Ghost Stories Read Online Free PDF Page A

Much gold, but no good will come of it. Do nottouch it. It brings—it brings—death! There is death around this gold and there is—”
    Suddenly her eyes opened wide and she stared at Frank with a half-mad look. “Simbu!” she screamed. “Simbu is there! Do not go near him!” She gasped for breath, then she keeled over and fainted on the black velvet floor.
    â€œQuick, Joe, see if you can find a sink and get some water!” Frank urged as he tried to revive the fortune-teller. He rubbed her hands and Joe came a moment later with a soaked hand towel and gently dabbed her forehead.
    â€œFor a moment I thought she was putting on an act,” Frank murmured. “But she really passed out!”
    â€œWhat do you think she meant?” Joe was worried.
    â€œIf we can revive her, maybe we can ask her,” Frank said.
    In a few minutes, the woman opened her eyes.
    â€œAre you all right?” Frank asked anxiously.
    She nodded slowly. “I received very strong vibrations,” she said. “Please, get out of Atlanta as fast as you can!”
    â€œWho’s Simbu?” Joe inquired.
    â€œYou’ll find out if you don’t listen to me,” she replied. Slowly she got to her feet and walked out into the store. The boys followed. She took a book from a shelf and handed it to Frank. “Here,” she said. “If you must know, you can read about him in here. No charge,” she added. “My compliments. Now go away and never come back. You are bad luck, gentlemen!”
    Frank and Joe stared at her and Frank started to reply, but the expression on her face silenced him. She looked genuinely frightened.
    â€œCome on,” he said to his brother and went to the door, nodding good-bye to the fortune-teller.
    â€œWow!” Joe said when they had left the strange shop. “What an experience!”
    Frank nodded. “There was something about her and that place that almost made me believe her.”
    Joe grinned. “Maybe you should!”
    When the boys arrived at the hotel, Frank went to take a shower, and Joe curled up on the bed to read the book the woman had given them. It was about voodoo, the mystical religious cult that flourished on the island of Haiti but had its roots in Africa. The book described the more common practices and spells, incantations, and sacrifices necessary in order to perform various ceremonies.
    When Frank came out of the shower, Joe said, “If I wish to cast a spell on you and make your arm hurt, all I have to do is put a needle through the arm of a doll and
you’ll
feel the pain.”
    â€œHm, well, don’t do it now,” Frank said. “We have to meet Dad for dinner, and I don’t need a pain anywhere.”
    â€œI suppose it wouldn’t really work unless you believed in voodoo,” Joe went on. “It’s all a matter of suggestion.”
    â€œHave you found the part on Simbu yet?” Frank asked as he took a clean shirt out of the closet.
    â€œHe’s a chubby little fellow with rather insane eyes that wander outward,” Joe replied. “See, here’s a picture of him.”
    Frank looked over his brother’s shoulder at the reproduction. Simbu had both arms up in the air and ten fingers on each hand. He stood with his legs spread apart and had ten toes on each foot. A big belt or girdle encircled his waist.
    â€œCute,” Frank said. “Who’s he supposed to be?”
    â€œA rare character who guards his owner’s possessions,” Joe explained. “Very few Simbu figures from the last century still exist and those that do are very valuable to collectors. There are apparently many modern imitations, but none that could pass as authentic antiques.” He handed the book to Frank. “Here, read it yourself while I take a shower.”
    Frank sat down with the book. It seemed that Simbu was a character who did not want to be collected. His job