by John Tigges
Nicole shuddered and Myles held up one hand for the priest to stop. “Are you saying that Nicole and I are possessed?”
Father Maskey shook his head. “Nothing of the kind. There are many steps that have to be satisfied or taken before such a decision is reached. First of all, I question whether or not either or both of you are or could be possessed. Based on what you’ve told me, it sounds as though you’re describing disturbances caused by the Evil One—or Satan—or Lucifer—whatever you want to call him. Such disturbances are an interpretation that falls just short of what the Catholic Church defines as possession or actual control by the devil of a person’s body and mind.”
“How many steps are you talking about, Father? How long will it take to determine just what our problem is?” Myles turned to Nicole, who nodded, expressing her own sense of doubt and mixed emotions.
“In the past, hundreds of years ago, many times people who were suffering from common ordinary ailments were subjected to the awful rigors of exorcism. I …”
“Wait a minute, Father,” Nicole said. “What do you mean by common ordinary ailments?”
“We’d think of them as being pretty commonplace by today’s standards of medicine and psychiatry. But in the Dark Ages and before, right up to the introduction of modern psychiatry in the nineteenth century, people who suffered from some form of psychosis could have been diagnosed as being possessed by the devil.”
Looks of astonishment crossed both their faces.
“Such as?” Myles asked.
“Such as impotence for example. If a man could not perform sexually, it was thought the devil had rendered him thus. Ordinary little fears, which would be ignored or at the worst handled during a visit to a psychiatrist today, would result in banishment or exorcism. Pretty scary stuff when viewed by today’s standards.”
“And you’re saying,” Myles said, “that psychiatry did away with all of that?”
“Let’s say, the advances made by medicine and psychiatry caused the Church to fall back and reappraise the situation and condition of possession. Today, before anything can be done by the Church, medical and psychiatric evaluations must be made. There are certain conditions that have to be met before one can be officially declared by the Church as being possessed by the devil or an evil spirit. If a person expresses a knowledge of hidden things —by hidden I mean not generally known to the average person or unspoken thoughts of someone—it is classified as being extraordinary and one step or condition is more or less fulfilled. If the person suspected of being possessed suddenly speaks in a language that is completely unknown to that person, then something is obviously out of place, wouldn’t you say? I don’t mean just a few words. Someone could pick up a phrase or two of, say, German for example, just by watching a movie or television. What I’m saying is that a person who could carry on a conversation in a foreign language such as Greek or Iranian or Japanese without any prior knowledge or experience or memory of ever having spoken such a language, then …” His voice trailed off when he saw the people sitting opposite him understood.
Myles and Nicole looked at each other but remained quiet.
“Then, there is the phenomena of, how should I say, mind over matter? Unusual occurrences. Flying objects whenever the person is around. The person in question levitating or …”
“Oh, boy!” Myles groaned the two words.
“What is it, Myles?” Father Maskey asked.
“Nicole has levitated twice that I’ve seen. The furniture has been strewn around the apartment like a tornado went through.”
“I remember Nicole saying that. But let’s not go off jousting with windmills before we know what we’re up against.”
“But isn’t that out of the ordinary, Father? Nicole floating around in midair?”
“Of course it is. But you’re jumping to conclusions if you’re saying that she is possessed because of it.”
“What else could it be?”
“Saints have been known to levitate while praying intently. It’s been documented. And that hardly seems to be the work of the devil. Besides, you have to remember there are quite a few steps to making a decision one way or the other. We must move slowly on this thing. At this point, we don’t know what it is we’re up against. That hasn’t been determined. It could be possession but I doubt that very much. If I had to bet, I’d put my money on disturbances by the Evil One. Right now, I think we had best think .in that direction. All right?”
Myles nodded and Nicole relaxed after glancing at him.
“What’s our first step, then, Father?” he asked.
“First of all, I can only do so much. Remember, I’m not an exorcist and there will be someone a lot more qualified than I, who will be involved. Of course, that’s assuming that what you have is a true case of possession, disturbances or something akin to it.”
“Akin to it? What else could it be?” Nicole asked.
“Other than disturbances by the Evil One, which is I’m sure a new one to you, you’ve both heard of poltergeists, haven’t you? Playful ghosts or however it is translated from German. It could be something like that. It could be a case of obsession, wherein Nicole’s subconscious mind would be responsible because of her having performed the ritual. It could be just a good old-fashioned ghost trying to get your attention.”
“A ghost?” Myles and Nicole said together.
“For lack of a better word. If one is to believe in the immortal soul of man, one almost must accept the possibility of a wayward soul once in a while. But first we must determine if your case is real.”
“It’s real, all right, Father,” Myles said, turning to Nicole for confirmation.
She nodded.
“I’m not doubting that you believe it’s real. What I’m saying is I have to witness something that will convince the chancery office to have a full-fledged exorcist take a look. Then both of you will have to have a complete medical examination and consult with a psychiatrist who will be chosen by the diocese.
