I glanced into the kitchen then back at Harry in the living room. “Harry, did you recently put Wolf in the alcove?”
He gazed at me, and it seemed that the light in his brown eyes dulled. “Nope, I haven’t seen him all day.” A newspaper was open in front of him. He’d been working on a crossword puzzle.
My throat made a dry click when I swallowed. “Well, if you didn’t, and I didn’t, who did?”
“Who do you think?” Harry again bent toward his newspaper.
Now a vision of Wolfs uncanny escape skittered through my mind. The lid of his wooden crate creaked open. Enlivened, Wolf threw his spindly leg over the edge of the crate and clamped his stiff hands down on its sides. Upward he pushed himself, climbed out, and waited, facing the inside of the locked storage cabinet. Magically the padlock broke open, lifted up from its hasp, and dropped to the concrete floor of the garage with a merry clink.
I scraped up a bit of excelsior from the carpet, imagining it flaking off Wolfs dark blue sailor suit as he shuffled across the dim garage and climbed up the metal stairs of the fire escape. His wooden feet clunking step by step, rise after rise, he made his way around Mad Dog’s huge turds. Padlocks, heavy metal doors, not even deadbolts could keep Wolf from returning to finish off Harry.
The image fading, I realized how incorrect my thoughts about telekinesis had been. Wolf might have become animated, but the process has nothing to do with me. The power that moves Wolf is inexplicable, but when runs down, needs to be recharged. That’s the reason Harry now appears wiped out.
“Harry?” I shook the excelsior from my hand. “Has old lady Crumble called asking for help down in the storage area?”
He moved his head indicating she had not.
I allowed that Harry had gone down to the garage, released the manny, and forgotten that he had done it. But if I hadn’t told him that the manny was down there, he could not have known unless…unless he and Wolf were swapping thoughts, maybe even sharing the same brain.
“Well…she said she might.”
“Don’t tell me Crumble wants to rent the manny, too,” Harry said.
“She needs to store some things down in the garage. I told her you’d be glad to help.”
Nodding, Harry got to his feet, opened the sliders to the balcony, and drew in a lungful of fresh air. “It’s stuffy in here. For days, I’ve felt closed in.” He went into the bedroom and a minute later, I heard him draw back the shower curtain and turn on the faucet in the tub.
I stood in the cold draft, feeling awful that he was in the clutches of a horror I had unleashed. If Harry was possessed by a demon, then the demon had to be cast out of him, one way or another.
Spilling the Beans
When Harry switched off the eleven o’clock news, he suggested I turn down the bedcovers while he flossed and brushed. On his way out of the room, he did a jerky little dance, and in the gesture, I saw Wolf.
I locked the front door, switched off the living room lamps, and headed for the bedroom too. As I passed Wolf still in the alcove, his face in the shifting shadows appeared to leap in and out of goofy expressions that more mocked than imitated Harry’s facial features.
Having myself already washed and brushed, I kicked off my slippers and crawled into bed. Soon after, Harry fresh from the shower hopped in next to me and snuggled closer.
“I know what you’re up to,” I said as he started fondling me.
“Showing you what a real man’s made of.”
Harry’s overtures worried me. We had at times considered having a baby, but in light of our present situation, I had to be wary. My mate’s seed—should it more pollinate than inseminate—could generate curious offspring.
“It’s not PMS, is it?” Harry watched me roll my fingers into my gut.
“No, it’s…Have you ever heard of those lumpy growths women sometimes get. They’re ugly little things that can have patches of hair, half-formed eyes, even a couple of crooked teeth.”
“A tumor? Are you telling me you’ve found a tumor?”
“Not yet. But I could if I got pregnant, except I’d more likely have a wooden puppet than some other mutation.”
Harry looked at me a long while. “I’m not gonna ask what this is about. I’ve fallen into too many of your loony traps.”
“It’s about Wolf,” I said, anyway. “We think we’re flesh-and-blood people, and he’s just a dummy, but it’s not true. He’s actually a—” I paused and lowered my voice. “A puppet master, sort of, and it’s my doing because I didn’t know what I was doing, making a pact with the Devil.”
