Far and Away

by Fern Michaels

  Toots went to the bathroom and returned with a glass of water. “Drink this.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed while Ida drank the water. She was tired of playing nursemaid and wished Sophie would call her with some news. She removed the towel and walked across the room and took a hairbrush from her antique vanity. Running the brush through her wet hair, Toots waited for Ida to finish her water. If she knew she’d been drugged, Ida would have a shit fit. And if she knew Frankie had pissed on the bed while she was sleeping, she’d have another shit fit. Luckily for Ida, Toots had mopped up the urine before it had a chance to soak through the heavy fabric. Frankie was not getting a treat tonight. Toots smiled at the thought.

  “Why are you laughing?” Ida inquired in her best know-it-all-voice, the same one she had as a twelve-year-old when the four friends had first met.

  “I’m not laughing. I’m smiling. There’s a difference,” Toots singsonged in her best smart-ass voice.

  Toots saw Ida roll her eyes. That was a good sign.

  “Of course there is. Now, tell me why I am still here in your bed? Daniel must be worried sick. He likes knowing where I am. He’s crazy about me, you know,” Ida added.

  “All men are crazy about a woman when she puts out on the first date. I thought if anyone knew that, you would.” Toots delighted in teasing Ida.

  She was doing all that she could to keep Ida from whacking out. So far, so good. Ida was taking the bait and running with it.

  “You’re a fucking pig.”

  Stunned, Toots dropped the hairbrush. “What did you just say?”

  “You heard me,” Ida said, her voice rising several octaves higher than normal. “You’re a fucking crippled pig.”

  Toots placed her hand across her pulsing heart. This was what Sophie had warned her about. Any change in behavior. While Ida was a conceited bitch, she rarely used foul language. Unsure what to do, Toots remained rooted to the floor.

  Suddenly, Ida stood up on the bed, her hands splayed at her sides, her mouth turned downward. Her eyes glowed, as if a flame had been lit behind them. “Did you hear me, you pig? Answer me when I’m talking to you! You fucking bitch!”

  Shit shit shit! Toots needed Sophie, and she needed her now! She scanned the room for her cell phone, then remembered she’d taken it into the bathroom when she’d showered. Racing into the bathroom as though her life depended on it, she found her phone next to the sink. With trembling hands, she punched in Sophie’s cell number. One ring. Two. “Come on, Soph. Pick up the phone.” Toots peeked out the door. Ida remained standing in the center of the bed, her hands rigid, her eyes glazed over. Whoever this was, it was not Ida.

  “Hello.”

  Thank God. Finally. “Sophie, you need to get to the house as fast as you can. Ida is acting like that girl in The Exorcist. I don’t know what to do!”

  “What is she doing?” Sophie asked.

  “Acting like a nut. She’s standing in the middle of the bed. Her arms are stiff, and her eyes look like someone else’s. I’m actually afraid of her. I’m in the bathroom now.”

  “Calm down. We’re pulling through the gates now. Just stay in the bathroom until I get there, okay?”

  The only time Toots recalled being this frightened was when Abby had been kidnapped by that bastard who had owned the Informer. “Hurry!” she said, then punched the END button.

  Peering out the door, she continued to monitor the thing that had taken over Ida’s body. Her hands shook, and she made fists to still them. Knowing the woman Ida was and seeing this evil creature, or whatever, inhabit her body, angered Toots. Why not possess someone else? Like her? Or Sophie. Ida wasn’t as tough as they were. She was feminine and prissy and . . . she didn’t deserve this. It was a cruel joke.

  Toots heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Sophie pushed open the bedroom door and stopped when she saw Ida standing like a statue in the middle of the bed.

  “What the hell?” Sophie shouted.

  Toots came out of the bathroom. “This isn’t Ida. She called me a pig and a fucking cripple! What is wrong with her, Sophie? Can you do something? Please, help her!” Toots was almost in hysterics. She’d seen a lot of unnatural happenings in her lifetime, but this ranked at the very top of the list.

  “Calm down, Toots. Listen to me. I need your help, okay? Can you help me?”

  Toots nodded.

  “Okay. Goebel went to the house to get some things I need. I want you to go downstairs and wait for him. As soon as he arrives, bring me the things I need. Can you do that?”

