The Power: Berkeley Blackfriars Book Two

by J. R. Mabry

  “So, it’s not a hierarchy,” Kat reasoned. “So, what provides the connection to God?”

  Susan smiled, “The Holy Spirit—who resides in everyone—is the power of God, is God. Protestants just tap into that Power directly.”

  “Isn’t the Holy Spirit in Catholics, too?” Kat asked, cocking her head.

  “Oh yes,” Susan replied. “I think the Holy Spirit is in everyone, no matter what their religion.”

  “So why can’t Catholics tap into it directly, like Protestants do?” Kat asked.

  Susan leaned over and whispered conspiratorially. “They can. They do, all the time.”

  “So, why couldn’t the guys do this exorcism?” Kat asked.

  “That’s easy,” Susan said, pulling along a tree-lined curb and parking. “It’s because they didn’t think they could.”

  “You make them sound like The Little Engine That Could,” Kat laughed.

  “Well, more like The Little Engine That Couldn’t,” Susan agreed. “Do you mean that Terry hasn’t given you his ‘paradigmatic contextualization’ speech yet?”

  “No,” Kat said, her eyebrows raising. “Should I be glad?”

  “No,” Susan said, opening the car door. “You’ll think it’s cool.”

  “I take it we’re here?” Kat asked, opening her own door and stepping out.

  “This is the address on Dylan’s contacts file.” Susan opened the trunk and pulled out Dylan’s kit bag.

  “Do we have a plan?” Kat asked.

  “Knock on the door. Remind God of his promises. Kick demon’s butt,” Susan said.

  “What do you mean, ‘remind God of his promises’?”

  “God promised to deliver us from evil,” Susan shrugged.

  “Why do you need to remind him?” Kat asked. “Doesn’t God know everything?”

  “Well, you’d think so,” Susan said. “But in actual practice, sometimes God needs a kick in the head.”

  “Really? That sounds…weird.” Kat looked skeptical.

  “It is. But Luther did it a lot. You’ve got to call God on his shit sometimes. It’s part of having a real relationship with him.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of…pissing him off?”

  “What kind of relationship would we have if I couldn’t say what I think, or get mad, or tell him off now and then, especially if he’s slouching?” Susan asked.

  “Okay…” Kat breathed, marveling at how disorienting life in the order could be sometimes, even after six months. “And you’ve never done this…exorcism thing…before?”

  “No. So?”

  “And you’re not afraid?”

  “What’s to be scared of?” Susan said calmly. “I know exactly who I belong to.”

  Kat slammed the trunk closed and looked up at Susan, mouth agape. “Dude, you so fucking rock.”

  29

  TERRY’S NOSTRILS flared as he fought his own internal recoil at the smell. Nursing homes always had this effect on him. He signed in at the desk and gave the nurse seated behind it a friendly wave. He knew that with his tonsure and black cassock no one would question him. He glanced at the room number on his smartphone and picked a direction at random to seek it out.

  It was not hard to find, and in a few moments Terry knocked on the wood of the open door. “Madeline?” he called.

  An old woman was sitting up in bed, an oxygen strap beneath her nose. She had been looking at the green outside the window, but now she turned to Terry. “Have you come to take my food away?” she asked.

  Terry didn’t see any food, so he shook his head. “No, Sweetie. I’m just here to see you.” He sidled up to her bed and gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

  “Are you God?” she asked.

  Terry laughed. “I hope not! If I am, we’re all in trouble.”

  She seemed confused by this, as if she weren’t sure whether to be comforted or disturbed by the news. Terry noticed and spoke quickly to reassure her. “I’m Father Terry. Pastor Oberlin is away—he’s had a family emergency—so I’m here instead. Is that okay?”

  She seemed pleased by that. “You’re very nice,” she said.

  “I do try,” Terry said, giving her a wink.

  “I didn’t want to come back,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” Terry said. “Didn’t want to come back from where?”

