Page 159 of Clinically Bewitched
He was holding up a dustpan.
“That’s a dustpan,” I said.
“It has good energy.”
“It’s a dustpan.”
“A spiritually sound dustpan.”
“We’re leaving,” I said quickly, before the agent could call security.
House Two: Saturday, 11:30 AM
“This one has character,” the agent said hopefully. She looked nervous.
It was Victorian with original woodwork and a wraparound porch.
“It’s beautiful,” Winnie breathed.
“It’s sad,” Nathan said immediately.
“Oh my God,” I muttered.
“How can a house be sad?” the agent asked.
“It just is. Can’t you feel it? Like it’s been empty too long. Like it misses its family.”
“Houses don’t miss people,” I said.
“This one does. It’s practically weeping.”
I looked at Gabriel. He nodded solemnly. “He’s right. The energy is melancholy.”
“The energy is WHAT?”
“Melancholy. Lonely. This house wants to be filled with life again, but it’s been waiting so long it’s forgotten what that feels like.”
“You’re all insane,” I said.
“We’re trying to help,” Quinton protested. He was already opening cabinets again.
“By anthropomorphizing real estate?”
“By being open to spiritual energy!” Gabriel corrected, his hands doing that weird waving thing again.
“There is no spiritual energy! It’s a HOUSE! It’s wood and drywall and plumbing!”
“Julien,” Vivian said quietly. “Your eye is twitching again.”
“I know.”
“Both eyes now.”
“I KNOW!”
Hayden was walking through the rooms, occasionally stopping to press his ear against the walls.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
