Occasional Demons

by Rick Hautala

“Would you like a drink of water?“ Phyllis asked.

  I nodded and started to sit up, but I didn’t have enough strength. Smiling, Phyllis took the plastic cup of water from the table at the bedside and angled the straw into my mouth. I took a tiny sip. When I swallowed, I could tell that the water was cold, and that it tasted good, but it didn’t come even close to soothing the scratchy rawness in my throat. Everything around me seemed so distant and hollow, like I was trapped in a dream, or this was all happening to someone else and I was just watching.

  I knew I was slipping away, and I wasn’t going to be able to do anything to stop it.

  “Well then,“ Phyllis said after replacing the cup of water on the bed stand. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?“

  “The beginning...“ I said, hearing the weary drag in my voice. Every syllable of every word I said reverberated like the low echo of thunder, rolling down a long, stone canyon. “Do you mean back when I first met Arlan, or even before that?“

  “It all depends on how much you want to tell me,“ Phyllis said. “Start wherever you’d like.“

  I could tell that she was genuinely trying to be kind and gentle with me; but no matter how softly she spoke, her voice grated on my ears.

  “Why not start with what happened last night, then?“ she said.

  “You mean when Arlan and I hiked up Mt.Cadillac.“

  “Sure. Whatever you feel comfortable with,“ Phyllis said, leaning forward and looking at me. I could see the depth of concern beneath her gentle expression.

  She had a small tape recorder in her left hand, but even if I hadn’t seen it, I would have heard it running. The turning tape was making a high, steady hissing sound that actually hurt my ears. Then again, everything I saw or heard or felt seemed to hurt me. All of my perceptions were oddly heightened. It might have been the drugs they’d given me, but I didn’t think so.

  Before saying anything, I took as deep a breath as I dared, but it felt like there were dozens—hundreds of tiny pin-prick holes in my lungs. The air seemed to whistle through my chest like water through a sieve.

  “Well,“ I said softly, trying to control a sudden rush of panic, “Arlan and I had been planning this trip for quite some time, but I had just started my summer job at Bookland in Bar Harbor, right after school got out in May, so it was kind of tough for me to get a whole weekend off.“

  “How long had you—have you known Arlan?“

  “Oh, not long. We met last winter at college, at U Maine in Orono. It was January. January twenty-seventh, to be exact.“

  “I see,“ Phyllis said, nodding. “And he’s a student there, too?“

  “Uh-huh.“

  “Does he also live in Bar Harbor?“ I shook my head no, even though it hurt my neck and shoulders to make even the slightest motion. I could feel myself fading away, and I was convinced I was going to die soon, but I struggled not to let it show. Phyllis didn’t seem to be picking up on just how scared I was, either. I wanted to ask her if she thought I was dying, but I didn’t dare to.

  “No,“ I finally said. “He—Arlan’s not originally from Maine. He’s from a small town in upstate New York. It’s funny, but as many times as he’s told me the name, I can never remember what it is.“

  “So he was living in Bar Harbor for the summer, so you could be together, is that it?“

  I nodded again. In spite of my rising panic and pain, I couldn’t deny the warm rush of feeling that filled me just talking about Arlan, about how much I loved him and how much he loved me.

  But if he loved me so much, then where was he? Why had he abandoned me like this? Still smiling, Phyllis looked at me and said, “So on this camping trip—this hike...you were planning to camp overnight on the mountain, right?“

  “Uh-huh.“

  I shifted my position on the bed, but no matter what I did or where I looked, I couldn’t stop feeling all twisted up inside, like I was made of crystal and was going to break down and start crying. It hurt, just thinking about what Arlan and I had planned...and then what happened.

  “Arlan—“ I said, but then my voice cut off.

  Phyllis took the cup of water and gave me another sip so I could continue.

  “—Arlan told me he wanted to see the sunrise from the top of the mountain because—well, you live here, so you know that Mount Cadillac’s the first place on the East Coast to receive the morning sun.“

  Phyllis nodded.