  Again, Toots nodded. “I’m scared, Soph,” she whispered. “Really scared. This shouldn’t be happening to Ida.”

  Sophie shook her head. “And you should be. I am, too, but I’m going to take care of Ida. Now go downstairs and wait for Goebel.”

  Without another word, Toots raced out of the room and out the back door. She stopped when she realized she was outside in nothing but her robe. Totally nude beneath it, she closed the robe tighter, then stepped back inside. With hands shaking, she found her cigarettes lying on the counter. She shook one out of the package and lit up. Screw smoking outside. She stood by the door and blew the smoke through the screen door. “Come on, Goebel. Where the hell are you?”

  She heard Sophie shouting upstairs. Taking another long drag off the cigarette, she was ready to go back upstairs when she saw headlights. Goebel parked the car, and quickly made his way to the house.

  He shoved the screen door aside. “Good Lord, Toots, are you all right?”

  “No. Give me the stuff. Sophie needs it now.”

  “Calm down, Toots. You’re as white as a sheet.”

  “Give it to me, there isn’t time. Come on.” Toots yanked the small bag out of Goebel’s hands. “Sophie needs us now!”

  Without another word, they ran upstairs with the supplies Sophie required. Inside the room, Ida continued to stand in the center of the bed, her face ravaged, her eyes bulging from their sockets. “Good Lord, what is wrong with her?” Goebel asked.

  “She’s possessed. Now give me the bag.” Sophie slowly walked to the edge of the bed with her hands out in front of her as though they alone could protect her from the evil that flowed from Ida’s body.

  “You bitch, get out of here!”

  “No, I am not going anywhere, you son of a bitch!”

  Toots listened in shock. Wasn’t Sophie supposed to pray or toss holy water on her or something?

  “I hate you! You ruined me, do you hear me? You ruined me!” The voice coming from Ida was not Ida’s voice but the voice of something dark and wicked.

  Sophie removed a small wooden cross and placed the bag on the side of the bed. She held the cross out in front of her but didn’t speak. The thing that was Ida saw this and laughed. “That doesn’t frighten me!” She kicked the bag, sending it flying across the room, where it landed on the floor next to the dresser.

  With a sudden surge of bravery, Toots ran to the bed and knocked Ida, aka the Thing, down. She landed on the floor, and when she did, Toots sat on her. She grabbed Ida’s hands, pulling them above her hand. Toots used her knees to keep Ida’s hands in place. “Okay, Sophie, do your thing. I’ve got her down now!”

  “Goebel, hand me the book, the journal. It’s there in the bag! Hurry!” Sophie shouted.

  From his position in the doorway, he sprinted across the room like a panther. Locating the bag, he removed the book and gave it to his wife. “Sophie, be careful.”

  She nodded. “Stay on top of her, Toots. She’s full of fire.” She flipped through the old journal Madam Butterfly had given her. Never in a million years had she thought she would ever use this, but she always said, “never say never,” and now she was grateful she’d taken the book out of the safe and tucked it away with her special tools. She’d had a gut feeling she might have to use them.

  “Tell the devil to leave her,” Toots shouted, as Ida, aka the Thing, surged with energy. It was all Toots could do to maintain her position on top of I
da’s body.

  “This isn’t the devil we’re dealing with, Tootsie. This is one mean old son of a bitch, and he’s just met his match!” Sophie squatted beside Ida and slapped her, it, across the face.

  “Sophie!” Toots shouted. “Don’t hurt her!”

  “Be quiet!”

  Suddenly, Ida went completely limp. Her expression changed from horrified to mystified. Toots quickly moved away from Ida, allowing Sophie to inspect her. “Ida?” she said in a calm voice. She gently patted her cheek. “Ida, come on, wake up. Toots, get me a glass of water.”

  Toots almost smiled. Once, a long time ago, when Ida was suffering with her OCD, Sophie had taken a glass of water and tossed it in Ida’s face. And now she was doing it again. It wasn’t really funny, but Toots started laughing. She tried to stop, biting the sides of her mouth and pursing her lips, but laughter tumbled out of her like a bubbling brook. Tears fell from her eyes. She could hardly see. Searching for her mouthwash cup and not finding it, she removed the cap from the mouthwash bottle and filled it with water. Still laughing, Toots stepped out of the bathroom, careful not to spill the water. “Here,” she said between hiccups.

