Deliverance from Evil

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Deliverance from Evil Page 30

by Michael Cross


  As I walked I was not as sure-footed as normal. Perhaps it was my state of mind – being on some sort of autonomic auto-pilot. I was not really in a normal state of consciousness. I was blocking any real thoughts of the day, or the moment. I stumbled and fell. I stood up and took several steps but fell again, this time with my leg tearing against a jagged rock and leaving a gash in my jeans and a shallow laceration on my thigh. Yet as I stood and continued my journey I could feel the slight trickle of blood dripping down my leg, but not any pain. I looked down and noticed the blood but I did not even take the time or effort to wash off the wound with what little water I had left. I just kept walking in a zombie-like state hoping to reach the car before nightfall.

  Eventually I found myself back on the road. When I noticed the tracks in the dirt, I knew I had overshot the car. At least I was on the road though and I knew the direction of the car. When I reached my destination I looked for the keys, yet I could not find them. I collapsed onto the ground, fearing that I had lost them, but then I looked up and saw them in the door. Had I just put them there, or had they been there all day? I had no idea and that kind of scared me.

  Speaking of scared, I looked around at the vast empty space and felt it suffocating me! Part of me feared that the ground could just open up and swallow me whole, and nobody would be the wiser. Shadows were being casted by the sun as it was starting to dip over the hills on the horizon. I realized just how alone I was in the world – I had no family left, the woman who earlier this day had made me the center of her love and attention, who had shared her warmth with me, was somewhere off in the barren distances. The thought of nocturnal animals feeding upon her sent me into an actual panic attack! I was frozen, I had no ability to think rationally and I could barely breathe!

  I had spent most of my life alone, but that cannot compare to when you have had love in your life and then it is yanked away and you are left with nothing. That kind of despair was unbearable. I jumped into the car, not even noticing that I was still bare-chested, and struggled to put the keys in the ignition. My hands were shaking uncontrollably, but I just had to get away! It was as if some monster were about to devour me if I did not find my way to some sort of civilization and fast! Then I realized I had left the backpack outside. My hands shook as I tried to open the door – and when I finally had success I grabbed the pack, looked around to make absolutely sure nothing at all had been left, not even a candy wrapper, and then I jumped into the car, locked the door and sat there, trying to regain enough composure to finally leave.

  After I was able to get my breath back, and my heart had stopped racing quite so fast, I realized it would be best to put on my top. The sun was down now, and there were only faint rays of dusk left. Just to make absolutely sure nobody ever knew I had been there, I took the flashlight out of the glove compartment and searched the area outside the car one more time. It was empty and it was getting cold, and I wanted to get out of there now, before something did manage to get me.

  I was still in a sort of shock. I had no idea where I was going or what I should do. I just aimed the car for the main road. I knew I should not stay in Havre in case someone actually would find Bethany’s body in the near future. I would have to just follow the road to somewhere. Then it dawned on me – Boise! That was where the money was and that would be a good place to try to sort things out.

  I finally reached the comfort of the main road and then aimed the car for Havre. I figured I had enough gas to get to Great Falls, and then I could get to Route 15 and just drive as far as I could. I was glad it would be late at night when I would arrive in Great Falls because I did not want to be reminded of the fantasies that still lived inside of me until just a short time earlier. Yes, I missed Bethany; she had been my friend, the projection of the perfect mother, and had taken the step to be my lover. Now it was over! I could not cry though. It was not that I did not feel – I really was hurting me at my core – but I would try to come to terms with it later, and not alone on some deserted highway.

  As darkness overtook the landscape I tried to concentrate on not hitting some antelope or rabbit. The lines in the road were hypnotic, but I was determined to stay awake and drive. I tried to find something on the radio but there was nothing I liked. I wanted desperately to lose myself in some music, but when I came across a country station it caused me to remember Bethany. Then I started to think…how unfair life seemed to be. She had finally found happiness, and someone who would have been loyal to her for the rest of her life, and then she gets hit with a failing heart and cancer. That part of me that had always questioned God began to overwhelm that part that always saw a reason behind everything. Why did he give her such a morbid choice – to live a couple of years in agony or depart on her own terms and leave me? Why had God abandoned me?

