~ The Offering ~

by

W. J. Calabrese

May, 1877

There were ten of them, crouched around the table like participants in some arcane rite.

Why was he here? It was not the first time the question had occurred to Andrew Brighton in the short time since he had entered the room. To be here was completely out of character for him, completely fantastic. But he was here for Millicent, not himself. He pictured her as he had seen her last, her golden hair with sunlight in it, and her smile warmer than the sunlight. Millicent. How he missed her!

He looked at the other men at the table. A mixed group, most of them his age or only slightly older--young men just beginning the serious part of living but not entirely ready to relinquish schoolboy foolishness. One of these was a red-haired young man, with a face flushed by what Andrew took to be a bit too much to drink. Three men were older, two in their solemn forties, and one middle-aged gentleman, looking ill at ease with the necessity to hold hands with other men.

Directly across from Andrew, sitting in watchful silence, was a tall, slender gentleman with a full head of white hair. Dr. Gideon Mayhew--a genuine enigma.

Andrew knew from inquiries that Dr. Mayhew was no older than thirty-five or so, despite his prematurely white hair. Why did he seem so much older? His elongated face was unlined. He had a high forehead and a long, delicate nose. The thin scar that crossed his left cheek added interest to his features, rather than detracting from them. He wore no beard, but only a modest and unwaxed mustache which, unlike his hair, was a rich auburn in color. His eyes were steely gray--the kind of eyes that seemed fully capable of seeing beneath the surface of things--and of people. In all, Dr. Gideon Mayhew made Andrew just a bit nervous.

“If we are ready, gentlemen...” Mayhew said in a quiet voice Andrew was sure would be heard clearly in any circumstances.

Conversations around the table flickered out like snuffed candle flames. Mayhew gave a slight nod. His silent and swarthy servant began to move around the border of the room. A red Indian, by the look of him--tall, lean and tightly built--with long black hair caught up in the back with a bit of colored string.

The Indian’s appearance at Mayhew’s side, as the participants had been greeted at the door some minutes earlier, had caused several muttered comments. Andrew had perhaps stared a bit longer than was polite wondering what would cause a man like Mayhew to choose a savage to be his assistant. Andrew fancied that the Indian, whose expression had been impassive until that moment, had given him a strange, almost startled look in exchange.

Now the Indian moved as quickly as a cat, circling the room to turn off all of the gas lights except the one near the door and the one directly behind Dr. Mayhew’s chair. Even these he turned down as low as they would go without sputtering out.

The rest of the room was now in darkness. From his small island of light, Dr. Mayhew regarded his audience in silence. The gaslight above and behind him made his white hair glow and cast long, ominous shadows on his face. As Mayhew’s silence continued, Andrew could feel a tension begin to build around the circle. Someone coughed; another gave what sounded very much like the beginning of a giggle. Mayhew ignored both sounds.

“We are about to embark upon a voyage,” Mayhew said, in his soft, unhurried manner. “One such that none of you, I trust, has taken before. This journey will take us beyond the world we know into one we have never seen. I mean that shadowy realm that lies beyond life--beyond death. We will seek to contact those who have already crossed that barrier. We will seek their wisdom and guidance, and perhaps gain a glimpse of the path that we ourselves must eventually walk. Are you ready to begin, gentlemen? Please signify by responding ‘I am’.”

There was a ragged chorus of self-conscious “I ams” from around the circle. Andrew found that he had to clear his throat before he could reply.

Mayhew’s soft and deliberate voice resumed. “The spirits require darkness before making their presence felt. That is because darkness softens the edge of our own resistance and sharpens those other senses--the ones we all possess, but so seldom use--that can allow us to become aligned with the unseen realm that exists all around us. But before we extinguish the last of the artificial light that blinds us to the truth, let me make some final preparations.”

Crossing to the door of the chamber, Mayhew opened the door and motioned to the Indian, who nodded solemnly and then quickly went out through the doorway. Mayhew closed the door behind him and locked it with a large key.

