It had not taken long for Max to discover that Jen’s father, Paul Eatun, had been the victim of a curse. The hex has been placed upon him by an old business partner. The man had been jealous of how successful Mr. Eatun’s life had turned out compared to his own and had used dark magic to afflict him. The spirit that had been plaguing Paul had been a minor (if nasty) demon and Max had banished it with little effort. After the exorcism, Max’s full plan had come to fruition. Now, one exorcism and 19 months later, Jen and he were engaged and set to be married next October.
In his head, Max recalled the words Laz said when he’d broken the news about the engagement.
Well, damn. I don’t know if you are a genius or just whipped as hell, but you didn’t do bad at all, Max ole boy! Ya es hora de que tomes una decisión sabia por una vez en tu vida! I am happy for you, amigo!
After saying all that, Max had asked the priest to preside over the ceremony. Laz had agreed.
“What is that devilish smile on your face all about?” Jen asked.
“Oh, nothing just random thoughts,” Max said.
Max smiled as he pushed the reverie to the back of his mind and took another bite of his salmon.
Jen shook her head.
“Uh huh. I know that smile of yours, Maxwell MacAulay, and anytime I see that smile, I know you are up to something.”
Max’s only response was to take another drink of beer.
The couple ate for a brief time in quietness. Max had heard that the sign of how well a couple loved each other was not only how well they could talk to each other but also how comfortable they were being in silence with each other.
Max had found that to be true. He could be around Jen and often knew what she was thinking without her saying it and vice versa. What’s more, Jen had seen Max not only at as his best but at his worst. Living with MS is to live with a high degree of uncertainty, not just for the person who had a condition but for their loved ones and caregivers as well. Max knew that he could prepare against the disease as much as he wanted via eating healthy, regularly exercising his mind and body, and knowing his limits, but at the end of the day, no one knew what caused MS and why.
An exacerbation could happen at any time. Jen had seen Max during one of his exacerbations. She had seen the strong man she first meet become so physically weak that it was all he could do to crawl out of bed. She had seen him break out in sweats and vomit from vertigo bouts that lasted for hours. She had seen him slur his words similar to how a stroke victim might talk. Yet through all of that, she had stuck by him. That made him love her in a way he never saw himself loving anyone.
Max had read in an article about MS and marriage. In the article, it had stated that people who suffer from MS and were married had a lower divorce rate than the general public. The article claimed that the divorce rate for MS afflicted men married to a healthy partner was in the single-digit range. Max found that number surprising
Any woman that got involved with him was taking on all of his disease-related burdens and uncertainties. It was a lot to ask. The last thing Max wanted was to be a burden. In fact, it was the reason Max had been hesitant to propose to Jen in the first place. Even after she had accepted, he had questioned her to make sure that she understood what she was getting into and still wanted to go through with it. The questioning had earned him a swift and blistering chastisement from about how no one was perfect and everyone had problems. After the scolding had come a passionate round of lovemaking. The episode cemented what Max already knew: Jen was The One. Laz had been correct in his statement about Jen being one of the better decisions he had made in his life. Her fiery Aries nature made her even more appealing.
“So tell me about what you are working on now?” Jen asked. She popped the last bit of garlic cornbread into her mouth.
“It is a case Laz brought me in on,” Max said.
He leaned back in his chair and scratched his beard as he thought about the Chalmers.
Jen noted the look of consternation Max was trying to hide.
“I can tell this case has gotten to you? Tell me about it, babe?”
Max’s heart melted as he saw the look of concern on Jen’s face. She was worried about him.
At that time their waitress came over. She was a brunette with tan skin, long hair, and blue eyes. She had a curvy figure and the tight black uniform she wore was designed to showcase every curve and angle. The waitress asked if everything was okay. Max downed the last of his Bells and requested another.
“Of course,” the waitress said. “We wouldn’t want you to die of thirst.”
She smiled as she took Max’s glass.
Max notice Jen roll her eyes.
“I see that you are almost empty, would you like more as well?” The waitress asked Jen.
“Yes. More of the viognier, please.”
“Of course.” The waitress said. Then she flashed Max another smile as she left to refill their drinks.
Max laughed as he reached over and took Jen’s hand. Despite the faux anger on her face she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“It could nothing, babe. It’s just this case…well, it involves this kid…”
“Uh oh!” Jen said. She knew how Max felt about cases where minors were involved. “How is the child?”
“He’s not a toddler, but he is young. He’s eleven years old. His name is Matthew, but everyone calls him Mattie.”
“Is it bad?” Jen asked.
Max sighed and then went into detail about the case and what had happened today. There was a brief pause as the server came back. Both Max and Jen thanked her. After she left, Max continued telling Jen about his visit to the Chalmers.
“Well, this guy Greg definitely seems like a prime A-hole,” Jen said. “I am proud of you for controlling yourself enough to hold your temper in check and help the child.”
