. After a few moments it began to move, with the girls’ fingers resting on it. Slowly, jerkily, it inched to the Ouija board’s corner, to the word YES .
Bessie, Patta, and Alta looked at each other, eyes wide. They’d made contact. No prayer had ever been answered so quickly or so palpably.
Alta closed her eyes again and asked: “Who are you?”
More quickly this time, the planchette moved over the board’s single letters, spelling out its reply: I-A-M-A-D-E-A-D-I-N-D-I-A-N.
“A dead
Indian?”
said Bessie.
At that point, the girls heard a ghostly wail that scared the hell out of them all. It was Wanda, trembling and crying. Before anybody could stop her, she bolted out of the room, screaming.
Melissa may have been hard of hearing, but not that hard. Shestormed into the bedroom and saw the Ouija board on her daughters’ laps. “What,” she said, “have you brought into my house?”
Nobody said a word.
Melissa turned on Alta. “I might expect this from Patta and Bessie,” she
I N THE WEEKS BEFORE H ALLOWEEN IN 1929, when Alta was twelve and Bessie sixteen, the two girls, along with the rest of their family, sat in Sunday School one afternoon while the bishop railed against the danger of Ouija boards and other spiritualist trappings. The Mormons had a special calling to be on guard against spiritualism, the bishop said. More than most people, the Saints understood that spirits were real. It had been a spirit, after all, in the form of the Angel Moroni, who had led Joseph Smith to the golden plates at the start of their religion, and in the generations since, spirits had made themselves manifest to the Mormons a thousand times, in a thousand ways. But some spirits, the bishop warned, were like some people: troubled and ignoble. They might reach for the living through such means as Ouija boards or séances, but any such occult connection would be the work of Satan. Once such a spirit was in a person’s life, it could lead him or her wayward—to unredeemable sins, or even a horrible death. The bishop personally knew of youngMormon men who had gone astray. They had tried to contact the dead, but they had raised something evil instead, and one or two of them had been found nailed to the wall, their hair turned shock-white, a Ouija board under their feet.
Have fun with Halloween, concluded the bishop. Dress up and scare yourselves silly. But remember that you are Saints, and Saints do not invite Satan’s spirits into their home.
A week or so later, Bessie, Alta, and the others were down on Provo’s Center Street, shopping for decorations for a Halloween party, when Bessie found a Ouija board in a five-and-dime store. She bought it, hid it in her shopping bag with some other items, and sneaked it home. Late that night, after the parents had gone to sleep, Bessie and Alta lit a candle in the girls’ bedroom. They sat cross-legged next to each other on the floor and put the Ouija board on their knees. The others sat up in bed to see what they were doing. Patta joined Bessie and Alta, but Mary was indignant. “What are you doing?” she said. “You know what the bishop said. Do you want to bring the devil into our house?”
Wanda started to whimper. “I’m going to go tell Mother.”
Bessie glared up at her. “You’ll do no such thing, unless you want a good slapping.”
Bessie turned back to Alta and Patta. The three of them placed their fingertips on the heart-shaped planchette that rested on the board. Their sisters stood around watching, frightened and transfixed at the same time. “What do we say?” asked Patta.
Bessie looked at Alta and shrugged. Alta shut her eyes tight, tilted her head back, and intoned: “Is there anybody there?”
The room was quiet. Everybody watched the planchette. After a few moments it began to move, with the girls’ fingers resting on it. Slowly, jerkily, it inched to the Ouija board’s corner, to the word YES .
Bessie, Patta, and Alta looked at each other, eyes wide. They’d made contact. No prayer had ever been answered so quickly or so palpably.
Alta closed her eyes again and asked: “Who are you?”
More quickly this time, the planchette moved over the board’s single letters, spelling out its reply: I-A-M-A-D-E-A-D-I-N-D-I-A-N.
“A dead
Indian?”
said Bessie.
At that point, the girls heard a ghostly wail that scared the hell out of them all. It was Wanda, trembling and crying. Before anybody could stop her, she bolted out of the room, screaming.
Melissa may have been hard of hearing, but not that hard. Shestormed into the bedroom and saw the Ouija board on her daughters’ laps. “What,” she said, “have you brought into my house?”
Nobody said a word.
Melissa turned on Alta. “I might expect this from Patta and Bessie,” she
Similar Books