  “I was going to the movies,” she said. “All my friends were there already.” She looked toward the window and held her hand up as if trying to touch someone.

  “When was this?” Terry asked, thinking that it had probably been a very long time since Madeline had been sufficiently ambulatory to go to the movies.

  “Last night, of course,” she said as if he should know better.

  “Of course,” he agreed, feigning a look of being chastened.

  “But the man at the door wouldn’t let me in,” she said, dropping her voice in what could only have been sadness and disappointment.

  “Why not?” Terry asked.

  “I didn’t have a ticket.” She looked up at Terry and he noted that her eyes were watery. “I wish I had a ticket. They were all waiting for me.”

  Terry opened his mouth to ask Madeline if perhaps she had dreamed this, when the true significance of what she was saying hit him. He closed his mouth and took her hand in his. He swallowed hard and fought back his own tears.

  “Oh my dear,” he said. “It’s just fine. Your friends are waiting for you, but they’re not impatient. They are having a great time, and they will be eager to see you whenever you get there. And I happen to know that when the time is right, you will receive your ticket.” Now the tears came for real. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t try.

  “Do you promise?” she asked him, squeezing his hand like a vise.

  “I promise,” he said. “I have some experience with…this kind of thing. In fact”—he leaned in and whispered—“I’m on a first-name basis with some angels.” He squeezed her hand back. “So, I can tell you with some authority that there’s nothing you need to do but just relax and give thanks.” He sat on the edge of the bed, adjusting his cassock.

  She let go of his hand and patted it. “Good, because the plays here are pretty good.”

  “The plays?” Terry asked. “They have plays here? In the nursing home?”

  “Yes!” she said, her eyes growing wide. “They’re silent plays. I got to play a role. They star in them, usually.” She pointed to her roommates, two of whom were either in comas or in a very deep sleep. Terry didn’t think it likely that any of them were up to engaging in the thespian’s craft.

  “So…what happens in the plays?” Terry asked.

  “Well, in one there was a campfire, on a low dais. And on the stones was a coffee pot, like the kind that cowboys use. And it was turning veeeery slowly.” She moved her head in slow circles, obviously following the turning of the coffee pot in her mind’s eye.

  “And that was it?”

  “It was profound.”

  “Uh…okay. Tell me about another one.”

  “She was there”—she pointed to her roommate, an elderly woman with a breathing tube coming from her mouth—“slicing up these huge wheels of cheese. The staff was all there; everyone was eating cheese.”

  “And that was the whole play?”

  “It was delicious,” she nodded.

  Terry understood the symbolism of the first dream, or vision, or whatever it had been. But the plays baffled him. He wrinkled his brow and patted her hand again. “Madeline, dear, what did those plays mean to you?”

  For the first time, she looked him directly in the eye, and he saw within her a keen intelligence that had been hidden only moments earlier. She smiled as if to pity his blindness. “Well, I think it’s obvious.”

  “I’m thick, apparently,” he said, wincing in an exaggerated way. “Tell me what you think it means.”

  “It’s about the most important things in life.”

  “Which are?” Terry held his breath.

 
“Cowboy coffee and cheese,” she said with a confident smile. “Wisconsin cheese, of course.”

  “Of course,” Terry agreed.

  30

  SUSAN KNOCKED ON THE DOOR. A moment later, she knocked louder.

  “Oooh, you are mad,” Kat said under her breath. She listened closely and soon heard sounds coming from the house. A minute later, the door opened a crack.

  “What do you want?” a man’s voice said curtly.

  “That depends,” Susan said, jutting out one hip and holding up the court papers. “Who am I speaking to? The fucking demon or the asshole who sent us these?”

  The man’s eyes grew wide, and Kat could almost hear him gulp. Go, Susan, she thought.

  “I am…I did. I…sent the papers,” the man almost stuttered.

  “So, you’re Doug Fairfax?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you think to ask why the friars weren’t able to deliver you of your…visitor?”