“Huh?”
“Wolf is a body snatcher. He’s taking your life, like absorbing it, kind of like you suspected. Oh sure, he’s nice to your face, but you don’t know what he does behind your back. So we have to get rid of the thing that’s got a grip on him just like Errol Flynn’s ghost had to be ejected from the yacht he haunted.”
Harry slid the strap of my nightgown off my shoulder.
“What are you doing at a time like this?”
“Looking for the Devil’s mark.” He touched a spot on my bare back and kissed it. “And here.” He planted another kiss. “And here, there, and everywhere,” he said, repeating the act before sliding his hand down the front of my panties.
“I know what you’re looking for.”
“Did I find it?” His brows arched in devilish peaks.
“Definitely.” Just as I flounced around to face him, a thump similar to a closing door sounded in the hall. I shushed Harry and started to rise.
“Ignore it,” he said, pulling me back. “It’s probably just Wolf, heading out for a night on the town.”
An Exorcism
The purpose of an exorcism is to restore the demonically afflicted to a state of normalcy—whatever that is. The practice dates back to the primordial past, a time of witch doctors and sorcery. Other religious devotees got into the act much later. Since no Holy Joe was on hand to assist me in my efforts to eject Wolf’s demon, I was obliged to go it alone.
While I as an amateur exorcist was free to put my own spin on everything, I still had to be careful. Ritualistic exorcism can be a perilous endeavor. If impossible things could happen to a possessed human being, they could happen to a wooden manikin. And I’d hate to see Wolf’s funny little blockhead spinning on his shoulders and his cute little mouth vomiting green twigs. The thought disturbed me almost as much as that of having termites crawling all over my apartment walls and finding myself flung from a fourth story window.
Yet I wasn’t worried. After all, the takeover that I was out to reverse did not involve demonic possession in the strictest sense. For that, Harry would have had to be demonic in his own right and, while he had his shortcomings, he was far from fiendish. When it came to Wolf, I felt the opposite applied. The portion of him that had set up housekeeping in Harry had to be at least a tad wicked in order to pull off such a peculiar revision. Since the invasion was in its early stages and far from complete, I felt confident that the entity I was dealing with was little more than a diminutive sprite.
The lower risk involved in showing Wolf’s occupant the door also afforded me the opportunity to employ paraphernalia of a lesser potency than the usual religious articles. Instead of holy water, a crucifix, and a bible, I settled for tap water, matches, salt, and a barf bag of course.
I dressed Wolf in an old sheet that I converted into a loose-fitting sackcloth worn as a sign of penitence. After carting him into my office in the alcove, I propped him on the stool in the corner, then arrayed the pertinent articles under a dim lamp on my desk.
“Hey, you in there,” I said to his demon. “This is your goodbye.” To my eyes, a woeful expression appeared superimposed on Wolf’s dopey face.
I sympathized yet still dipped my fingers into a bowl of tap water and sprinkled Wolf in the face. “I know you have issues. Nobody likes to be without a home,” I told Wolf’s demon. “But you can’t stay in there anymore than you can move back into Ha
rry.”
Water droplets rolled down my manny’s cheeks like tears. While the image saddened me, I couldn’t be swayed.
I tossed a pinch of salt over my left shoulder to ward off bad luck and commenced. “Wolf’s insides are private property. Trespassing is illegal. So it’s best you just pull up stakes.”
My threats seemed to have no effect.
“Harry, is that you in there?” I said hoping to get somewhere in the more established form of exorcism. Nothing. “Honey, has a part of you taken up inside Wolf?” Again nothing. “You’ve got to move out. Before it’s too late. Before the rest of you moves in.”
Clear I was getting nowhere, I next lowered my head and addressed Wolfs belly, another attempt to reason with the manny’s freeloader.
“I think you’ve made a big mistake. My guess is you were looking for more sexually gratifying accommodations than what a manikin could offer.” That made sense to me, given demons preference for depravity. It also explained why it had been encouraging Wolf to filch my door key and sneak out late at night.