  Yet who was I fooling? What was my nature? I had not tried to overpower Bethany, and force her not to take her life…what kind of commitment was that? And what about what Bethany had said about me being like my father? I was perfectly willing to sever all contact with my children and loves even though she had encouraged me to maintain these relationships. At that moment I felt the pain of realizing that Matt, Nicole and all the children were probably better off without me anyway, and I should dismiss any thought of just driving straight to Portland. I felt there truly was no going home.

  So there I was, Melanie Lindberg…wait! That no longer seemed right. Melanie Johnson? That seemed more fitting. I decided on that lonely road that I probably could lay low for a while and then re-adopt my maiden name. I could find some job in my field and begin to start a new life. I even contemplated moving to some place far away like maybe Europe. Then I realized that I really was following in my father’s footsteps. At that dark realization I slammed on the breaks and pulled open Bethany’s back pack. I dug through the various bottles of pills and found a bottle of sleeping pills. Upon opening the bottle I discovered it only had two tablets left; which was probably for the best because parked there in the middle of the road I had been closer to taking my life than I was comfortable in admitting.

  I threw the bottle to the floor and sat there in the dark, my only company the running of the engine. I lit a cigarette and tried to relax, but I was still tense. My heart was rushing again. I sat there for maybe an hour, trying to get some idea of what I believed in. I needed something, but nothing, not even my own existence, seemed to matter anymore.

  When I finally turned the key and pressed down on the accelerator I did not stop until I reached Butte – and the only reason I stopped there was for gas. I really did not want to go into the market at the station but, unlike Oregon, I had to pump my own gas and pay inside. I looked down at my leg. It throbbed a bit but the wound no longer bled. Yet my jeans were torn and soaked in blood. I struggled to take them off and slip into the first skirt that I could find in the back of the car…the one I had worn in Oregon. Blood had dripped onto my shoes so I had no choice but to put on the high heeled ones. I put my jacket on, got out and after filling the tank I rinsed off my leg with water for cleaning windows. I dried off with some paper towels and went inside to pay.

  While inside I looked around for something more powerful than coffee to stay awake. As I was looking at some caffeine pills a chubby man, maybe in his forties and wearing a cap with a motorcycle insignia came over to me and commented, “Those things work okay, but if you really want to stay awake I have some pills that will let you drive all the way to LA and not have to rest.” I did not answer him, yet he persisted, “Of course, if you want to rest I am staying at the hotel across the street. You could get all the pills you want in that case” I thought a moment about his offer. I would have categorized this guy as undeserving of the right to reproduce until just recently, but maybe I had descended lower than him and his kind. I asked, “What do you have in mind?” and then he whispered a suggestion in my ear that totally disgusted me. I loudly replied, “You are sick!” and walked over to the cashier and gave him the money for gas, coffee and the
caffeine tablets.

  As I was leaving the sicko guy yelled out, “I didn’t want you anyway you crazy bitch! You’d probably give me some disease that would rot my willie off!” I could hear him and a couple of the other men in the store laughing as I stormed out. I felt like waiting for them all to come out and then run them down with my car, but they were lucky that evening.

  So there I was, determined not to stop until I reached my destination. I gulped down two caffeine tablets with black coffee, lit a cigarette and finally found a classic rock station that I could turn on full blast and drown out any distractions from inside or outside myself.

  Hours later I refuelled in Twin Falls and then, as daylight broke, I counted down the mile posts to Boise. I was high on caffeine and nicotine and my heart was racing faster than ever. Yet as the dawn illuminated the surroundings I felt tiredness overtaking me. I took another caffeine pill and continued. By the time I finally reached the outskirts of Boise I felt a relief, but knew I needed rest fast.

