Free Unhappy Medium by Elizabeth Cody Kimmel

woman said, patting the stone bench next to her. “I’ve read this book before, anyway. Besides,
     you might not find your way out. The main labyrinth is pretty idiotproof, but you can really get lost in the annex.”
    Relieved, I sat down next to her. Something about her reminded me of my mother, with the exception of the “mom” haircut.
    “I’m Kat,” I said. “Room 505.”
    “Alex,” she said. “Accounting and Reservations.”
    We grinned at each other, and my feeling of liking her was reinforced. Though I’m the most sensitive to dead people, sometimes
     I get feelings about living people, too. My gut was telling me that Alex was good people.
    “I’m actually relieved to see you,” Alex said. “I was sitting here reading and I thought I heard a laugh from just on the
     other side of the hedge there. Started wondering if I was hearing things, or I’d read one too many of my Spiritualist books.”
    Interesting,
I thought. Alex must be somewhat sensitive, spirit-wise, to have heard that laugh. Because it hadn’t come from me.
    “Spiritualist books?” I asked.
    She showed me the cover of the book in her hands. The title was
The Spiritualists in America.
    “I’ve always been fascinated with this period in history,” Alex said. “Especially the Spiritualists. Plus there’s a link to
     the Mountain House, so it’s doubly cool. That’s actually how I got interested in the Spiritualists, because of this place.
     Do you know about them?”
    I didn’t respond, but kept an open, curious expression on my face so that she’d keep talking.
    “Probably not — I guess it’s a pretty obscure topic these days. They were sort of the first mediums in this country. One of
     them lived at the Mountain House for a time.”
    I loved that Alex was giving no disclaimers. I also loved that the red-haired girl had led me directly to someone else that
     might know something about Madame Serena.
    “I know a little bit about them,” I said. “There was this guy who worked here, actually one of
the
Mountain House family, la-dee-dah and all that, who started telling me about the Spiritualists. But he was really condescending
     about it, you know, all ‘how stupid is this’ and everything. I wanted to throttle him. So, I never really got the story. Something
     about the Foxes?”
    Alex had been giving me a lopsided smile while I talked, but now she broke into a full grin.
    “The Fox sisters. I think I’ve read everything ever written about them. Maggie and Katy started contacting spirits in the
     1840s when they were barely into their teens. At first, only their family knew about it, but word spread, and friends and
     neighbors starting dropping by. They would ask questions, and these loud knocking and rapping sounds would answer them, always
     using the two girls as conduits. Maggie figured out a way to ask the spirits yes and no questions and translate the responses.
     Nobody could find any explanation for how this was happening. People came up with all kinds of tests, making the girls stand
     on boxes or holding their hands during the raps. No one could even produce a theory as to how a teenage girl could create
     a sound like that on demand. Everybody agreed the sisters were the real deal. They were contacting spirits.
    “Word spread like wildfire. Thousands of people witnessed Maggie and Katy’s spirit communications. Before long they were celebrities,
     not just in America but in Europe, too. A huge community followed them, and other mediums stepped forward. And that’s how
     the Spiritualist movement was born, and Maggie Fox was its leader. Until one day, in 1888 — that’s after forty years of working
     as a world-renowned medium, mind you — Maggie suddenly went public and claimed her entire career had been an elaborate hoax.”
    “What?” I cried.
    Alex nodded.
    “I know, right? Well, Maggie claimed it had all started as a prank, after she and Katy found that they could crack the bones
     in their