  “Now’s not the time, Tootsie,” Sophie said between clenched teeth. She held her hand out for the water. Cupping the back of Ida’s head in one hand, she lifted her just enough so that she could sip the water. “Ida?” she cooed. “Are you okay?”

  Ida opened her eyes. Glazed, glassy as though she’d had way too much to drink. She shook her head from side to side.

  “You’re not okay?” Sophie continued asking in her nurse’s voice.

  “What is happening to me?” Ida croaked. “I feel strange, Sophia. I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Oh shit! I’ll be right back.” Goebel raced out of the room. Less than a minute later he returned with a giant soup pot. His timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Sophie had just repositioned Ida with her back against the bed frame, her legs out in front of her. Goebel placed the pot in front of her. Ida upchucked, making all kinds of nasty noises. Again, Toots was overwhelmed with the sudden urge to laugh. She backed away so Sophie and Goebel wouldn’t see her. Toots tried to cram her fist in her mouth to quiet her laughter. More tears and the sounds of muted laughter. She couldn’t stop laughing. Backing into the bathroom, she grabbed a large washcloth and tried stuffing it in her mouth, but it did nothing but gag her. This made her laugh even more. Her shoulders shook and her vision blurred with tears, but she couldn’t stop. She wanted to stop, needed to, but try as she might, she continued to laugh hysterically. She turned the water on, cupped her hands beneath the flow, then took the water and tossed it in her face. Momentarily it took her breath away, but that only caused her to laugh even more. She sat down on the commode, head in her hands. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop laughing. The more she tried, the harder she laughed. She recalled a television commercial about something called pseudobulbar affect; they’d referred to it as PBA, a condition of either uncontrollable laughter or crying. Just the thought threw her into a major fit of hysterics.

  “Toots, are you all right in there?” Goebel asked as he stood outside the bathroom door.

  She forced herself to walk across the small expanse and open the door. She knew her face was as red as a ripe tomato, her eyes rained insane tears, but she managed to nod in the affirmative. She wiped her eyes with the washcloth she had tried gagging herself with a few minutes ago. The memory of that forced another bout of insane laughter. She leaned against the wall, her head hanging to her chest, but no matter what, she could not stop laughing. In fact, the more she tried to stop, the harder she laughed.

  Goebel stepped inside the bathroom and closed the door behind him. “Toots, you need to calm down, okay? Soph has Ida, our Ida, under control now. Just calm down, take a deep breath.”

  His words soothed her but she still found it difficult to stop laughing. She took a deep breath, then another, and was finally able to speak, though just in a whisper. “What’s wrong with me?” She hiccuped again, then burped. Before another round of hysterical giggles could start, Goebel placed his hand over her mouth. She had the sudden urge to bite him, then stopped when she realized she wasn’t acting normal at all. These thoughts had a much-needed sobering effect on her.

  “You gonna stop now?” Goebel asked.

  She nodded, and he took his hand away from her mouth. “You’re having an anxiety attack. You know this, right?”

  “I am?” She barely whispered the words.

  “Yes. Now just take a few deep breaths. In and out. Easy, now.” Goebel continued to calm her.

  Toots finally stopped laughing. She stood in front of the mirror, and the image staring back at her looked like a woman who’d been to hell and back. “I don’t know what came over me!” Suddenly, she had a terrible thought: What if she was possessed? Could Ida’s demon have left Ida’s body and taken root in hers?

  “Take a few minutes and relax. Sophie has Ida under control, at least for now. She wants to hold a séance as soon as possible. She told me to ask you to call Mavis and Wade, ask them if they can come over. Bernice and Robert, too. She wants to do this tonight before—” He stopped abruptly, needing to rephrase his words. “She wants to stop this now while she’s still able.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Toots asked.

  “Those were her exact words, Toots. I’m not sure if she meant them literally, but I would guess she did. You want me to call Wade and Mavis?”

  Shaken but in control again, Toots shook her head. “No, I’ll call them. It’s late, so it might take them a while to get here.”

