Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 OUIJA, OH OUIJA

   by Holly Rennick

   AUTHOR'S NOTES

   "Ouija" (pronounced: "wee-ja" or more commonly, "wee-jee") is derived
from the French "oui" and the German/Dutch "ja." In English, "yes-yes."
People prefer the affirmative.

   Ouija is played ("consulted" according to the instructions) on a board
containing the alphabet, numerals, YES, NO and GOOD BYE.  You can see one
at http://images.asstr.org/files/Authors/Holly_Rennick/OuijaBoard.jpg.

   A player asks a question and holds a pointer (commonly a pendulum) above
the board to divine the answer.  But what directs the response?  A
subconscious reflex, a.k.a.  the ideomoter effect?  A departed spirit? 
Don't ask me.  But to quote Galileo, "And yet it does move."

   I show a game of doubles at
http://images.asstr.org/files/Authors/Holly_Rennick/OuijaGame.jpg.  The
young woman has asked Ouija a question regarding sex.  The boy is
manipulating the answer.

   MONDAY

   "Hey, Dennis!  Guess what?"

   It was Marian.  I thought it silly to use the telephone when we could
see each other through our living room windows.

   Marian was one years, five months and eleven days older and into the
ways of high school.  Some girls that old might ignore their neighbor
because he's too little, but not Marian McCall.  We'd always been buddies.
Besides, I wasn't that little, height-wise, anyway.

   "What?" I'd already made a guess, though.  She got a new doll.  Most
girls quit collecting dolls before high school, but they didn't have an
uncle who went all over the world installing printing presses.  Marian had
a doll from every country that had a newspaper.  Not Russia, though,
because they don't have a free press.

   Marian knew I'd be interested, particularly if an acquisition was from
New Zealand or someplace really far.  Maybe some guys would have said it
was sissy looking at a doll collection, but I was really good in
basketball, especially the two-handed set.  I didn't mind looking at her
dolls; you could learn about foreign countries.  When we were little, we'd
play house and have them do things like clean up their room.

   Maybe somebody would say Marian was a tomboy because she could dribble
behind her back, pretty tricky to defend against.  As far as I was
concerned, she was just my friend.

   "I got a Ouija game!"

   "A squeegee game?"

   "Ouija, dummy.  It answers questions."

   This I didn't know.  I'd seen the Magic 8 Ball that would say things
like, "You may rely on it.," but that was pretty dumb.

   "Let's see it." Telephoning plus seeing isn't a problem if your windows
are right.

   She held up a game board, but I couldn't read the writing.

   "What's on it?"

   "Letters and stuff."

   That didn't help.

   "Like Scrabble?" not that great of a game if you're not a good speller.

   "No.  You'll be good.  Want to try?"

   "Mom's almost got supper ready."

   "Afterwards."

   Mom made lasagna.  Marian already had an Italian doll, where they
invented lasagna.

   "I'm going to Marian's," I told my folks.  I omitted, "to play," pretty
juvenile when one of you is in high school.

   "Don't go anyplace," the kind of thing Mom always said.  Marian and I
spent so much time at each other's that our folks considered us not even
gone.  "Anyplace" meant anyplace not here or there.

   Marian's new game was on the coffee table.

   "Two players doubles the magical power," she quoted the instructions,
while suspending an arrowhead from a crossed pair of rods.

   "What power?"

   "How it knows where to point.  I thought I told you."

   "I see." When you're the junior, you don't want to appear dumb.

   "I'll show you," offering me one side of the apparatus.  "Hold it loose
so it can go somewhere."

   When the moment was auspicious, she employed her most-solemn voice. 
"Ouija, Oh Ouija.  Is my name Marian?"

   The pendulum swung in a minute circle.

   "We're supposed to move it around," Marian decided after nothing
mysterious happened.  "To wake it up."

   It stood to reason that we had to help.  Otherwise they'd have included
a pendulum stand.  We moved the crossed rods over the board and, lo, the
arrowhead bobbed near the YES.

   Marian was triumphant.  "See!"

   "But we already knew your name," I noted.  "Besides, maybe you made it
do that."

   "I did not!" she retorted.  "It just did."

   Marian wasn't a liar.  When I'd accidentally shown my cards playing
Rook, we had to re-deal.  I didn't always tell when I saw hers, but I'd try
to forget.