I sniffed the air, fortunately clear of demon flatulence I might have provoked during my endeavor to oust the evildoer. “You see, it’s like this. Wolf is not equipped for the action demons are accustomed to.”
Then I began to suspect that, in part coming from Harry, this particular demon was rather naïve. “Okay, you obviously don’t know the drill. It’s real simple. It’s time to hit the road.”
Having so far failed, I speculated that I could have misinterpreted the situation. What if I’d unwittingly initiated some tricky rite that could piss off Wolfs resident entity to where it shook furniture, spewed obscenities, and made a stink big enough to clear the building? Then there’s that stuff involving masturbatory implements, human excrement, and unimaginable perversions. If Wolf suddenly started writhing and jerking, if he began dropping the F-bomb and touching his omitted privates, I simply couldn’t handle it.
“You wouldn’t,” I exclaimed horrified. I was still staring at him, thunderstruck, when I heard a distant tapping. Uh-oh, I thought. It’s starting.
“Yoo-hoo, Judy? It’s me,” sounded the muffled words.
Oh my gosh! Wolf?
I clapped my hand over my mouth, stifling a scream. More banging and calling occurred outside the front door. Gradually, I realized it was Ruthie.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said, when I finally opened the door. She examined my face then craned her neck, looking over my shoulder. “I thought I heard voices.”
“The TV’s on, a spooky movie.” I waved toward the blank screen angled off the foyer, behind my back. “I hadn’t heard you till I shut it off.”
“I’m heading out for some ice cream. You need anything?”
Do I ever, I thought, but said, “I’m good, thanks for checking.”
“My pleasure,” she said, remaining anchored in place, examining my face as if it looked strange. “Must have been some movie.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Scary, that’s for sure.” We then exchanged goodnights, and I quickly closed the door.
Tempting a Demon
An analysis of the techniques of my exorcism revealed that something was missing. The day after my attempt at the practice, I began to see what. Part of Wolf’s attraction was his indifference to sex. But, as everyone knows, demons are obsessed with it. The way I saw it, exposing the demonic freeloader to some hot action would cause it to become so frustrated that it would vacate to wherever exiled demons hang out.
To test my theory, I needed to go shopping, but not alone, not to that hellhole neighborhood that I had in mind. So I removed Wolf’s sackcloth and bundled his naked body in Harry’s black slicker and matching hat.
Early that afternoon, we drove out of the garage and heavy rain clouds roiled in the sky. Though not pressed for time—Harry wouldn’t be home till after five—I hurried, excited by the thought of returning my hubby to his former self, and possibly salvaging the notion of Manny, Inc. while at it.
A short while later, in the district host to strip clubs, junkies, and hookers, I parked in front of a neon-lit porn shop, advertising triple X-rated DVDs, and left Wolf strapped upright in the passenger seat.
Inside the aptly named Hot Spot, I selected four DVDs, each featuring different orientations, heterosexuality, homosexuality, bisexuality, and the demonic all time favorite, bestiality. I paid cash for my items and carried them out in a plain brown paper bag. As I suspected might happen, a creepy-looking man who’d been browsing the shelves in the shop followed me to the curb where I’d parked my Volvo.
I unlocked the car and opened the passenger door wide enough to give the would-be masher a clear view of Wolf.
“I got what you wanted, honey,” I said, placing the bag in the manny’s upturned hands at rest on his knees.
One look at the nude dummy in a black slicker and the masher took off like a shot. Whatever I was into, the stranger clearly wanted no part of it.
Back at the apartment, I situated Wolf in a wing-back chair close to the entertainment center. With a porn DVD chosen from the stack, I placed it in the machine and pressed play on the remote. Odd music full of flutes and drums poured through the speakers. I turned down the volume and stared at the screen, fascinated by the contorted positions and nimble gyrations. Soon enough, I turned away. Though disgusted, I was convinced that if anything could draw the demon out, this would.
