Page 157 of Clinically Bewitched
“This is going to be a disaster.”
“I know.”
“A beautiful, hilarious disaster.”
“I know.”
“Can I film it?”
“Absolutely not.”
House One: Saturday, 10:00 AM
“What do you think?” the real estate agent asked brightly. She was young, enthusiastic, and had no idea what she was about to witness. “Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, completely renovated kitchen—”
“The energy is wrong,” Nathan said.
We all turned to stare at him.
He was standing in the middle of the living room, his eyes closed, his hands at his sides, looking as if he were trying to commune with the spirit world.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Trying to feel the vibes,” he said, not opening his eyes.
“And?”
“The energy is wrong. Too... sterile. Too cold.”
“It’s a house,” the agent said weakly. “It’s supposed to be clean.”
“Not clean. Cold. There’s a difference.” Nathan opened his eyes. “This house has no soul.”
“Houses don’t have souls,” I said.
“This one definitely doesn’t.”
I looked at Hayden, who shrugged. “I mean, it does feel kind of... empty?”
I looked at Gabriel, who was walking slowly through the dining room, his hands outstretched in front of him as if he were trying to sense something invisible. Or like he was pretending to be a zombie. It was hard to tell.
“Gabriel, what are you doing?”
“Assessing the spiritual flow,” he said seriously.
“The what?”
“The way energy moves through the space. Athena talks about it all the time.”
“And?”
“It’s blocked. The layout is wrong. The energy can’t flow properly.”
“The layout is open-concept,” the agent protested. “It’s very popular.”
“Popular doesn’t mean spiritually sound,” Gabriel said, still waving his hands around like he was conducting an invisible orchestra.
I closed my eyes and counted to ten, reminding myself that I’d asked for help.