  “Um…no. I just assumed—”

  “What? You assumed what, asshole?” Susan struck the screen door with her fist.

  The man jumped. “Uh…that they were…fraudulent. Using me. I don’t know. Making fun of me.” He opened the door wider and leaned against the doorpost. He did not move to open the screen. “You know, they didn’t act like monks.”

  “They’re not monks,” Susan and Kat said together, “they’re friars.” Kat could see Susan trying not to laugh. She struggled to pull a straight face herself.

  Susan continued, “The reason they failed in your exorcism is because their bishop was killed in a motorcycle accident—while they were with you. They’re Catholics—no bishop; no mojo. They did not intentionally mislead you or try to trick you. They did their best, and they couldn’t do it because their machine is broken. Do you understand?”

  “Machine?”

  “It’s a metaphor, jerk.”

  Doug winced. “You don’t have to be so nasty.”

  Susan held the papers up again. “That. Makes. Two of us.” She slapped the papers against the screen.

  Doug recoiled slightly and looked chagrined. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened to your friend.”

  “Is he still in there?” Susan asked.

  “Who?”

  “The demon.” Susan put both hands on her hips. “Are you even paying attention?”

  “Oh yeah. He is.”

  “How does he manifest himself?”

  “Uh…”

  “Do you think it could possibly be something we haven’t seen before?”

  “Sex addiction. Whenever I get into a…situation, I black out, and he…takes over. I’ve hurt people—he’s hurt people, I mean. I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do those people, I’m sure,” Susan said. “Do you still want to get rid of it?”

  “Yes, of course!”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Susan said. “We make the demon go away, and you make this go away.” She held up the court papers again.

  “Yes, okay,” Doug said immediately.

  “Where do you want to do this?” Susan asked.

  “Uh…I guess we could go back to the motel.”

  “Not necessary. We just need privacy for about five minutes.”

  Kat looked at Susan warily. “What?”

  “None of my roommates are home now,” Doug said. “Come on in, then.” He unlocked the screen door.

  Susan followed Doug into the house, and Kat followed. Inside, the living room was bright from a large picture window. The furniture was cheap IKEA stuff, but the rooms were fully appointed. Not artsy, Kat mused, but not granola, either. She’d feel comfortable living here.

  “Please, have a seat,” Doug said.

  “I’ll stand,” Susan said. She dropped Dylan’s kit bag on the floor. “You sit.”

  Doug obeyed. “Wait—how come you can do this when the…er, the friars…couldn’t?”

  “Short answer: I’m a Lutheran. Are you ready?”

  Doug looked around uncertainly. “Five minutes? Really?”

  Susan placed her hand on the man’s head and said, “Peace on you, my brother, from God our Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ.” Then she stood back. “Hey, demon!” Susan shouted. “Hey, asshole! Let me tell you who we are: We are the ones who believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of Heaven and Earth, of all that is, seen and unseen. We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God.”

  In a clear, loud voice, Susan rattled off what Kat recognized as one of the creeds. As she spoke, Doug looked back and forth between Susan and Kat, unsure of what to make of them. His eyes rested on Kat, and his face looked almost pleading. Kat waved at him and offered a weak smile.

  Finishing the creed, Susan said, “Pray with me, Kat. Our Father, who art in Heaven…”

  This one Kat knew all of the words to, and she joined in enthusiastically. Even Doug started to move his lips, although Kat couldn’t hear his words. When they had finished, Susan placed both hands on Doug’s head and prayed, “O God, through Jesus you told us that whatever we ask of you in his name, you will do. You have commanded us and encouraged us to pray in his name, saying ‘Ask and you shall receive.’ You also told us, ‘Call on me in your time of trouble, and I will deliver you and you will give me glory.’ So, that’s what I’m doing. I’m a fuckup and a sinner—but I’m your sinner.”