Max knew that while she wasn’t overly matronly, children were important to Jen as well. It was the one area of their relationship that there was disagreement on. Jen wanted to have at least one child. Max didn’t want any. It wasn’t out of fear of responsibility that he didn’t want to have a kid. He was more afraid of passing along an MS gene. There was no proof that MS was hereditary (no one in his family had MS that he was aware of), but so little was known about the causes of the condition he didn’t want to take the chance.
“Yeah, dude is like a 10.0 on the douchebag Richter, but that is not what concerns me the most?”
“Well, what does bother you the most?”
Jen took a sip of wine,
“What bothers me the most is the fact that I did a thorough search of the house and I detected nothing paranormal at all. I don’t mean nothing as in a faint lingering trace or low ambient level of paranormal phenomena, I mean nothing as in zilch-zero-NADA.”
Max took a gulp of beer and wiped his mouth before continuing.
“And not to toot my own horn, but you know I am damn good at my job. I searched that house thoroughly and still found no trace of ghosts or demons or anything else.”
“So you think they are lying to you?”
Max shook his head.
“No. I think something is going on in that house—something extraordinary. I just can’t for the life of me figure out what.”
Jen rubbed Max’s hand.
“Well, honey, I know you are good at your job, but even experts need help sometimes.”
“What do you mean?” Max asked. “I got Laz. He agrees that there are signs similar to a classic possession, but that does not change the fact that I detected no demon.”
Max took another drink.
“I mean, I told Laz I need a little time on this one before I go back. I said that because I need to figure out my next move.”
“Well, Laz is not the only person you know. I am sure there are other people you could turn to for help too.”
Max scratched his beard as he pondered the options.
“What about that girl I m
et (your professor friend)? You know, the one at that housewarming party we went to a few months ago?”
“Professor friend?”
Max took a drink of beer. His face squinted as he tried to recall who she was talking about. There were several friends of his that held the title of professor.
Jen sighed in exasperation.
“You know the girl who is a rabbi. She was at the gathering where I also meet another friend of yours who was also a professor. His name was Dr. Xiao. He and his wife own this institute for kids or something. Your friend was talking to him about why children are more open to seeing spirits. He was debating her about whether that was actually true or not.”
“Oh! Sam!” Max said. “You mean SAMANTHA Levy!”
It was a statement not a question. Max knew exactly who Jen was referring to.
Yes, your friend Samantha. She seemed very knowledgeable. She might be able to help you.”
Shit! She is right! thought Max.
Samantha (or Sam) as she liked to be called, loved to entertain. She and her wife Ghada had invited them to a housewarming brunch at the new home they had purchased a few months ago. Sam was trained in parapsychology in addition to being a Reconstructionist Rabbi.
If anybody could help me out, she could.
Max’s face broke into a smile as he looked at Jen.
“You know, sometimes I think I am engaged to a genius. Hot damn! I think you might even be as smart as me!”
Jen’s lips twisted into a smile. Max noticed she bite her lower lip the way she always did when her feisty sense of humor was kicking in.
“Well, I would say if you don’t know by now that you ARE in fact engaged to a genius then I am WAY smarter than you are, buddy.”
Max leaned forward
“You know what Jennifer Eatun soon to be MacAuley?”
“What?”
“I think I might just be madly in love with you,” Max said.
Jen smiled.
“Well, you know what Maxwell MacAuley?”
Now it was Max’s turn to ask, “What?”
“I think I just might love you more and so do you know what that means?”
Max took a drink of his beer.
“Well, let’s see…Does it mean that I am the luckiest man on this earth?”
“Bingo!” Jen said. “You got one right for the evening.”
“Oh! And it shows that you have incredibly good taste in something besides food.”
Jen gave Max an evil look. They stared at each other for a few seconds then burst into laughter.
Sabrina Salerno’s “Boys (Summer Time Love)” played through the restaurant’s speakers.
“Oh! I love this song!” Jen said.
“Yeah, well I love this video,” Max answered.
The rest of the evening’s conversations entailed more conventional topics such as how Jen’s workday had been going, Max’s health and exercise routines and the happenings of various relatives on both sides. The coupled ordered another round. They finished the evening relishing such mundane wonders as good food, good music, and good drinks while basking in each other’s company. It wasn’t a bad way to end the night.
Part VI
Of Monsters and Men
The next day Max and Laz talked about turned out to be over two days later. Max’s research had taken longer than expected. Laz had been impatient to return, but Max insisted on being thorough in his investigation.
“Entonces, ¿qué pasa Max? ¿Que esta pasando?” Las asked. “Pray tell what was so important we had to wait to help these people?”
The time was about 11:00 am on a Sunday. The two friends were in Max’s Fiero. The rain had continued through to the weekend and was coming down now in full storm mode. Max’s windshield wipers were working double time. The road was barely visible as they made their way up the hill to the Chalmer’s house. Rumors by Timex Social Club was playing on the radio. The volume was low enough the two friends could hear each other speak.
“I told you I had to look into some things,” Max said. “I did some investigation on the matter at hand and I had some questions for a friend of mine. You know Sam?”
“Sam?” Laz asked.
The priest squinted as he tried to place a face with the name.
“Samuela Levy. Dr. Samuela Levy,” Max said.