  “They’re both at Wade and Robert’s place—there was a note on the dining-room table. Said Bernice was too tired to go to her condo.”

  “Good, then I’ll just walk over there and tell them. Maybe I can prepare them for . . .” Toots stopped. “Robert won’t participate in a séance. Sophie knows that.”

  “I’m just the messenger here. Tell them they’re needed, then let Sophie take it from there. I know she wouldn’t ask this if it weren’t something that was necessary.”

  Toots nodded. “You’re right. Give me a minute.” She splashed water on her face, though this time she didn’t see anything remotely funny. She ran a comb through her wet hair. In the closet, she dressed in an old gray sweat suit that had belonged to her first husband. She never wore it unless she was feeling extremely sad. Tonight, she was both very sad and frightened almost to death. The soft cotton comforted her. She closed her eyes, trying to bring up an image of John. Sadly, he was just a faded image, and his scent no longer permeated the old sweats. None of that mattered now. It was comforting to know her heart beat against the same fabric that had once covered John’s beating heart. Those were the days, she thought, as she stepped out of the bathroom into her bedroom.

  Ida was now on the bed with Sophie seated next to her.

  “Feel better?” Sophie asked Toots.

  “Sort of. I’m not sure what just happened to me, but I’m fine.” She directed her gaze at Ida. “Is she going to be okay? Is she still . . . possessed?”

  Sophie ran her hand along the length of Ida’s arm, then patted her hand. “I can’t answer that yet. I need to go to the other side. You’ll get the others?” Sophie asked in a soft voice. “Ida won’t be able to participate this time.”

  “No shit,” Toots said, for lack of anything better. “I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as she stepped out of the room into the darkened hallway, Toots forced herself to calm down and relax as much as one could under the circumstances. This night would go down in the record books, at least in hers. Just thinking about it gave her the chills.

  Downstairs, she grabbed a cigarette, lighting up the second she stepped out into the warm night air. The sky was a bluish black, the full moon illuminating the path through the trees and guiding the nocturnal creatures to their midnight feasting. Crickets chirped, frogs croaked, and the call of a whip-poor-will sang in the distance.
Barefoot, Toots raced across the lawn, the wet grass clinging to her feet. Stopping when she reached the shrubbery that separated her property from Wade and Robert’s, she knew the exact spot where she could slip through the greenery without a scrape. As soon as she slid through the narrow gap in the shrubbery, she raced to the back door and up the small flight of steps. She pounded on the door, not caring if she startled them awake. She pounded on the door again and was relieved when she heard Robert’s almost cheerful words. “Be right there.”

  How the hell could he be so frigging nice? She didn’t know, but he was, and right now, she was grateful. He wore a maroon robe and his gray hair, what was left of it, stood straight up on his head, reminding her of the great and powerful Oz. She smiled. “Robert, Ida needs you and Bernice, and Mavis and Wade, to come over. There’s a problem, and Sophie needs all of us to help her. Can you get Mavis and Wade up?”

  She heard Bernice pitter-patter to the door. “What in the name of Pete are you doing here this time of night? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

  “Ida is in big-time trouble. Sophie needs us now. Just come over as soon as you can, and I’ll explain everything later. Tell me you can do this, as in right now?” Toots wasn’t wasting time. She needed to see this through, for Ida’s sake and for her own sanity. That laughing episode had truly frightened her, maybe even more than Ida’s possession.

  “Oh, all right. Give us a few minutes to get dressed, and we’ll be there,” Bernice said. “I’ll wake Mavis and Wade. They were late getting home tonight.”

  If the matter weren’t so serious, Toots would have teased Bernice about being in Robert’s bed, but now wasn’t the time. She mentally tucked the thought away for later. “Tell them to hurry, okay?”

  “We’ll be right over, Toots. Relax,” Robert said before turning away from the door and heading to the back of the house, where his bedroom was located.

  “Go on, we’re coming,” Bernice said. “I swear.”

  Toots decided she didn’t have any choice, she had to take them at their word and hope for the best. “Hurry,” she called out one last time before turning away. This was not the time for any of them to be thinking of themselves. Time was not on their side.