  “It seemed really important to him, for some reason, to see it. Arlan’s a poet, you know. He writes beautiful poems. Some of them, he even sets to music. You should hear him sing.“

  I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to remember the lilting sound of Arlan’s voice, but it was already dim in my memory.

  “Anyway,“ I continued, “all this spring, while we were planning the overnight, he kept talking to me about the Gates of Dawn, telling me how much he wanted to see the Gates of Dawn open, and that the perfect day would be the morning of the Summer Solstice. The year’s longest day.“

  “Sunrise from the mountain is a beautiful sight,“ Phyllis said. “I’ve gone up to the summit numerous times myself. Usually when we have friends or relatives visiting. Of course, at my age, I prefer to drive up there now.“

  “Well,“ I said. I could feel myself weakening with every breath and wanted to say what I had to say. “We never made it to the top because of...what happened.“

  “And what was that?“

  “Late in the afternoon, while we were setting up the tent at our campsite a short way from the summit, Devin showed up.“

  I stopped myself and looked past her at the soft glow of sunlight outside the window.

  “Tell me about Devin,“ Phyllis said, leaning back and trying her best to look perfectly relaxed, but I could see the tension in her. “What was he doing up there?“

  The whirring of her tape recorder still hurt my ears, but there was warmth in her eyes and a caring tone in her voice that made me trust her even though I knew, no matter what I told her, she wasn’t going to be able to help. She couldn’t stop what was happening.

  I knew I was going to die.

  “I...I’m not sure,“ I said, almost whispering. “He just showed up. It was obvious that he and Arlan knew each other, but right from the start, I could sort of sense a...“ I closed my eyes for a moment. “I don’t know...something just didn’t seem right.“

  “Did Arlan tell you that he and Devin were friends?“ Phyllis asked.

  I wanted to tell her the truth, but pretty much everything that had happened yesterday and early this morning was fading too fast from my memory. Everything seemed like a dream that, while you’re having it, seems so real but then disappears the instant you wake up and try to recall it. Only fragments are left, and they usually don’t make the least bit on sense at all before they slip away like fine sand through your fingers.

  “No...no, not really,“ I replied weakly. “It was obvious they knew each other, but right away I could sense tension between them. I could tell that Arlan wasn’t all that happy when Devin asked if he could share the campsite with us that night.“

  “Was Devin alone, or was he with a friend?“

  It hurt my neck as I shook my head slowly.

  “No, it was just him.“

  “And was he outfitted for camping? I mean, did he have a backpack, sleeping bag, and cooking utensils?“

  I nodded again, but then a single, clear memory hit me so hard I must have reacted noticeably because Phyllis suddenly leaned forward and asked me what was the matter.

  “I think I remember now...“ I said almost dreamily. “He had a backpack, but not much else, not even a tent.“

  I could hear the high-pitched tremor in my voice, and that only made me feel all the more nervous.

  “Now that I think about it, it was almost like he...like he was expecting to meet us there.“

  “Did you and Arlan have a tent large enough for more than two people?“ Phyllis asked.

  “No. We
were using a small pup tent I borrowed from a friend,“ I replied, “but the funny thing is, I never even thought about it until just now. I guess Devin must have been planning on sleeping out under the stars, even though the weather wasn’t all that warm, but—don’t you think that’s kind of strange?“

  Phyllis frowned, and she hesitated before finally saying, “I’m trying to understand, but do you think it’s possible that he and Arlan might have had this ’chance encounter’ planned from the very beginning?“

  I have to be honest and say that I never felt more scared or paranoid in my life than when she made that suggestion. I slumped back on the pillow, willing myself to melt into the bed. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I tried to absorb the shock of Phyllis’ suggestion.

  What if she was right?

  What if, right from the start, Arlan and Devin had been in on it together?

  That might explain why Arlan disappeared as soon as he heard the forest rangers coming...and why he didn’t come to the hospital to see me. He must have guessed that’s where I was, so why hadn’t he come by?

  I thought then that he couldn’t have vanished the way I thought he had. I figured I must have been so scared, so traumatized by what had happened that I just imagined he disappeared—literally—into thin air.

