by Kris Calvert
“So she was a normal human being stuck in an insane asylum?”
She was an epileptic, but she was far from insane.
I searched my mind trying to piece together everything that had happened on Park Ave and wondered how it could possibly relate to Beatrice. “But how did she get in my house?”
“I don’t know that she is in your house. Beatrice disappeared in nineteen twenty just as a huge scandal broke in Baltimore.”
“What kind of scandal?”
“A man by the name of Benjamin Lupus—”
“Lupus.” I audibly gasped, thinking of the smudged name on the original plans.
“So you know who I’m speaking of.”
I shook my head. “No. But I think he built this house.”
“I know he built this house. Miss Lovelace, there are many who think some grave injustices took place here.”
“Here?” I said pointing to the floor. “Here at my house?”
Lester nodded. “Years ago, girls and even a few boys, were taken from Rosewood and brought before a judge that had been more than likely paid off, who deemed them sane enough to go into the world—provided they had guardians.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Prominent families in and around Baltimore were adopting the girls into their homes, but not as family members—as indentured servants. The entire scheme was worked out between the medical director, Dr. Boris Geistig and Benjamin Lupus.”
“What are you saying? That the man who lived here—Lupus—had girls in his home from Rosewood?”
“When it was discovered what was going on Boris was gone and Lupus had no legal ties to any girls. When he was questioned, he had no girls in his home.”
“But…”
“Miss Lovelace, that doesn’t mean that he didn’t have girls here. It only means he covered his tracks well.”
I nodded.
“They searched for those that had left Rosewood. There were over one hundred and sixty.”
“He used the girls—” I muttered as I thought through every incident that had taken place in the house.
“Dr. Gold left Rosewood immediately and began his search for Beatrice.”
“But he never found her…” A whisper was all I could manage. “Because she was here.”
The doorbell rang again and I stared into Lester’s face. “Fuck me you feeble minded cunt.” I muttered the words with a nod, remembering them as they fell from the mouth of the drooling man.
“I beg your pardon?”
“It’s something I heard,” I said as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. The doorbell sounded again and I looked to the grandfather clock. It was seven on the nose. I knew it would be Jess and Magda.
I hurried to the door as to not leave them standing in the rain. “Come in,” I said opening the door wide, allowing them to rush inside and out of the cold, wet night. “Um…hello.” Jess reacted to the surprise on my face as I looked at the three of them. Jess and Magda weren’t alone.
“I’m sorry,” I began as I extended my hand to the older gentleman. “I’m Eliza Lovelace. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”
He took off his dark coat and I became acutely aware of who they’d brought along with them. “It’s nice to meet you, Eliza. I’m Father Gilfoyle.”
“Father Gilfoyle is here to help us tonight, Liz,” Jess said with a bright, fake smile. She knew I’d be upset, to say the least, if she’d planned some sort of ritual in my house without consulting me, and yet it seemed as if she’d done that very thing.
“This is Lester Searing,” I said as they all followed me into the parlor. “He’s the head of the Gold Foundation here in Baltimore. And an expert on Dr. Edmund Gold.”
Everyone took a seat and I felt as if it was my duty to catch them all up on what was going on. “So just to brief everyone, Lester knows all about the man, Edmund Gold—who we heard about the other night while I was in some sort of trance, drawing my little heart out. And speaking of drawing, Ray has drawn a portrait of Dr. Gold himself—of course he didn’t know at the time who or what he was drawing because he did it all while he was sleepwalking. Now, Magda here believes there’s a demon in my house and maybe that’s true because my boyfriend became possessed today and I’ve had to kick his butt—again. What I’d really like to do is connect with Beauty, the one person who seems to give a rat’s ass about me, but I think you guys are hell bent, no pun intended, on conjuring up a demon tonight. Also, I think I know where the demon came from.”
I took a deep breath and looked around the room at the stunned faces of everyone, including the swollen face of the man I loved, who’d joined the crowd mid-lecture. “Did I leave anything out?” I asked.
“Lizzie,” Jess began. “We believe you are in danger.”
“I think you’re in danger too,” Ray said through his swollen lip. “If I have another episode like today, one of us is going to die.”
Father Gilfoyle was quiet, as was Lester. “What? Neither of you have anything to add?” I asked, my voice on full tilt. “And where are Martin and Craig? Did all of this become too much for the demon and ghost hunters to handle?”
“In a word?” Magda asked. “Yes. But that doesn’t change what we’re here to accomplish tonight.”
Dropping my shoulders with a sigh, I looked to the new faces that had taken their place.
“Part of me is scared for you, Miss Lovelace,” Lester said. “The other part wants to understand Beauty—if she is at peace, but—”
“But what?”
“I’m worried about the price you may have to pay for the privilege of knowing,” said Lester.
“As am I,” the priest added. “Miss Lovelace, I’d like to ask you some questions. I’ve read the case file, I’ve listened to the recordings, but what I really want is to visit with you for a little while and…”
“And what Father? Because with all due respect, I had no idea you were coming tonight.” My body and mind were filled with every human emotion possible and it felt as if they were uncontrollably spilling out all at once.