   "Let me ask one," I decided, one that Marian wouldn't know.  "Did I have
chicken for supper?"

   "First say, 'Ouija, Oh Ouija.'" the owner corrected.

   "Okay.  Ouija, Oh Ouija.  Did I have chicken for supper?"

   The pendulum wobbled at the No.

   I nodded.

   "Told you so!" Marian rebuked me.  "Ask it what you had?"

   I did that.

   The arrowhead wavered as it started, but made a dip near L.

   "So what'd you have for supper?"

   "Lasagna," I reported, by now somewhat impressed.

   "See?" my friend said with satisfaction.

   "One more," I decided.  "Ouija, Oh Ouija.  Will the Phillies make the
Series?"

   The pendulum said GOOD BYE.

   "Dumb question," explained Marian.  "Want to see how I've fixed up
Josefina?"

   Marian had sewn a matching shawl and skirt, red and white, for Josefina
from Argentina, her latest doll.  "What they wear when they go to the
plaza. Isn't she pretty?"

   I could see Marian's bra straps.  I'd seen them lots of times before,
but I'd never noticed how they were uneven on her shoulders.

   "Goo-goo eyes," she grinned.

   "What!"

   "The blue make-up they wear when they tango.  I'm going to do it to
Josefina.  Know how to tango?"

   No, but like I said, a doll collection helps you learn about foreign
countries.

   That night I thought about Josefina dancing the tango in blue eye
makeup. Is it weird for a boy to think about a doll?  But after I thought
some more, I was thinking about Marian's bra.  There was no question that
the left strap had been further out than the right.  What if I'd reached
over and pushed it back?

   Marian was just my friend, but her bra was sure interesting.

   TUESDAY

   The phone rang as soon as I got home.

   "Doing anything?" as if Marian couldn't see that I was on the phone. 
"Let's ask it some stuff."

   "Give me a minute." It's handy being neighbors.

   "Ouija, Oh Ouija.  Does Dennis have a girlfriend?"

   She'd said, "some stuff," not about girlfriends!  She knew I wasn't even
old enough.

   "No," I answered.

   "I didn't ask you."

   What could I do but hold my half of the rods?

   The arrowhead dipped at M, then GOOD BYE.

   "See, it doesn't work," I interpreted.

   Marian overruled.  "It means who."

   "It's broken," I maintained.  Marsha Samuelson never paid me any
attention and Molly Thomas was too fat.  Margo Fanner?  No, she was always
fixing her hair.  Alice Benson had big breasts, but she wasn't an M.

   "You've got one."

   Anybody could see that the thing doesn't work that well.  But on the
other hand, Ouija had been correct about what I ate for supper.  Does it
know something?  I'd sort of liked Mavis Ramsey in sixth grade, but they
moved to Harrisburg.

   WEDNESDAY

   "So who's your girlfriend?" the greeting when I picked up the receiver.
I knew she was watching because she'd not have started that way if Mom
answered.

   "Little Miss Nobody," but pleased with the subject.

   "Me!  M!"

   "You?"

   "Because we're friends and I'm a girl, even if you're little," sounding
a little disappointed.

   "I'm as tall as you," I countered.  I would be soon anyway.

   She didn't argue the point.

   "Anyway, being as tall makes it work better."

   "What work better?"

   "Being my boyfriend."

   All of a sudden I wasn't little.

   "We'll ask Ouija," she informed me.

   "What?"

   "Come on over."

   Two minutes later we were side by side on her sofa, the game before us
on the coffee table.  Like I said, it's handy being neighbors.

   "Ouija, Oh Ouija.  Should we?"

   "Should we what?"

   "What we said we'd ask.  Make out, now that you're not so short."

   I never said we'd ask that.  On the other hand, boys think about such
things.  I looked around to make sure Marian's mom was in the kitchen and
took my half of the rods.

   The pendulum's arc trailed away from YES.  That was a close one!

   "One," I reported.  A number didn't make any sense, but it wasn't my
game.  "Maybe it's still tired from yesterday."

   Marian giggled.  "It means just first base."

   It wasn't as if I didn't know what first base was.  I wasn't that
little. It's kissing.  Marian, being older, maybe had even done it, but I
doubted it.