“But, we are getting ahead of ourselves with that sort of talk. First things first. When can I visit your apartment? If I determine that a real entity of some sort is present in your home, I’ll have to report the facts to the bishop.”
“Then what?” Myles asked.
“Then the Church starts doing the things I outlined before.”
“Just how long will all of this take, Father?” Myles asked, his voice failing to hide his frustration.
Maskey stood. “I suppose something like this could drag on for quite some time.”
“What? Days? Weeks? Months? What, Father?”
Maskey shrugged. “There have been instances I’ve read about that took only a few days. Others, though, took months and even,” he paused, “years.”
“Oh, fine. And we’re supposed to put up with all of this during that time?”
“If you don’t like it, move,” Father Maskey said.
Nicole’s eyebrows shot up.
“What? Just like that? Move and leave the devil behind. Is that it?” Myles glared at the priest.
“To be. quite honest,” Maskey said, “it sounds as if the apartment you live in is more the victim than either of you. Neither one of you is suffering from malnutrition or loss of sleep to any great degree. You’re not physically deteriorating in any way that I can see. It could very easily be just your apartment.”
“We’ve already tried to check out the lease. We found it written in some foreign … language,” Myles said slowly when he realized the full impact of his statement.
“Let’s not panic,” Father Maskey said. “Remember. First things first. Let’s make that the order of the day. All right?”
Myles and Nicole stood.
“Look, Father,” Myles said as they moved toward the front of the house. “Unless something happens darn soon, I’ll drive the damn thing out myself.”
Maskey stopped, turning to face him. “And how would you go about doing that?”
“I’ve got the crucifi
x you blessed and the medals. I can get some holy water at any Catholic Church. But I’ll do it myself, if necessary. I don’t want any delay on this. When are you going to come over?”
“First,” Father Maskey said, “I’ve got to contact the chancery office and tell them that I’m going to visit your home. I’ll also tell them everything that both of you have told me.”
“Can we get together again today?” Myles asked, persistent in his intent.
“Let me check,” Father Maskey said, pulling a small appointment book from his jacket pocket. “I’ve got an appointment every hour right up until noon. Suppose I come this afternoon about four. I’m free the rest of the day and evening and we can have at it. Is that all right with the two of you?”
Nicole nodded and Myles said, “Yes. But …”
“No buts about it, Myles,” the priest said. “I want your promise that you’ll not do anything regarding this situation. Will you promise?”
Myles hesitated for a long minute before looking up at him. “I … I guess so, Father.”
“Fine.” He handed Myles a small card and said, “Write down your address. I’ll be there right at four, this afternoon.”
After giving him the address, Myles and Nicole went to the car and got in.
“For the first time, I think we might be getting somewhere,” she said.
He turned the engine over and let it idle for several seconds before pulling away from the curb. “Yeah. I just hope he can do something for us.”
Father Maskey returned to his office after closing the front door. Picking up the telephone, he dialed a number and waited while it rang.
“Chancery office. Mrs. McPherson.”
“Mrs. McPherson, this is Father Maskey. Is Father Pins in?”
“One moment.” The line went dead for several seconds before she came back on the line. “Go ahead, Father Maskey.”
“Joe? Chuck Maskey. How you doing?”
“Fine. What’s up?”
“Let me tell you and then you decide if I should talk with the bishop.”
3:57 P.M.
Myles checked his watch again. Three minutes to four. Would the priest show up? Since leaving Maskey’s office that morning, they had aimlessly driven around town, stopping several times for coffee, then lunch. By unspoken yet mutual agreement, they had not gone near the apartment building. At three forty-five, they had parked in front of the main entrance to wait for Father Maskey to arrive.
“I’m glad we didn’t go in,” she said. “I’m afraid you might have tried to do something.”
“Like?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just glad that we waited for Father to come here.”
“He’s got one minute,” he said, looking at his watch again. “If he doesn’t …”
“Is that him?” she asked, interrupting him.
They watched the small Chevy turn into a parking place across the street. Both sighed when they saw the black-suited man get out. He half-ran, half-walked across the street toward their car and was about to walk by when he noticed them getting out.
“There you are. Haven’t you gone inside?”
“We thought it better to wait for you,” Nicole said.
“It’s probably for the better. Shall we go?”
Myles took Nicole’s arm and they hurried toward the lobby. Holding the door open after unlocking it, Myles stepped in after Nicole and the priest had entered. The smell of fresh paint assailed them, and when they saw the elevator was out of order, they began the climb to the third floor.
Just as they reached the entrance to Nicole’s and Myles’ home, the door to the next apartment opened and a woman stepped out. After locking her door, she noticed them for the first time and, startled, said, “Hello.”
The trio answered in kind and then the woman stopped, peering at Nicole.
“Did you hear the commotion outside this morning?”
Nicole shot a quick look at Myles who stared at the woman. Would she accuse them of something now—in front of Father Maskey?
“Commotion?” Nicole asked, biding for time.