  The first thing I was determined to do was find a nice hotel to stay at. I needed to unwind and take inventory of my wounds…mental wounds. I did not want to stay at the place Bethany and I had stayed though…too many memories. I found another nice place next to it. I parked my car, tossed my cigarette down and walked in. It was a hot day but I kept my jacket on. I was so very tired and still in a state of disbelief over the events I had experienced. The last thing I cared about was my appearance but the staff certainly did. When I approached the check-in the young man and woman behind the desk both seemed to be examining me as if I were going through an airport security check.

  I asked about rooms, and fumbled through my pocket for money, pulling out several crumpled one-hundred dollar bills. The man stopped me though, “Ma’am I’m truly sorry but we have no vacancy.” I was desperate and asked, “Isn’t this like Tuesday or Wednesday? How could you be booked up?” The woman replied, “Uh…there are conventions taking place right now – everything is full!” As she was making her comment I noticed she was staring at my arm. I looked at it and noticed the bruise left by the needle when I was at Glacier Park as well as a couple others that had not heeled yet. When I looked up the man responded, “Yeah, that’s right, yeah, big conventions – all the nice establishments are fully booked.”

  I knew what was going on and I was totally disgusted, but my main objective was a room. I asked, “Couldn’t you check your books one more time? I have been on the road for hours and I do not have time for games.” The woman picked up her phone and said, “I’m not playing any games at all!” I slammed my fist onto their desk and screamed, “Look, I am a psychologist, okay? I know when people are trying to screw around with me!” The man warned, “Ma’am if you do not leave I’ll call the police!” The woman cautioned him, “It’s okay I am on the phone with security right now.” He looked at me and said, “Here, you can probably find a place if you follow the directions on the map in this tourist brochure.” He circled an area and wished me luck, then looked away from me. The woman on the phone told whoever she was speaking to, “Wait just a minute…let me see what she does.” I decided that an exit would be the best choice. I turned to leave, but stopped, turned to face them again and said, “I will not forget this!” and then left.

  I tried to think of ways to get back at these two arrogant imbeciles, but that could wait. I needed a place to stay fast, now that I could barely keep my eyes open. I was also starving as it was nearing dinner time, but food was low on my priority list as I tried to find my way using the map the idiot had given me.

  Soon I noticed that the standard of housing was lower as I approached a mixed business, residential and industrial area. I quickly found the hotel he had marked and it certainly was not what I had in mind. It had an old neon sign, and as I drove in it looked like most people staying there were Mexican. I hesitated, thinking perhaps I should try to find a budget hotel near the freeway, but if by chance the people at the first hotel had been telling the truth those places might be full as well. I decided to park and take my chances.

  I walked into the lobby and was greeted by a woman who appeared to be from India. She gave me a form to fill out and then told me, “Lady…no drugs. You understand?” I scowled at her and was about to just lose it, but I decided I needed a room more than I needed to make a point. I picked up the key and went to my room.

  When I walked in I locked the door and collapsed on the bed. Within minutes I had fallen asleep. Perhaps a few hours later I awoke when someone had slammed a door. I looked at the clock on the TV I noticed it was 2am. I laid there and stared at the window for a few minutes and marvelled at how the flickering light of the broken neon sign created some sort of 1950s avant garde atmosphere. I felt so out of place, yet in a strange way I felt like maybe this is where I belonged. Maybe I deserved no better. I closed the curtains, looked in the mirror and wondered who I really was. Before I had found Nicole I defined myself, after Nicole and Matt, I blended that persona with their expectations. When Vincent and Bethany came into my life I was able to let someone else shape me, and with them all gone who was left? I sat on my bed and started to shake…I was truly scared. Then it hit me – Bethany really was gone! I suddenly felt afraid and curled up in a foetal position and started to cry. I did not know who I was anymore.

