The Black Heart Crypt

“There you are!” said Aunt Francine, her eyes swimming in crazy circles. “Zachary!”

She reached out both arms—Frankenstein-style—and stumbled forward.

“Stand back!” shouted Aunt Ginny as the three Jennings sisters came toddling onto the porch, each one holding a white sage stick. Their three cats streamed out behind them and circled Aunt Francine, who was still staring down at Zack.

Zack took one step backward.

“Where were you?” Aunt Francine demanded.

“We went for a ride,” said Judy, stepping in front of Zack to shield him.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Judy.”

Zack didn’t like the way Aunt Francine sounded, because frankly, she sounded just like his dead mother!

“Do I know you?” asked Judy.

Aunt Francine’s lips twitched up into the most hideous smile Zack had ever seen. “We’ve never been formally introduced, but I know all about you.”

“Don’t listen to her,” cried Aunt Hannah. “That is the dybbuk speaking.”

“The what?” said Judy.

“The dybbuk,” Aunt Hannah repeated, pronouncing the word “dih-buk.”

“That’s my aunt Francine,” Zack finally blurted. “My real mother’s sister.”

“That’s right, Zachary,” said Francine. “Your real mother!”

The three sisters circled her on the porch.

“In Jewish folklore,” said Aunt Hannah, remaining incredibly calm, “a dybbuk is the malicious disembodied soul of a dead sinner that has attached itself to the body of a living relative.”

“Therefore,” said Aunt Ginny, “this woman who appears to be Zack’s aunt is currently possessed by the soul of someone dead.”

“Are you sure about all this?” asked Judy.

“Oh, yes, dearie,” said Aunt Ginny. “Quite.”

“I had to come back,” said the dybbuk. “I did not fulfill my mission in life!”

Aunt Hannah reached into a pouch tied to her belt. “Hear that? Pure dybbuk talk.”

“Oh, yes,” said Aunt Sophie. “They always say that. Blah-blah-blah ‘mission in life.’ ”

“Leave me alone!” hollered Aunt Francine. “All of you! I only came back to take care of Zack the way I should have taken care of him when I was alive!”

Zack’s jaw fell open.

He knew exactly whose spirit had taken over Aunt Francine’s body.

Susan Potter Jennings’s.

His dead mother.