‘But there’s even a way they do it,’ Pop said, and then, as if Kevin had asked: ‘Who? Damned if I know. I guess some of them are “psychic investigators”, or at least call themselves that or some such, but I guess it’s more’n likely most of em are just playin around, like folks that use Ouija Boards at parties.’
He looked up at Kevin grimly, as if rediscovering him.
‘You got a Ouija, son?’
‘Ever played with one?’
‘Don’t,’ Pop said more grimly than ever. ‘F——n things are dangerous.’
Kevin didn’t dare tell the old man he hadn’t the slightest idea what a weegee board was.
I first read Four Past Midnight when I was around 11-12 years old, and it’s one of the first books I read that managed to truly freak me out* (which I loved, and which few works of prose have managed to do to me since).
Text excerpt © 1990 Stephen King.
(N.B. The original text is not bowdlerized, which I guess ought to be obvious to anyone with more than a passing knowledge of King’s writing, eh? Dunno why I’m censoring an F-word in case kids are reading this, yet I’m leaving a link here to The Sun Dog; but I guess I’m just full of unpredictable whimsey liek dat.)
*See also, The Wasp Factory. But I’ve already mentioned that, eh.