And when it does, what will I do? The thing can’t be tangible. How could I trap it?
Outside, the windblown rain struck the building like buckshot. I jerked from my musings and looked at Wolf who appeared riveted to the action before him. I thought to turn the movie off and stop this process, but the remote lay on top of the DVD player, and I couldn’t bring myself to wedge between the manny and the TV.
My apprehension mounting, I cleared Wolf’s chair and headed for the wall behind the entertainment center. I reached for the plug to the TV when I heard a quiet thump at my back. I swung around, half expecting to see the hideous face of an angry demon coming out of nowhere. Instead, the front door swung open and Harry dressed in street clothes strode in with a stack of mail in his hand.
“Oh, you’re home,” I cried, relieved to see him.
“I took off early to catch up on some paperwork.” He dropped the mail on the console, slipped off his leather jacket, and hung it in the closet. “I left you a message.”
I had just now noticed the message indicator on the answering machine. “Well, at least you beat the traffic. It’s pouring out there.” I rushed forward and threw my arms around his neck.
“Hey, whoa, you missed me or something?”
Before I could answer, he glanced at the action on the TV then shifted his eyes to Wolf, sitting erect only inches from the screen. “How low can you get?” He pulled my arms away and stepped back.
I glanced at an outrageous anal maneuver on the TV. “Harry, I know this doesn’t look good, but you’ve got to hear me out. It’s not Wolf that’s been doing things, being bad and all. It’s something inside him. I’m doing this for you. I’m acting on your behalf. Wolfs been infected by something foul.”
“Tell me about it.”
“That’s just it, Har. You can’t know because you’re not aware of it. But believe me; what’s got hold of him is up to no good.”
Frowning, Harry scanned the room. “The only one around here up to no good is you.”
“Please, listen to me. Right now the demon is small and weak. I… we’ve got to send it on its way before it gets stronger. That’s all I was doing. I was tempting it in the hope of driving it mad with lust.”
Harry stood, distracted by the performance captured on the TV. “Is that a goat?” he asked, squinting.
“Uh-huh.” I pointed to the picture on the DVD jacket. “See, it’s like the Devil, hooves, pointy horns, and a tail.”
“Holy crap.” He again looked at the screen showing an orgy with animals. “Who the hell makes this crap
?”
“It’s not for us. It’s for Wolf’s demon.”
“Him?” Harry fired a glance at the manny. “What’s he doing naked in a raincoat?”
“He couldn’t wear his sackcloth out in this downpour.” Though concerned to see blood rise in Harry’s cheeks, I ventured on. “I was saving that for his exorcism. But demons don’t just show up, breathing fire and farting smoke. So I couldn’t really measure my success.”
“Yep, uh-huh, makes sense.” Harry nodded with a cynical expression. “Is this about body-snatching again?”
“Exactly. You see, Wolf really is deaf, dumb, and blind. But don’t let that façade fool you. I vowed to stick with you for better or worse, not a demon.”
After a long meditative moment, Harry pushed the manny away from the entertainment center and switched off the power. “You may be right. I’ll give you this. Maybe in some abstract way I have behaved like the manny.”
“Oh, Har, this isn’t your fault.”
“Somewhat, it might be.”
“Well, hell, if you want to take the blame.”
He examined the boxes of the other DVDs. “Tell you what. Trash the animal farm and later on we’ll take a peek at one or two of these.”
“They’re pretty raw. I should trash them all.”
He shrugged then retrieved a letter from the console and waved it under his chin. “I applied for a job with the Coast Guard.” A broad grin brightened his face. “Seems they’re interested.”
“That’s awesome. Congratulations.” Stupid as I felt standing there with my best-laid plans gone awry, I was glad to change the subject. “You’re for sure qualified.”
“With some more training.”
“That should be easy for you.” I ran my eyes across his solid physique, admiring his dedication to keeping fit.
“Well, I gotta get started,” he said, rotating toward my desk in the alcove.
At that moment, I could only think of disposing the DVDs and anticipating them banging down the metal trash chute.
Me and My Manny Page 16