   "Naah," I decided.  Maybe it meant come back in one year.

   Marian tried the girls' way -- asking.  "Ouija, Oh Ouija.  You mean
first base?"

   The arrowhead hovered in the TUVW region and then wobbled near C and D.
As I'd suspected, this game didn't know anything.

   Was Marian's bra strap being more crooked than yesterday the reason that
I twisted my thumb a fraction when the pointer was over YES?

   It wasn't as if I really cheated.  What boy wouldn't want to kiss his
girlfriend?

   Marian had been watching the answer's meander and looked up, wide-eyed.

   "Was it YES?" she checked, my opportunity to nullify my thumb's
deception.

   A guy would trick his girlfriend for a kiss, wouldn't he?  You kiss your
aunts all the time, and that's not big deal.

   "I don't know," I stalled.

   "It did, Dennis," answering her own question.  "It said YES."

   "You two want iced tea?" Mrs.  McCall called from the kitchen.

   "In a min, Mom," Marian yelled back.  "Thanks."

   I couldn't deny where the arrowhead had dipped.

   "It said so," she ruled, leaning my way with her eyes already shut.

   That was so easy.  I gave her a little smack near the corner of her
mouth.

   "Not like that," not moving her head.

   I tried again, more like a kiss is supposed to be.

   Marian kissed me back, eyes still closed.  Her lips were wet.  It was
sort of fun when she put the tip of her tongue in my mouth.  Really fun,
actually.  By now we were looking at each other.  She was really pretty up
close.

   I wasn't sure she was really my girlfriend, but it was what I'd want to
do with one.

   We did it for just a few seconds, but that's a lot longer than I ever
kissed an aunt.  Plus Marian wasn't an aunt.  I was glad I'd tricked her,
her being older.

   She smiled when I reached over and straightened the strap.

   THURSDAY

   Thoughts of kissing had me waiting by the receiver.

   We tested Ouija about extra terrestrials.  It wasn't that informative,
though, because it wouldn't explain why they're here.  Maybe it was too
hard to spell.  Marian thought they're here to make hybrids to rule Earth.
Leroy Miller was maybe one, since he knew all about ham radios.

   "I'm half-Martian, myself," she revealed, pulling up her ears.

   "You look too much like your dad," I judged.  Plus I couldn't see Mrs.
McCall in bed with a little man with giant head and antennae.

   "Mom's sewing a slip for Josefina," Marian noted, breasts poking me like
the horns of a cow.

   Making out was safe as long as we could hear the sewing machine's hum
from the back room.

   "Know what?" she asked after our tongues sword-fought to a tie.  "We
have to check more about making out."

   What was there to check, except maybe that we shouldn't?

   She gave me one side of the rods.  "Ouija, Oh Ouija.  Should I let
Dennis feel me?"

   She'd ask that?  I'd tricked her about kissing.  The way she'd poked me
helped me decide to trick her a little more.

   The pendulum spelled O, then K.

   "Okay'" I translated.

   "We're safer downstairs," Marian suggested.

   It's so easy to fool a girl.

   The basement was where the McCalls planned to sit out the bomb.  Marian
and I once built ourselves a house of survival-supply boxes that collapsed
and almost buried us.  We got in trouble, but it could have been worse. 
We'd have been killed if we'd tipped the stack of National Geographics.

   The basement was better for making out than for avoiding fallout, I
judged.  For making out, we could hear upstairs footsteps.  For an atomic
war, you'd still need a bathroom.

   "Kiss me while you do it," was Marian's only condition.

   The kissing part was easy, but I wasn't too sure about the rest.

   "Like this," putting my hand on her blouse.  Her breast felt hard.

   "Go ahead," steering me to the buttons, white ones.

   I'd seen enough bits and pieces of her bras to make a whole one, but
never a whole bra at once.  I'd never made out with a girl whose blouse was
open before.  I'd never made out period, but that's not the point.

   "It's not that comfortable," she informed me, reaching behind.

   "Maybe we..." I tried, but it was already too late.

   She backed away so I could see better.  Her breasts were so pretty,
softer than they'd felt through her bra.  Her nipples were harder.

   "Kiss me extra," she suggested.