“Yes. Some fool in a white suit was yelling at the top of his voice in front of the building.”
“No,” Nicole lied. “I … we didn’t hear anything like that. Did we, Myles?”
Myles shook his head.
“I have no idea who it was, but he sounded like he was preaching. There were several others there, too, but I couldn’t make out who they were. At any rate, I called the police but the rascal got away before they arrived.”
“Was that it?” Myles asked. “Nothing else?”
“No. But that was certainly enough. Ever since my Waldo died, I hear every little out-of-place noise in the building. Well, I must be going. ‘Bye.”
They watched the woman hurry toward the steps, muttering under her breath about the elevator being out of order.
“Are you ready, Father?” Myles asked, thrusting the key into the lock.
Father Maskey opened the book he carried, balancing it on one hand, while he withdrew a vial of holy water from his coat pocket. “Ready,” he said softly.
Myles turned the key and opened the door. “Well, for crying out loud,” he said hoarsely. “Look at that!”
Nicole stepped closer to Myles and looked over his shoulder. The furniture all sat in place. The books and papers were all back together, and the awful smell that had filled the room was not evident.
“What is it?” Father Maskey asked.
“Everything is in order. The place was a mess when we left this morning with Reverend Stangood,” Nicole said.
“Was he the one the lady was talking about in the hall?” Father Maskey asked.
Myles nodded, stepping inside. Maskey followed and Nicole quietly closed the door behind her.
“Don’t you find it strange that Mrs. Bellasco from next door hasn’t heard anything out of the ordinary? Especially coming from my apartment?” Nicole asked.
“She must have heard the stereo and TV the times they blasted out,” Myles said, looking to the priest for some sort of explanation.
Father Maskey shrugged. “These things can be pretty strange at times. I’m sure because the woman says she didn’t hear something doesn’t necessarily mean that it didn’t take place.”
“Then, too,” Myles said, “she admitted calling the police this morning when Stangood was ranting and raving in front. More than likely she was the one who reported you that time when the police called when the TV and stereo acted up.”
“Would you like to get that book for me, Nicole? I’d like to see it,” Maskey asked, relaxing just a bit.
The sound of hissing punctuated his request and the three people exchanged quick glances at each other.
“What is that?” Nicole whispered. “I’ve never heard anything like that before. Have you, Myles?”
Myles nodded. “It sounds like water hissing on hot metal or steam escaping. What’s it sound like to you, Father?”
Maskey was just about to speak when Nicole turned to face him. Her short scream pierced the quiet. Pointing behind the priest, she waited until the two men turned in that direction before crying out again. The door to the hall was fading from sight. The sizzling sound came from it, as the entrance disappeared.
Without waiting, Myles shouted, “Quick. To the kitchen.” He dashed through the living room to the kitchenette, stopping in his tracks.
The door that led to the service hall and rear entrance was gone. Disappeared. He turned to face Nicole and the priest. Before he could say anything, the slamming of doors, of clanging metal plates being driven home, banged through the apartment. When they entered the living room, they found heavy, steel plates materializing from nothing, jamming into the openings of the windows.
They were trapped in the darkened apartment.
17
Saturday, December 6, 1986 4:07 P.M.
The awful quiet complemented the heavy darkness pressing in on Father Maskey, Nicole and
Myles. No one moved. No one uttered a sound for fear of arousing the entity’s wrath. How could such things as disappearing doors and steel plates that formed from nothing suddenly happen? How powerful was this demon? Barely breathing, the three stood their ground, unable to move because of the Stygian blackness enveloping them.
Nicole’s stomach heaved. She wanted to cry but bit her lip. All of this was her fault. If she had not performed that stupid ceremony, none of this would be happening right now.
The full implication of Myles’ return and the way it was connected to the book and the ritual and with the black space she found herself standing in right now overwhelmed her, and she lost the battle to keep from crying. Her plaintive wail wormed its way through the dark.
“Nicole?” Myles whispered hoarsely. “Are you all right?”
“Ye … yes,” she sobbed. “All … of this is … is my … my fault!”
“I don’t think it’s the right time to hang blame for any of this on anyone,” Father Maskey said quietly.
“Take my hand,” Myles said, groping in the dark for Nicole’s. When they touched, she grabbed his in a tight, vise-like grip. Pulling her closer, he put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her sobbing body to his.
She must have felt vulnerable in the dark, weak, helpless. How could Nicole accept the blame for any of this? If he, Myles, had not walked out on her the way he did, she would not have felt compelled to resort to some magical perversion—some bit of evil, black magic from a dark, bygone era. If anyone was to blame, it was he. When he drew that conclusion, he pulled Nicole even closer and she responded by throwing both arms around him.
“Father is right, Nicole,” Myles said gently. “I feel strongly that you are not to blame for this. If anyone gets that particular honor, it’s me. I walked out on you and …”
“I don’t know about you two,” Father Maskey said, breaking into Myles’ admission, “but I’m tired of standing around in the dark. Why don’t one of you try turning on the lights?”
