L’esprit de la Table
“It is well known,” said Professor Vanderwijk as he ducked to avoid a flying teacup, “that poltergeist activity is the result of restless spirits possessing furniture and other objects. But what happens–” he jumped over a small rug that was attempting to trip him– “when those occupying spirits displace the souls of the objects themselves?”
“The objects’ souls, Professor?” said Brian, the younger of the old ghost hunter’s two assistants. A flock of knives circled the chandelier in a worrying fashion.
“Of course. Take, for example, that end table beside the chaise lounge. Or, perhaps I should say, that end table that is rapidly hurtling towards the far wall… oh, my.”
“Well, it’s firewood now,” said Janey, Vanderwijk’s other assistant. “What was it?”
“Eighteenth century, I believe,” said Vanderwijk, raising his voice to be heard over the chandelier, which had begun shaking its crystals into a frenzy. “Possibly from the reign of Louis XV. Is it any wonder that an object exposed to so much history would start to develop its own personality? It might form very strong opinions indeed. Brian?”
Brian didn’t answer. He was on his hands and knees beside the chaise lounge. He stared forward, seeing nothing, and was perfectly still.