   "You two down there?" Her mom must have finished Josefina's slip and we
hadn't heard the footsteps.

   "Looking for a Geographic about Argentina," Marian yelled back.  She's
quick, I realized, and not just at dribbling.

   "Hi, Mrs.  McCall," I yelled for good measure while Marian turned her
back so I could do the hooks.

   Marian grinned the grin of successful conspiracy, then made a horn with
her pinkie and forefinger and poked me in the chest.

   I guess I grinned, too.

   FRIDAY

   "Come on."

   "Seeya." Bell Telephone's shortest.

   We asked Ouija if the Russians were going to attack soon?  The answer, T
J Q I, we figured might be Russian.  Or a maybe a ham radio from space.

   Then it was time for American Bandstand.  Marian could figure out steps
just by watching.  She'd teach them to me and we'd pretend we were on TV.

   My folks said I'd watch TV too much if we got one, but I knew all the
shows from hearing everybody talk.  When I have kids, I'd never make them
be so different.  It wasn't like we were poor or anything.  I'd buy an RCA.

   Most Bandstand records were too fast for making out, but this one was by
Negroes, really smooth, and it was easy to do two things at once.  We were
kissing and I had my hand under Marian's sweater.  Three things, counting
dancing.

   I tried to turn sideways to hide my hard-on from Marian's thigh. 
Especially your girlfriend shouldn't know when you have one.

   "Dennis?" after the Negroes finished.

   "Huh?" my condition harder to conceal.

   "You sort of know how to tango," her knee wedging between mine.  I could
feel her muscles.

   "I do?"

   "Bingo!" her press now direct.

   "Bingo what?" We hadn't played Bingo for years.

   "Bingo tango.  Let's play Ouija," pulling away, looking down quickly and
smiling triumphantly.

   Is bingo tango a game or a kind of dance, I wondered?  I didn't ask
Marian, though, so I wouldn't seem little.

   The board was still on the coffee table.

   "Ouija, Oh Ouija.  How much can we make out?"

   The thing was, I knew more about the subject than I let on.  You just
listen around.  I should have aimed at NO or maybe GOOD BYE, but I made the
answer 3.  I couldn't help it.

   "See?" noted Marian.  "It means third base."

   That was going to be my interpretation after I pretended to think. 
Great!  She'd said it, not me.

   "We're going to practice golf," Marian told her mom as we headed for the
basement.  Mr.  McCall stored his clubs down there and sometimes we'd putt
around the clutter, trying not to bang the furnace.

   It only took a minute to set out the clubs.  We sat on a crate of ship
biscuits and Marian put my hand on her lap.

   "You can start," putting my hand on her knee.  "If you kiss me, I can't
say stop."

   I engaged her mouth as instructed and smoothed the pleats of her skirt.

   "Mmm!" parting her knees enough that the pleat I was following lost its
support from below.  My hand descended with the fabric.

   When I started to follow a pleat up the inside of her thigh, she told
me, "Mmm!" again.

   Wow!

   "To make it fair," she broke the kiss to explain her hand on my knee.

   She was halfway up my own thigh before I grasped her intent.

   No way!  When Ouija said third base, I didn't mean me.

   "Told you so," her fingertips on my fly.

   "Told me what?" hoping to divert her attention.

   "Bingo," her palm firmly pressing.

   Bingo has to do with making a straight line, I realized.  What could I
do, trapped between Marian and a carton of Spam?  Your girlfriend finding
out about your hard-on isn't good.  But if you've been rubbing her leg,
maybe she's right that it's fair.

   I hoped she wasn't too put off by my condition.  She didn't comment,
fortunately.  If anything, in fact, she tried to put me at ease.

   "It's what's supposed to happen, Dennis."

   I wasn't that convinced.

   "When you make out," she added.

   Maybe that's when it's supposed to happen, I told myself, but that
doesn't make it okay for her to know about.

   She took her time exploring my lap.  "Here's where you make seeds,"
sliding her hand further downward.

   She thought I didn't know that?  I wasn't that little!

   "Your turn," she allowed, but not ending hers.

   Hadn't I already had my turn?

   She returned my hand to her knee and hooked my fingers to her skirt and
pulled upward.  Her leg felt smooth and the mound under the cotton parted
when my finger discovered it.  I knew what was under the fabric, of course.
Who hasn't seen little girls running around naked?