  “You haven’t told me yet,“ Phyllis said, “what happened after Devin showed up?“

  “I—I don’t know. I can’t remember. I must’ve blacked out or something. That’s the worst part of all of this—trying to remember what it was that Devin did to me! It had all seemed so innocent at first, that Arlan and I might meet up with someone he knew while we were hiking, but the more I think about it, the less sense it seems to make.“

  I looked over at Phyllis, wishing I had the strength to grab her and clutch onto her for support. I fought the disorienting sensation that I was falling backwards, spinning head-over-heels into a bottomless, black void.

  “I grew up here in Bar Harbor,“ I whispered, trying my best to clear my mind and get a grip on things. “So how—or why—would Arlan just happen to bump into someone he knows...someone who, right from the start, acted as if he had been expecting to find us there?“

  I didn’t like this train of thought, and I really have to give Phyllis credit for giving me time to process it all, even though I didn’t come right out and tell her everything I was thinking.

  “It—it wasn’t like Arlan and I...well, I wasn’t really upset about having unexpected company, especially if it was a friend of Arlan’s. I mean, I didn’t see it as an invasion of our privacy or anything. After all, we were in a public camping area.“

  I glanced over at Phyllis and saw the understanding in her eyes, and that encouraged me to continue.

  “But Devin being there isn’t what was bothering me. There was this—I don’t know how to describe it, but there was something in the way Arlan started acting once Devin showed up that made him seem...I don’t know. Different, somehow. Now that I think about it, he was acting like he had a secret he was keeping from me—something only he and Devin knew.“

  “I’m not sure I understand,“ Phyllis said, shaking her head.

  She suddenly turned and glanced over her shoulder out the hospital window. The sunlight shining in from behind her made her hair glow with a bright halo-like effect. For a moment, I was mesmerized by the image of the bright light glowing behind her because it reminded me of how Arlan had looked just before he disappeared...and something else—something...

  Then another, clearer memory came to me.

  “The fire,“ I said in a voice so raspy and dry I could barely hear myself.

  “What?“ Phyllis said, turning and once again giving me her undivided attention.

  “I remember something about the campfire...“ My voice drifted off lazily. I closed my eyes again and clenched my fists, willing the memory to sharpen.

  “We finished pitching the tent and had spread out our gear just as the sun was setting. Before it got too dark, we decided to collect some wood for a campfire.“

  From far off in the distance, I thought I heard Phyllis murmur, “Uh-huh,“ but the memory was getting steadily clearer, and I concentrated hard, bringing it back.

  “Once it got dark, we had the fire blazing away. We’d figured that, since this was just an overnight hike, we wouldn’t bring anything to cook, but there was a stiff breeze coming in off the ocean, and the fire helped cut the chill. All we had for supper was bottled spring water, some trail-mix and fruit—apples and oranges. We all ate, but I noticed that Devin wasn’t eating much, if anything. As the woods around us got steadily darker, I noticed how the orange firelight glowed on Devin’s face, and I remember thinking two things. The first was how pale his face looked even in the firelight. His skin appeared to be absolutely white...almost translucent—“

  My voice suddenly choked off.

  Startled, I opened my eyes and looked frantically down at my own hands. A sudden icy surge of panic filled my chest and stomach when I realized that the skin on the back of my hands looked as deathly pale as Devin’s face had looked in the firelight. I wanted to cover my mouth with both hands and choke back the scream I could feel swelling up inside me, but I couldn’t. The only sound that came out of me was a strangled whimper that sounded like a puppy being tortured.

  “Relax...just relax,“ Phyllis said gently. I was barely aware of the cool touch of her hand on my forehead. “If you don’t want to talk about this, you don’t have to.“

  “I know, but I—“

  To my own ears, my voice sounded odd—so far away, I had the distinct impression that I was fading...like a receding echo.

  “You said that there were two things,“ Phyllis continued, her voice still soothing and low. She reached down and clasped my hand, but her touch felt insubstantial, as if her fingers would easily pass right through my hand if she squeezed hard enough.