  With her psychic eye, Kat could see energy rising around Susan. Her voice got louder and, keeping one hand on Doug’s head, she held the other up to Heaven. “I’m relying on these promises of yours, I’m obeying your commands, and I’m praying for your mercy with as much trust as I can pull together right now. I ask you to be kind to this man, to free him of the evil that plagues him, to break the hold that this demon has over him. I ask this in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, One God, world without end. Amen.”

  With that, Susan dropped her hands and opened her eyes. Doug looked around, waiting for something to happen.

  “That’s it,” Susan said. “See you tomorrow.” She picked up Dylan’s kit bag and headed for the door.

  “What?” Doug asked. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it until tomorrow,” Susan said. She turned and looked at Kat, “Are you coming?”

  Kat’s mouth had dropped open in disbelief, but she quickly closed it and scampered after Susan. Doug rose and followed them. “Is this a trick?” he asked.

  “Did I ask you for any money?” Susan turned to face him, just shy of the door.

  “Uh…no,” Doug said.

  “Did I do some kind of hocus-pocus?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Where’s the trick?” she asked.

  “But…you didn’t do anything,” Doug said.

  “Bullshit. I prayed for you, you ungrateful prick.”

  “But nothing happened,” Doug complained.

  “Are you always so impatient?” Susan asked. “Because if you are, you’d be a bitch to live with.”

  “Be patient,” Doug said, almost as an affirmation.

  “Be patient. And chuck the porn, pronto—you obviously can’t handle it,” Susan said. “We’ll be back tomorrow. I’m going to do exactly the same thing. And the day after that. And, if necessary, the day after that.”

  “But when will you drive out the demon?” Doug asked, looking hopeless. Kat’s heart went out to him, and she wished Susan would temper her responses to him. She reached out and touched Susan’s arm, willing her to be kinder.

  She must have received the message because Susan did seem to soften. “Look, I won’t ever drive out the demon,” she said in a more patient tone. “I don’t have the power. God will drive it out, but it will take some time.”

  “Okay, so when will God do that?”

  “Basically, when he gets tired of hearing about it from me. I plan to pester him until he delivers you.”

&
nbsp; “Will that work?”

  Kat saw Susan smile. “Yes, strange as it seems. Pretty much every time.” She put out her hand and touched Doug’s shoulder. “Those who trust in God lay hands on the sick, and they recover. I said I’ll be praying for you, but actually I’ll be bugging God every hour on the hour. Kat will, too. And we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The man just stared at them as they descended the steps to the street.

  31

  RICHARD BLINKED in the harsh light of the fluorescents as they flickered on. To his great annoyance, one continued to flicker. Mother Maggie had just waved them into a meeting room at the All Saints’ parish, and Dylan, Terry, and Mikael filed in dutifully. Richard found a seat and watched Maggie with concern. Her hands were rubbed red and raw, a sure sign she was distressed. As soon as everyone was seated, a large man about Richard’s own age appeared in the doorway, clutching a laptop to his chest with one hand and holding a projector in the other.

  “Friars, this is Davy Shannon, the diocesan communications officer. Davy, I’d like you to meet my friends, and the nicest exorcists you’re ever likely to meet.” Quickly, introductions were made, and Davy hastened to set up his equipment.

  “Are you really exorcists?” he asked. “I mean, is that real?” He plugged the projector into a port on his laptop.

  “The real deal,” Terry said with a tinge of pride. “And we have the paid invoices from the Episcopal Diocese of California going back seven years to prove it.”

  The man’s eyebrows jumped. “That’s not common knowledge, is it?” He looked at Maggie.

  “No, dear,” she said, “but it’s not a secret, either.”

  “It’s just something that most people don’t want to think about,” Richard said.

  “Where’s Kat?” Dylan asked, mostly in Mikael’s direction.

  “Beats me,” Mikael said. “I just got off work.”

  “She’s with Susan,” Terry said. “Brian said he overheard something about a lawsuit.”

  “That can’t be good,” Richard said. “Well, we’ll just have to fill her in. Why didn’t you bring Charlie?”