“Oh! You mean Samuela Levy the Rabbi? Presides over that Temple in Asheville, right?”
Max gave a thumbs up.
“That’s the one.”
Sam was a friend of Max’s. They had met during his undergraduate years in college. Their mutual interest in the occult had bonded them together. The two had remained friends throughout the years. Sam occasionally helped Max do research on cases. In addition to being a psychologist, Sam was the Rabbi of a small temple in the nearby city of Asheville. The temple belonged to a branch of the Jewish faith called Reconstructionist Judaism. The fact Sam was a female Rabbi was odd enough. The fact that Sam was gay and married to a non-Jewish girl of Arabian descent named Ghada made some a true oddity. Her ideals made her a pariah on so many levels with a number of different groups, but one thing Sam never cared about was other people’s opinions, especially people she considered closed-minded. It was one of the biggest traits Max admired about her. Laz and Sam had met a few years ago at a religious conference for progressive churches and while they were not close like she and Max, the two clerics had kept a pleasant if infrequent association.
Max slowed down as the neared the Chalmer’s.
“So what did you find out?” Laz asked.
“I have a hunch about we’re dealing with, but I need some confirmation.”
Since they had only taken one car there was room to park in the driveway. Max went past the house. Then popped the gear into reverse and backed into the driveway with the precision of a Nascar driver pulling into the pit.
Laz held his hands out in exasperation.
“So, care to fill me (you know your best friend and partner) in on what we’re facing?”
Laz turned the volume down on the radio even further though the song could still be heard playing. The rain pounded the car making the world outside a dim blur.
Max looked over at Laz and gave a crooked smile.
“Like I said, I need to confirm some things. Just roll with me on this one.”
Before Laz could respond, Max switched off the ignition and climbed out the car. Laz followed suit, albeit with a look of consternation.
They rushed through the torrent towards the awning of the front porch. Both dodged standing pools of water where the concrete on the driveway had eroded in spots. Once under the awning, they could hear raised voices. A woman’s voice was raised in concern and what seemed vexation. A raised male’s voice responded in anger with a barrage of curses that would have made Davy Jones blush. The woman’s voice was Lindsey’s and there was little doubt as to who the male’s voice belonged to: Greg.
Max and Laz looked at each other with a “what the hell are walking into?” expression. The Chalmers had been aware since yesterday they were coming. Max had spoken to Lindsey directly. Whatever internal dispute was going on, Max was eager to get the job over with. There was no use in delaying the inevitable. He looked at Laz then pressed the doorbell. It chimed twice.
The voices on the other side went silent. Max heard a sound like stomping feet. This was confirmed by the door bursting open with more force than was necessary. Greg, eyes shining like blue coals, stood in the doorway. It being a Sunday he had ditched his blue work shirt for a white t-shirt with the words “Made In America” in bright red letters on the front. His signature red cap was present, though.
“Well, if it ain’t the Scooby Doo crew,” Greg said. “Come to hunt some ghost for us.”
Even through the screen door, Max could smell liquor on the man’s breath. It smelled like Vodka (a cheap brand).
“Except you ain’t found nothing yet,” Greg continued. “You ain’t doing nothing but milk some hardworking
tax-paying people out of their hard-earned money. Well, it ends today. If you don’t get some results today, guess what? YOU”RE FIRED!”
Max felt a wave of fire surge through his gut and chest. He clenched his fists. It took all of his will to keep from opening the screen door and knocking the shit out of the paunch bellied, red-cap wearing, ass hole standing in front of him.
Laz, sensing his friend’s frustration, placed his hand on Max’s shoulder.
“Mr. Chalmers, it sounds like you are frustrated and that is understandable given the situation. We are doing all we can to help. You have my promise that we will do everything we can to stop this so that your lives can get back to normal.”
“You’re damn right, I’m frustrated,” Greg said. The statement was followed by a belch.
Max noticed the reflective language Laz used seemed to have some effect. The flames in Greg’s eyes simmered down somewhat.
“Well, we need to see some results today or I’m draining the swamp of this situation here. I ain’t made out of the money you know. We work for what we got, work hard. I can’t keep forking over my hard-earned dollars for something that ain’t getting results. That ain’t good business.”
Max clenched his jaw so hard a vein in the left side of his forehead popped out. He blinked as he tried to keep his rage in check.
“I hear what you are saying,” Laz said. “Like I said, it sounds like this ordeal has put a strain on everyone. If you will let us come in, we will get to work as soon as possible to try and get this over with for you and your family.”
Max felt Laz’s hands tighten on his shoulder. Laz was one person Max respected more than anyone else he knew. He understood his friend’s priestly training and why he was using reflective language to diffuse the situation. Max’s logical mind admired his companion’s emotional fortitude and the strategic value it provided, but Max’s heart wanted nothing more than to tell Greg what a pompous idiotic windbag he was and HOPE the S.O.B. dared to make a move on him. Max wanted nothing more than to cold clock him one good time and knock his paunchy ass out faster than Tyson did Sphinx.
Invitation To Evil: A Max MacAulay Novel Page 7