  “Yes...yes,“ I said. “The campfire...the ring of light from the fire“

  I couldn’t dispel the impression that I was speaking to her from inside a long, empty corridor, and that my voice was reverberating as it faded after every word. Whenever Phyllis spoke, she sounded further away until I could hardly make out what she was saying. All I had was my instinctive feeling that she was truly trying to help me, even though I knew—ultimately—that she couldn’t do a thing to stop what was happening to me. I thought I would have to yell for her to hear me, but I barely had the strength to whisper. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t take a deep enough breath. The air I was trying to take into my lungs felt thicker, more substantial than my own body.

  “The ring of fire from the campfire,“ I said, forcing myself to concentrate carefully on every word, no matter how far away my voice sounded. The vivid image rose in my mind, and I saw flickering light—harsh lines of bright orange and thick, deep shadows, the dense darkness all around us.

  “I got up...to get another apple, I think...and I remember, as I was walking past Devin, I tripped and almost fell. That was when I noticed that...behind him...behind Devin, there wasn’t any shadow.“

  I looked up at Phyllis, my expression pleading for her to understand.

  “I know this must sound really crazy, but he—he didn’t cast a shadow! I’d stumbled, like I said, and just as I was catching my balance, I noticed that my shadow rippled across his legs and the log he was leaning against. And that was when he made his move.“

  “His move?“

  Phyllis’ words were as faint and distant as the powdery whisper of a moth’s wings as it circles ever closer to the candle flame.

  “Yes,“ I said. “It all happened so fast. I could see that he was holding something in each hand—a mallet of some sort in one hand, and a...an iron spike in the other. I was still trying to figure out what was wrong, that he really wasn’t casting a shadow when he spun around and jabbed the iron spike into the log where my shadow was. Then, with three quick swings of the mallet, he pinned my shadow to the log. Those three hammer blows so
unded like explosions going off inside my head. I lost my balance again and went down, and that...that’s all I remember.“

  The memory rushed over me like a tidal wave. I wanted to sit up in the bed and scream, but I had no strength left—no will to fight or even to live. I barely had the strength to speak. I didn’t have any idea whether or not Phyllis could hear me or if I had slipped off to sleep again, and this was all just some terrible dream—a nightmare because of the medications they’d given me or because of what had happened...because of what I had seen.

  “Are you saying he tried to steal your shadow?“ Phyllis asked, sounding absolutely incredulous.

  “Not try,“ I said with a nod. “He did.“ I wanted desperately to cry out, but my voice faltered and faded. Anyway, it didn’t matter because, no matter how loud or faintly I said it, it was the truth.

  “He...he used the iron spike to nail my shadow to the log so he could tear it off—so he could steal it from me. And that’s why I’m dying now...“

  “No, Lisa. You’re not dying.“ The voice that spoke wasn’t Phyllis’. The instant I heard it, I knew who it was.

  “Arlan?“

  My vision blurred as I looked up. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I had a clear memory that I was—and still should have been—in the hospital emergency room where I’d been brought that morning; and very faintly, at the fringes of my vision, I caught transparent glimpses of the walls of the hospital room. Hazy images of the cabinets on the far wall, loaded with medical supplies drifted in and out of focus, but directly in front of me, standing at the foot of the bed, was a wide, glowing opening, like a doorway beyond which there was an incredibly intense, blinding white light.

  This is it! I’m dying!

  That was my first, terror-filled thought.

  I’ve read stories about near-death experiences, how a person sometimes finds him or herself in a corridor or tunnel suffused with bright light, and people they’ve known and loved who have died before are there to greet them.

  I felt like that now.

  I was suddenly weightless, floating above or beyond my body. And in the center of this blaze of white light was a dark silhouette, approaching me. With the nimbus of white light playing like the aurora borealis behind him, it was impossible for me to see his face, but I knew in an instant it was Arlan. I could feel him smiling at me...and I knew in my heart that he still loved me.