“I’d like to listen,” the Father said.
“Listen to what?” I asked, walking away from the circle of people that had formed around me.
“Eliza,” Father Gilfoyle called to me. “I don’t want to scare you my child. I want to help you.”
“Help me?”
Father Gilfoyle walked away from the others to follow me. “I think you could be in grave danger Miss Lovelace,” he said bringing his voice down, placing his hand squarely on my shoulder. I said nothing and waited for him to continue. “Evil is tricky. It disguises itself as many things—many appealing things. People think they can open a box—you know, take the lid off of evil and just peak into it. But it doesn’t work that way. Once the box is open, it’s open.”
“Are you saying I let all of this out?” I asked matching his quiet tone. The last think I wanted was for Ray to be even more concerned for me.
“I’m saying whatever evil lurks in this house, it’s drawn here for a reason. Malevolence seeks it’s own. Now I don’t know what went on in your home many years ago, but whatever it is more than likely got stirred up the moment you started jackhammering walls and floors. Maybe it’s been dormant, maybe it’s always been here and for some reason you and your husband brought it forth into the world.”
“He’s my boyfriend. Why would you think that we brought it into the world? I mean other than the renovations?”
“Magda has explained to me that you and your boyfriend are artists.”
“Yes. So?”
“I’m taking a guess, but I’d bet that you are both highly sensitive. You pick up on things. Quite possibly you are the first who could—for the lack of a better term—hear what others couldn’t.”
I stared into his wrinkled eyes. Father Gilfoyle had seen some rough days by the look of the deep creases in his brow. If I was sensitive as he said, what I was picking up from him was that he gen
uinely wanted to help me. “The thing is, Father. Before we moved into this house, I never believed in ghosts, or demons. So why would a spirit from beyond think I was a good messenger?”
“You don’t have to always believe in what you can’t see, my child. Especially if someone or something believes in you. That notion, that urge—that’s faith. Something drew you to this home. Now something evil wants to drive you from it, or worse. Let’s not let that happen.”
I nodded and looked over his shoulder at the others. Everyone had a concerned look on their face, but wouldn’t look directly at me. It was as if they were all at a funeral and didn’t know what to say to the family of the deceased and I was feeling a little bit like the corpse.
“So now what, Father? Now what do we do?”
“A demonic presence cannot haunt a house, but it is attracted to evil. The evil transpired in this house can’t be undone but we can banish the demon back to hell.”
“That’s it? I can’t leave it behind? I can’t run from it?”
“I’m saying we have to draw it out, give it something to inhabit. Only then can we cleanse the house of it.”
“And by inhabit, you mean me.”
Father Gilfoyle pursed his lips. “It seems as if you are the primary target.”
I nodded. “Am I going to come out of this alive?”
“We have God on our side, Miss Lovelace. If God is for us, who can be against us?”
I nodded, finding strength from within. “Let’s do this.”
“Mr. Searing are you a believer?” the Father asked.
Lester nodded.
“Have you been baptized?”
Lester nodded again.
“Then you may remain if you wish, but stay out of the way. And if I tell you to pray, you damn well better pray.”
“Eliza,” Magda began. “I would take your place on this, but—”
“You don’t want a demon coming into your soul?” I asked Magda, quickly turning on my heels to the priest. “You know, Father, if this thing—this demon wants me. Why does it continue to show itself through Ray?”
“Ray is simply a way to get to you. Otherwise, you’ve protected yourself.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Something on your person, something you possess is providing you with protection. A Saint Michael medallion, a cross around your neck—something.”
I shook my head.
“Lizzie think,” Jess said. “Is there anything you’ve picked up around here that isn’t yours? Something you keep with you?
I looked to my wrist and the red cord jumbled in with the many bracelets I always wore and rarely took off. “It can’t be.”
“What can’t be?” Jess asked moving closer.
“I ah…I found this little piece of red cord in the rose garden the night I fell—or I should say, the night I was pushed, I picked it up and tied it to my wrist. It’s been here with all the other bracelets the whole time.”
“You’ve been under someone’s protection.”
I looked to Lester. “Did Beauty wear a red string around her wrist?”
I watched Lester’s eye’s glisten as if pieces of a long lost puzzle were coming together. “She did. It was a frayed piece of red cording from her mother’s coat.”
Lester hadn’t even finished his sentence when the banging began on the third floor—always in threes.
“Now’s the time to stay or go, Mr. Searing,” Magda said as she placed a chair in the center of the room and Jess began to pull towels and restraints from the duffle bag on her shoulder.
“I’ll stay,” he said. “I’ll stay for Edmund.”
Father Gilfoyle nodded as he began to gather his things and don his priestly garb. Kissing his stole, he placed it around his neck as he prayed to himself.
Jess looked at me and for the first time since I’d known her, had real fear in her eyes.