  My stomach ached so bad that I felt like I was going to throw up. I needed food, but I had no idea where to get any. There was nothing left in the car and so I just laid there wondering how to get any focus back into my life. Then, like a creeping, ghostlike presence I started feeling more and more enveloped in depression; but not the kind that one feels when they have a momentary hardship in life. No, this was different. I was losing any sense of enjoyment, any sense of hope – I was drifting into a state of melancholy. I did not care about anything, not any one or even if I lived or died! Yet I was terrified of everything around me; the closed door of the closet, the bathroom, everything! I reasoned that I was just short on minerals and needed something to eat so after enduring hours of mental anguish and hunger until around 8am I went to the office to ask where I could buy some groceries. The same woman was there, “You check out?” I shook my head and asked where I could buy groceries. The woman pointed down the street and sure enough, there was a market with a 24 hour sign in front. I thanked her and asked, “Can I pay for several days in advance?” She took out a form and said, “Check off days – I add up your cost.”

  I decided this did not look like a good area to have valuables. I had the money we had taken at the bank and that combined with what was in Bethany’s back pack was well over five thousand dollars. I would go ahead and buy a larger purse that did not seem to be so tempting to snatch for a would-be thief and hide the rest behind the spare tire in the trunk.

  At the store I felt fairly out of place being the only white woman there. I wondered what the other customers thought of me, especially dressed as I was, yet strangely nobody seemed to notice. In fact, the cashier started talking to me in Spanish as she loaded all I had bought, including a cheap, but cute, large purse which matched my attire since all I could choose from was either purses designed for children’s or the ones with a “bling” sort of look. She continued speaking in Spanish. Maybe with the black hair and my eye shape she thought I too was Hispanic. She smiled at me and handed me the groceries and I said, “Thank you.” She said, “Ah…seniorita are you visiting here?” I nodded. She continued, “Be careful not to be out at night in this area. It is dangerous.” I thanked her again and left the store.

  Upon returning to the apartment I opened up my favorite brand of chips and soda and sat down to switch on the TV. I had hoped I would feel better but I found I could not get any pleasurable sensations from the food. The programs on TV were totally uninteresting as well. In fact, I switched on the news and felt absolutely nothing as they commented on events. All the other programs were either in Spanish or were cheap re-runs of prime time TV. I felt empty and I felt nothing lived in me. I was sinking fas
t. I did not know what to do – I was drifting into a state in which I just did not care anymore, yet when I laid down I became aware of an intense fear of falling asleep…fearing I would never wake up! So I simultaneously felt I had nothing to live for but was terrified of dying. This was the ultimate hell.

  I reasoned that maybe I could drown my depression. After a morning of dread and hopelessness I decided I needed something to kick start my mind. I noticed that next to the TV was a sign saying I could rent a DVD player in the main office. I hoped maybe some movies – if that did not work then there was always chemical suppression. I took my jeans out of the plastic bag I had stuffed them into at the gas station. I hoped to wash them so I could dress more casually but as I surveyed the blood stains I realized they were beyond cleaning. So while the temperature might not have been so warm anymore I was forced to continue wearing one of my skirts. I tossed my jeans into the garbage can next to the window.

  Soon I went out on my quest. As I drove I could see that the woman’s warning was probably accurate. This was an area I certainly would avoid at night. I stopped at a liquor store and filled a bag with an assortment of beverages. I left and noticed a video store in the same business complex so I decided to make another stop. It was certainly not a classy place, and many DVDs on sale were not in English, but they did have a cult classic section with some of the types of movies Nicole and I had loved to watch. I hoped I could at least feel something. Then something else caught my eye – a movie section of a more erotic nature. I normally did not spent much time on internet sites offering this variety of entertainment, but I reasoned that maybe something of a sexual nature could knock me out of my doldrums. So I went ahead and bought both a gore and a porn movie. I must really be down I reasoned.

 

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