   "Mmm!" Marian didn't feel little when she lifted her hips, her wiggle
wedging me deeper.

   I couldn't believe she'd let me do this!

   No, it wasn't that she was letting me.  We were doing what Ouija said,
she'd figure.

   Above where my finger pressed, her panties felt fluffy.  Where my hand
hooked the hem, I could feel hairs.  I stroked double time so she'd not
notice my thumb.

   "Mmm!" bouncing, breathing fast, grimacing, arching.

   I'd no choice but to rub against the part of her panties that were by
now damp.

   "Mmm!  Mmm!" sucking in her stomach, holding her breath, blowing it out,
and after all of that, smiling blankly.

   I wondered if she were okay, but pretty soon she got more normal and I
unhooked my thumb so she wouldn't know where I'd been.

   "That was super!"

   I thought so, too.  Third base!  Not bad work, Mr.  Ouija!

   "I'll do it to you," she volunteered, pinching the tab of my zipper.

   "Do what?"

   "You know.  Fool around like you did.  I wouldn't look or anything."

   It's one thing, her knowing about your hard-on.  It's another, her
fooling around with it.  I knew what might happen.  Something boys wouldn't
want girls knowing about.

   "Ouija didn't mean me!"

   Marian looked thoughtful.  "Okay.  He's the boss."

   I liked when the younger person's told he's the boss.

   After a while we got up and banged a golf ball against the furnace so
we'd have something to get scolded about.

   SATURDAY

   I'd just biked back from the library when the phone rang.

   "Guess what I got?"

   I looked out the window, but Marian wasn't holding up anything.  As much
as we'd played Ouija, maybe it was time for something safer.

   "A Russian ballerina from Japan!" she helped me out.

   "From Japan?" It could have been a witch-doctor from Zululand, for all I
cared.  Anything was safer.

   "That's where they make them.  It says 'Russia Ballet Dolly' on the box.
In English.  Come see it."

   Marian showed me the "Made in Japan," but Olga the Ballet Dolly still
looked pretty Russian.

   It's strange, sitting on the sofa with a girl whose panties you felt
yesterday and the two of you talking about a doll.  Do you pretend like
nothing happened?

   It didn't seem to be as much an issue for Marian, parked in the exact
place we'd kissed the first time.  Her bra straps were crooked like before.

   "Hey, Dennis."

   "What?"

   "I've been thinking about your penis."

   My what?  I surely must have looked startled.

   "Remember when we used to play house?" she went on.

   "Sure." It's what we were playing when the boxes fell over and we got in
trouble.  She plays with my penis and I find myself in worse trouble.  Like
I said, it's something you don't want a girl to know can happen.

   "I was the mommy and you were the daddy.  We could ask Ouija."

   Weren't we finished with Ouija, except maybe regarding flying saucers? I
missed the connection.

   She finished matter-of-factly.  "About playing what daddies and mommies
get to do together?"

   We weren't done with Ouija at all!

   Everybody knows what daddies and mommies do together is how they end up
being daddies and mommies.  We weren't a real mommy and daddy, but that
wasn't the point.  Marian wanted to ask Ouija about having sex!

   And she didn't know that I was the one choosing the answer!

   I was old enough to see the opportunity.  What boy wouldn't want to have
sex with his girlfriend and never get blamed?  She'd think that Ouija told
us to.

   But I was also old enough to see how to end this game before it got too
far.  Marian was my friend, after all.  As pretty as she was, maybe now
wasn't quite the time for me to go to bed with a girl.  Having gotten to
third base, I was already ahead of my friends.  Most of them hadn't even
gotten inside a blouse.  Maybe I should wait a year or so and work on
make-out skills.

   "Ouija, Oh Ouija.  Can we play..." I intoned, but didn't say, "what
daddy does to mommy." I didn't want to say the real word, either.

   Marian let it remain unspoken; Ouija would understand.

   But her bra strap being crooked made it hard for me to quit playing. 
When in doubt, call a time out.

   I took my end of the rods and bounced the pendulum above T.  Then O.  An
M.  An M again.  Back to O.  R.  Another O.  W.  GOOD BYE.

   Marian looked at me and nodded.  She brightened when I straightened the
strap.

