Part Twelve
THE HEATHENS ARE  EXPELLED

When Barbara next visited the storeroom, she found a group of Entities outside the bead curtain.
“Heathens!” she cried as she recognized them, then corrected herself, for they didn’t like the name. “I mean, Pre-Christian European Entities! What are you doing here? You know it’s forbidden to leave the storeroom.”
“It’s your fault.” Most groups began their discussions with her in that way. “Calling us Heathens. The expulsion committee made us leave because we’re idol-worshippers.”
Though she made comforting noises, she was secretly glad they’d been expelled. The storeroom was seriously overcrowded, and some African newcomers were impatient for a place.
“Who’s on the expulsion committee?”
“Saint Jude,” said Minvra.
“Who else?”
“No one. But we can’t go back inside and it’s Tribal Music tonight.” The Fat Lady from Malta and Venus both started to cry.
She’d have to have a word with Saint Jude, who was getting very high-handed.
“Why don’t you just walk back in?” she asked. There was silence. Those that had heads shook them while the Triskelion made a mournful rattle.
“It’s the Poltergeist,” said Minevra, pointing to a small amorphous shape behind the bead curtain. Barbara had never seen it before.
“Who are you?” she asked it.
“It can’t talk. It just whistles and makes stupid noises, then kicks us if we try to go back inside.”
“But how did it get here?” asked Barbara. “I never brought a Poltergeist into the storeroom.” She watched the eight-legged Sleipnir trying to enter. The Poltergeist kicked him savagely. The Slav Mythological Beings attempted to charge from above, but the Poltergeist pushed them outside again.
She entered the storeroom, grabbed the Poltergeist, and stuffed it into her Reject Box. It made a few whistling sounds, then was silent. She was worried about this new and unpleasant Entity, wondering where it had come from, but more pressing decisions should be made before she started enquiring about its provenance.
She had been going to use the stands at the entry for lighting, but having the Heathens there would make more space inside, so she smiled at them. “I’m going to give you special permission to stay here, and you can come inside for Tribal Music Night. The Poltergeist can’t hurt you now.”
They talked amongst themselves and agreed. Barbara left them and went to look for Saint Jude. Who did he think he was? God? She was going to transfer him to the inconsequential little Charms. A week or two with them should cure him of his arrogance.