For a moment, Andrew thought of asking whether he could leave, too. The whole thing suddenly seemed so foolish. But then a memory of Millicent came to reproach him. No, he would see this through. He must see this through!

Mayhew extinguished the gaslight beside the door, and approached the table, twirling the key in his fingers like a conjurer. He stopped beside Andrew’s chair and held the key out to him. “If you will be so kind as to take this key and keep it safe for the moment, we shall be assured of not being interrupted.”

Hesitantly, Andrew took the key and tucked it into the watch pocket of his waistcoat. Mayhew returned quickly to his side of the table and extinguished the remaining gas light with a single flick of his hand.

The darkness was almost total now. The only light source was a sickle of moon that hung outside a window at the far end of the room.

“We are almost ready now,” Mayhew said. His voice was even softer than before, but perhaps more riveting for that very reason. “But first let me give you one necessary caution. Our voyage is not without its dangers, some of them mortal in nature. It is my firm intention to keep all of us from harm. For the most part, what we are likely to encounter are the shades of those who once walked in life. Some of them we may recognize, some we will not. Some are fully passed over and are in harmony with their new plane of existence. Some are still struggling to break completely free from the bonds of this world. Some are confused, angry. Still, there is no reason to fear these souls. Even those that are not yet fully at peace are not disposed to do us any injury. But I must warn you that the region which we are about to enter also contains other beings. These are dark forces, destructive forces that in no way can be thought of as human. Elementals, they are called. You must remember that these, should we encounter them, are totally malevolent to our interests and perhaps our very lives and souls.”

Mayhew paused. The silence that ensued seemed much longer than the several seconds for which it lasted.

“Therefore,” Mayhew resumed, “for your own safety, I must insist that no one, on no pretext, break the circle of joined hands we are about to form. Union with each other will protect us, regardless of how powerful and how evil the forces may be that come against us. As long as the circle is intact, and as long as our will is joined, there is little to fear. Should we encounter forces of the sort that I have warned you about, they cannot do us harm as long as we maintain the strength of our circle. Is that clearly understood?”

There was a murmur of assent.

“Are there any questions?”

Nobody had any, it seemed, for there was no response.

“Very well--if there are any last minute adjustments that you wish to make, please make them now, while you have the leisure to do so, because, my friends, I feel in the atmosphere in this room tonight a certain galvanic charge that tells me...” He paused for a moment. “…we shall not be alone for very long.”

Andrew felt a chill creep up the back of his neck, almost like a small creature. He wanted to reach back to find out if there was something there, although he knew that there was most certainly not.

Mayhew was speaking again.

“It is time, gentlemen. When I give the signal, you must firmly join hands and not let go until I tell you to do so. I must impress upon the gentlemen on my left and right that this is particularly important as pertaining to me. You are not to let go of my hands for an instant, not an instant! Is that point fully understood?”

He waited for a few moments while murmurs of assent came from around the table.

“Good! Now you may take a moment to make yourselves more comfortable, gentlemen.”

There was a rustling and a creaking of chairs as the men around the table rearranged themselves. Andrew took the opportunity to scratch an itch below his ribcage and to mop his brow where perspiration had broken out despite the coolness of the room. He found himself casting apprehensive glances into the darkness, and he was sure that the other men were doing likewise.

Mayhew’s voice cut through again. “Join hands, gentlemen, and we will proceed.”

Andrew wiped his sweaty palms against the legs of his trousers before joining hands with the men seated on either side of him.

There was more shuffling and a few coughs as the men around the table joined hands. Mayhew waited for all this to subside before he spoke again, this time in a louder voice than before. “All of us, as humble seekers of knowledge, call upon those spirits whose spheres might correspond with ours this night, to make their presence known. Come forward and speak!”

There was complete silence for a long time. Andrew felt a bead of sweat work its way down his cheek. He was sure that everybody in the room must now be able to clearly hear his heart thumping in his chest.

Just when he thought that nothing whatsoever was going to happen, there was a sharp double rap that seemed to come from the center of the table.