“So what now?” I asked. “I mean, I’ve seen Linda Blair’s head do a three-sixty thing. Is that what’s in store for me? Because I don’t know if I’m up for it.”
Magda grabbed my arm and my body vibrated as if I was sitting in the thousand-fingers chair at Sharper Image. A powerful energy emanated from her body and I could feel it all the way to my core—to the essence of my being. “Clear your mind of everyone and everything, Eliza. His power is your greatest fear, his motivation is your surrender.”
I couldn’t catch my breath. Watching Jess retrofit an armchair as a restraining device, the idea of what I was doing was suddenly upon me. I looked to Ray who could only shake his head.
“Come with me,” Jess said as she finished up. “We need to get you into some clothes that are more conducive for…let’s just get you into something comfortable.”
I stood to leave the room, touching the chair with my hand as if to connect to my fate. “Don’t do this,” Ray said. “Please.”
In my head, I’d prayed every prayer I’d ever known over and over as I exchanged my clothes and shoes for yoga pants and a t-shirt while Jess watched and the banging continued over our heads in the master bedroom.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was bringing a priest with me tonight.”
I stared at her but didn’t say a word. I was numb—in both mind and body.
“It’s just—this isn’t going to end. It’s only going to get worse unless we stop it in its tracks. Whatever evil lies in this house—Liz, it’s almost as if it’s been waiting for you and Ray to arrive. Are you listening to what I’m saying to you?”
I nodded, still running an Our Father through my head.
“Magda says that we have to draw the demonic presence out and into someone in order to get rid of it.”
“And I’m the bait. I know. I went over all of this with Father Gilfoyle.”
“I don’t want you to think of yourself as bait,” Jess sighed. “If we don’t do this now, you could end up…”
“Spit it out, Jess.” I felt a sudden rush of courage and didn’t know if it was from praying or just plain stupidity.
“Put it this way, I want to come to your wedding, not your funeral.”
“What are you even saying?” I asked as I sat on the end of the bed and looked her straight in the eye.
“I’m saying evil is here. It’s not uncommon for people who renovate old houses to unleash things they had no intention of releasing. It just happens.”
“If I’m doomed then what’s the point of all this?”
“You’re not doomed,” Jess replied as she sat beside me, cradling my shoulder in her hand. “You’re about to be saved.”
I looked her in the face as Ray knocked and opened the door. “They’re ready downstairs.” His face was pale with apprehension. “Jess, I’d like a moment alone with Liz, if you don’t mind.”
Jess stood and walked away. She knew I was upset with her and yet I could tell she felt as if I had no choice but to go through with tonight’s plan. In all the years we’d been together, she’d never steered me wrong. Not with men, not with school, not with my career. I knew she had my best interests at heart. It was just difficult to hear, knowing I could lose everything tonight—including my soul.
Ray passed Jess without giving her a glance and knelt at my feet, taking both of my hands in his before dropping his head. “You know you don’t have to go through with this. We can just leave. We’ll leave Park Avenue and never look back. We’ll get whatever we can out of the damn place and move on with our lives.”
I ran my hands through his thick sandy waves and smiled. I really did love Ray, even in spite of all our ups and downs. It seemed fitting that our worst shared experience would end up being the one that truly made us a couple.
“Magda and Father Gilfoyle have said leaving won’t make a difference. Whatever’s here has already followed me into the truck and tried to kill me.”
Ray looked up at me with his blue eyes sparkling with emotion. “I can’t lose you, Lizzie. I can’t.”
I said the two words I knew he ne
eded to hear—I only wished I believed them myself. “You won’t.”
I straightened my shirt across my body, waiting to be strapped in. I’d removed all my jewelry with the exception of the red cord around my wrist—there was nothing on my person that could physically hurt me or anyone else.
Looking up to the man I loved, I nodded as a tear spilled from my eye. “I’m not going down without a fight.”
Ray knelt at my feet as Jess began buckling me in. Each leg was strapped to a leg of the chair, each arm the same. A large restraint went across my shoulders hugging me tightly. I was suddenly aware of how a child must feel in a car seat.
Kissing me on the forehead and then the lips, Ray held my face in his hands and did his best to smile. “When this is over, we are starting our life together. Now and forever, ’til death do us part. Do you understand me?”
I nodded. “Did you just propose to me while I’m strapped to a chair?”
Tears glistened in his eyes and he mustered a smile. “Well, I thought you might be a flight risk if you knew I wanted to be your husband. I thought this was best.”
“You and me,” I said.
“You and me.”
Magda took Ray’s place in front of me and immediately began speaking to the spirits in the house.
I did as I was told. Closing my eyes, I cleared my mind. In the background I could hear the group talking while I concentrated solely on the sound of my own breathing.
Like a swift kick to the gut, all the air in my body left me in one measured breath. I’d been discarded and I shed the skin of my physical body, easily slipping from its ties. The voices below me were loud, but fading quickly. I was not dead, but not alive—I was somewhere in between, hovering over what was and what could be.