   "Let's watch TV," I suggested.

   As her mom was in the kitchen and her dad was banging something in the
basement, we couldn't make out above the back of the sofa.  I felt her bra
and she teased my hard-on while the Giants clobbered the Phillies.  She
didn't rub too hard though, as maybe she knew about the risk.

   TOMMOROW should have had maybe two Rs, when I thought about it later.

   SUNDAY

   After I thought it through in Sunday School, Ouija's answer was NO.

   But in church the McCalls were in the pew in front of us and I could
watch Marian's bra straps.  I knew exactly what was underneath.  The sermon
was about Abraham and I knew he'd gone to bed with Hagar the servant girl.
I put the hymnal over my lap.  When Marian said Hi, Ouija's NO wasn't so
clear.

   I thought it wise to lie low that afternoon, but you can't hide from a
neighbor who knows when you're done with dinner.

   The phone rang as I finished dessert.  "Want to play?"

   "Really?"

   I said Hi to Mrs.  McCall.

   "Can Dennis stay for supper, Mom?" Marian asked.  I always liked to, as
then I could watch Ed Sullivan afterwards.

   "That okay with your mom, Dennis?" Mrs.  McCall checked.  "Ron and I are
going to the Legion, but you two can make popcorn."

   "It's cool."

   "Want to see how I arranged Olga?" Marian asked me for her mom's ears.

   "Sure," suspecting that Marian actually thought I wanted see the Russian
from Japan.

   Shutting her door would have looked suspicious, so we made out with our
ears attuned to footsteps.  Her folks seemed parked in the living room, Mr.
McCall watching baseball and Mrs.  McCall, reading.

   "Today's tomorrow," was how Marian put it.

   "It meant to ask tomorrow, is all," I clarified, speaking for Ouija, but
she didn't know that.  "Or the day after," for good measure.

   For kissing standing up, it's good to be the same height.  Maybe she'd
want to do what we'd done before.  Maybe I'd get a little further between
her legs

   It felt risky, being so near the door while trying to push up her bra.

   "Got to undo the hooks," she reminded.

   I had to lift up her sweater to get at them.  The strap had looked
simple at church.

   She waited till I figured out how the hooks unhook, then lifted my shirt
enough to touch my stomach.

   I sucked in when she dragged her knuckles against the edge of by belt.

   Please not inside!  I told myself.  But -- and this I'd realized as soon
as she touched my stomach -- I'd let her.  There's no way to stop a girl
who's so near.

   "Okay?" she asked, pushing inside enough to trail her fingertips against
the side of my penis.

   "Maybe," I admitted, despite the probable consequence.  Like I said,
things can happen to a boy in this situation, but what can you do?

   "How 'bout this?" squeezing ever so slightly.

   I wanted to sound old, but all I could come up with was, "Yeah." Your
penis is pretty hard to discuss with a girl.

   She removed her hand, leaving me throbbing.  "Then let's get on the
bed."

   That wasn't my plan!  Making out on a bed's a lot more risky than by a
door.  One, it's harder to keep guard.  Two, the bed's for more than just
getting rubbed.

   "Where the Ouija is," she clarified, pulling down her sweater, but
leaving her bra unfastened.

   Josefina in her red and white plaza outfit waited for us on the pillow.
I guess Mrs.  McCall hadn't finished her slip.  She'd no blue eye makeup.
Josefina was just going to the plaza, still.

   The board and pendulum were on the bedspread.

   "Ouija board, Ouija board.  Should we?"

   Should we?  Should we?  Should we?  She wouldn't have asked about
something we'd already done.

   I'd already seen Marian's breasts and felt the edge of her hair.  She'd
felt my penis, knew it got hard, almost made it do something, even.  It
wasn't as if we had many secrets.

   We'd played mommy and daddy with dolls.  We're older now, more like a
real mommy and daddy.  A daddy's penis goes inside mommy, Ouija could tell
her.

   But that's too much to think through while you swing the pendulum.  It
only took knowing that Marian's bra was loose to make me steer the
arrowhead.

   By the way the she looked up, Marian saw Ouija's answer.

   "Dennis?"

   "What?" desperately trying to reverse the pointer and not cheat.

   "It said YES.  You saw it," with a girl's certainty.

