*** SATURDAY

“Hey, Dennis! Guess what?” It was just Rachael. I thought it silly to use the telephone when we could see each other through our living room windows, but girls love the phone.

Rachael was one year, five months and eleven days older than me. Some girls that old might ignore their neighbor because he’s little, but not Rachael McCall. We’d always been buddies. Besides, height-wise, I was starting to catch up.

“What?” I’d already made a guess, though. She got a new doll. Most girls by her age quit collecting them, but they didn’t have an uncle who works all over the world installing printing presses. She had one from every country that had a newspaper. Not Russia, though, because they don’t have a free press.

Rachael knew I’d be interested, particularly in foreign one. Some guys might think it sissy, being interested in your girl neighbor’s collection, but I was really good in basketball, especially the two-handed set, so I was no sissy. If I didn’t make the NBA and had to pay European, I’d need to know about those countries.

Maybe some would say Rachael was a tomboy because she could dribble behind her back, but as far as I was concerned, she was just my friend. It didn’t hurt, however, that we could cream anybody in the neighborhood, two against two.

“I got an Ouija game!”

“A squeegee game?”

“Ouija, dummy. It knows everything.”

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 lame.

“Let’s see it.” Seeing isn’t a problem if your windows face each other.

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

“What’s on it?”

“Letters and stuff.”

“Like Scrabble?” not that great of a game when you’re not a good speller.

“Not at all. Want to try?”

“Mom’s almost got supper ready.”

“Afterwards.”

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

“Going across the street,” I told the folks.

“Have fun, Dennis,” the kind of thing your folks always say.

Her new game was on her coffee table.

“Two players holding it doubles its magical power,” said the instructions

“What power?”

She suspended an arrowhead from two crossed rods. “How it knows where to point, like I told you.”

“I see.” When you’re junior by one year, five months and eleven days, you don’t want to appear dumb.

“Like this,” offering me one side of the rods. “Hold it loose so it can go somewhere,” and then in her most-solemn voice, “Ouija, oh Ouija. Yell us if my name’s Rachael McCall?”

The pendulum swung in a circle.

“We’re supposed to move it around,” Rachael decided after nothing mysterious happened, “to wake it up.”

It stood to reason that we had to do something. Otherwise they’d have included a pendulum stand. We moved our rods over the board and the arrowhead bobbed near the YES.

Rachael was triumphant. “See!”

“But we already knew that,” I pointed out. “Besides, maybe you made it.”

“It just did.”

She wasn’t a cheater. When I’d accidentally show my cards in 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 Rachael wouldn’t know. “Did I have chicken for supper?”

“First say, ‘Ouija, oh Ouija.’”

“OK. Ouija, oh Ouija. Did I have chicken for supper?”

The pendulum wobbled at the No.

I nodded.

“Told you so!” Rachael noted with a degree of smugness. “Ask it what you had?”

I did that and the arrowhead wavered, but made a dip near L.

“See?”

“One more,” I decided. “Ouija, oh Ouija. Will the Celtics pull it off?”

The pendulum said GOODBYE to what should have been easy. They always do.

“Dumb question,” explained Rachael. “Want to see how I’ve fixed up Josefina?”

Rachael had made a matching shawl and skirt, red and white, for Josefina from Argentina, a county with good printing presses, according to her uncle. “What they wear when they go to the plaza.”

I’d never noticed Rachael’s bra straps this much.

“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 lasI said, dolls are a way to learn about foreign countries.

That night I thought about Josefina dancing the tango in blue eye makeup. But after I thought some more, I was thinking about Rachael’s bra, which actually was white, the left strap further out than the right.

*** SUNDAY

The McCalls were in the pew in front of us and I could see Rachael’s straps.

“So who’s your girlfriend?” her greeting when I picked up the receiver, not more than five minutes after we’d gotten home. Mom was getting lunch together. I knew Rachael was watching because she’d not have started that way if Mom answered.

“Little Miss Nobody.”

“It’s me!”

“You?”

“Because we’re friends and I’m a girl,” sounding a little disappointed.

“That doesn’t count.”

“Come on over. We’ll ask Ouija.”

Two minutes later we were on her sofa, the game before us. As I said, it’s handy being neighbors. Was her bra a little more crooked than this morning at church? Maybe.

We tested Ouija about extra-terrestrials, but it wasn’t that informative. Rachael said they’re already here making hybrids to rule Earth. We agreed that probably Leroy Miller’s one.

*** MONDAY

The phone was ringing the moment I got home from school.

“Doing anything?” as if Rachael couldn’t see that I was doing something, it being on the phone. “Let’s ask Ouija something more interesting.”

It’s handy being neighbors, as it only takes a minute to get there.

“Ouija, oh Ouija. Does Dennis have a girlfriend?”

She’d said “more stuff,” not about girlfriends, but I let it go.

The arrowhead dipped at R, then GOOD BYE.

“See, it doesn’t work,” I pointed out.

Rachael overruled. “It exactly knows.”

Ruth Samuelson never paid me any attention and Rose Thomas was fat. Roslyn Fenner? She was always fixing her hair. Alice Benson had boobs, but she wasn’t an R.

On the other hand, Ouija had been correct about what I’d had for supper. Does it know something I don’t? Last year I’d sort of liked Mavis Ramsey, but she’d moved to Harrisburg.

Ms. Rennick taught English and everybody said she was a virgin. She’d sometimes wear tops that were easy to look down and when she stood in the doorway to see us out of class, she’d not notice if I brushed against her. But your teacher can’t be your girlfriend.

When I’d once said that I couldn’t come over until I’d finished my make-up homework for Ms. Rennick, though, Rachael claimed I’d said, “make-out,” and told me that I was too young to make out with Ms. Rennick.

When I pointed out that Candi Springer didn’t think she was too young to do it with Mr. Carson who taught choir and gave her private vocal lessons and told her he was checking her lung control, Rachael said that Ms. Rennick was just a tease.

*** TUESDAY

We were watching American Bandstand at her place Bandstand had Negroes. Pretty cool, as their music was more fun. Rachael could figure out steps just by watching, but I wasn’t as good. She said I just needed to be more rhythmic.

“Ouija, oh Ouija. Should Dennis do it?” she asked her game when the Negros finished.

“Should I what?” as I wanted to know, myself.

“What you asked about: making out with your girlfriend.”

“I didn’t ask that. I don’t even have one,” looking around to make sure her mom wasn’t in earshot.