   Why had I made it be YES?  Sure, I'd wanted to make out some more, but
this wasn't about kissing or feeling somebody up.  This was about going all
the way!

   "I couldn't tell," I reneged.  "Let's keep watching."

   "It exactly said YES." She put down the rods, thwarting my redemption.
"That's why it said 'tomorrow' yesterday.  It had to think about it."

   I was the one who'd made it say "tomorrow" and that wasn't what I meant,
but how do you admit that?

   "Nobody asks some game about...  you know," I argued.

   "It probably doesn't mean this instant," she allowed.  "Ouija's not
stupid," appraising the open door.

   "Right!" I agreed.  "And there's no place to do it in the basement."

   "There's a folding cot," she noted.  "Or it can be like we're practicing
the tango."

   I thought fast.  "Your dad might come down to count the boxes."

   She weighed the consequences of getting interrupted on the cot or on our
feet.  "This afternoon, maybe he might, but they've got Legion tonight."

   And we can do more than chomp popcorn and watch Ed Sullivan, she didn't
add.

   "I'll move the dolls," she volunteered.  "A girl's first time should be
in her own bed," patting our proposed location.

   I'd better think faster, I realized, but she preempted.  "Ever slept
with a girl?" adding with experience, "I'll know if you lie."

   "No."

   "Me neither, with a boy, I mean."

   I'd have known if she were lying, too.  She might be in high school, but
when she went to the movies, it was with her girlfriends.

   "We've done pretty much everything else together, though," she
summarized the intertwinings of our childhood before arriving at the
pragmatic.  "We'll really make out to get started." She blushed.  "Naked,
even."

   "I don't know, Marian.  What if..."

   But for her, Ouija spoke no "ifs."

   "The thing is, Dennis, the boy has to start really slow when the girl's
maybe not that, you know, used to it."

   Like I was used to it?

   I'd started playing Ouija, just hoping for a kiss.  Then it was so easy
tricking her into getting felt up and then into letting me go low.  When
she touched my penis -- her idea, not Ouija's -- I'd even liked it.

   And now I've tricked her into going all the way!  Tricked her into
making the plans, even.

   I looked at the bed.  Her head would be on the pillow.  I'd see her
whole body.  She'd put her arms around my neck and we'd kiss while I put it
in.  I'd not goof up; you want your girlfriend to like the way you do it.
Like she said, start really slow.

   There was no question that I wanted to.

   But what you want isn't what's good for you if you cheat to get it.  You
can't lie to your girlfriend when she's always been your friend.  Not to
get her to have sex, anyway.

   "I'll help you go slow," she offered, maybe guessing I might forget.

   "I can't," I decided.

   "Sure you can," probably thinking of my hard-on.

   "No, I mean it's not okay."

   Marian looked at the letters and numbers.  "You don't believe Ouija?"

   I had to tell.  I really did.  "It wasn't Ouija who said YES." The
weight of my deception lifted so fast that the mattress pushed up under me.

   She looked at me.  "We saw it!"

   "It was me," bracing for the atomic bomb.

   "It was you that what?"

   I couldn't look her in the face.  "Made it point."

   "To YES?" she persisted.

   I raised my eyes.  "To get you to do it."

   Marian seemed stunned.  "You cheated on the first ones, was all."

   She knew that I'd bobbed the arrowhead?  That I'd tried to trick her.

   She swallowed, then went on.  "But the last time was me."

   She's saying she did it?

   "I made it say YES," she clarified.

   Told us to do it?  I was confused.

   "No way.  I did it," in case I hadn't confessed my crime correctly.

   Marian thought a moment, then another moment.

   She put away the board and dangled the arrowhead above the mattress.

   "Ouija, Oh Ouija," as she pondered the pendulum's swing.

   "Hey, Dennis!  Guess what?" her smile emerging.

   "What?"

   She grinned.

   "It really works!"

   THE END

   Holly on the Web

   Wherever you found this story on the web, thank you to the server.  My
problem is that I've no systematic way to update the various servers.  As
literary errors (or just lame word usages) are made known, I'll repair that
which is salvageable on /~Holly_Rennick.  If you take
the time to read me, don't wade through an early version.

   You can contact me via the site's message form.
   Holly