Deliverance from Evil

by Michael Cross

  When I got back to the apartment I tried to eat but I had to force the food down my throat. I did not have nearly as much trouble with the vodka, which seemed to numb my state of despair a bit, but not enough to give me any feeling of purpose or direction as I still had no feeling or desire for anything. I would try for the remainder of the day to drown my state of apathy and nihilism in alcohol. I was in a pathetic state; sitting on floor in my underwear, several bottles of partially consumed alcohol in front of me and staring at the music videos on a Spanish network.

  As the small amounts of light in the window started to disappear I realized the day was about over, but I did not care. I finally got the ambition to set up the DVD player I had rented from the office and turn on the movies, yet that only depressed me more if that were even possible. All I did was analyse how unrealistic the killing scenes were and so I just turned it off halfway and put in the other movie instead, hoping to feel some spark of desire. Yet I felt nothing at all. In fact, it only reminded me that now I had nobody to share any part of my life with. And then it hit me! It had been four and a half months since I had nursed my daughter, and yet my system had not returned to its normal cycle. The fear that I indeed had gone through some sort of menopause returned! Was that aspect of my life gone as well? What else, I thought, could go wrong for me?

  For the next three days and nights I remained in my despair. I only drank, smoked and watched whatever horrid programming was on TV. I had barely touched the food I had bought – I mostly drank my meals. I did not have the ambition to shower, get dressed or really do anything. The only time I did sleep was when I drank myself into passing out. At one point I barely woke up while feeling extremely nauseous. I stumbled to the bathroom and as I hugged the toilet I began to tremble when I realized how easy I could have died if I had not woke up. I collapsed onto the dirty floor and began to sob…not for any reason, just because I got a quick glimpse in my mind’s eye of just how pathetic I had become. At that point I passed out on the cold linoleum floor.

  I woke up with a throbbing headache, upset stomach, and the sudden total recall of what had happened maybe just a few hours earlier. I struggled to get to the bed. I noticed the room was dark, except for my friend the neon sign that flickered through the spaces between the curtains and the TV. I quickly turned on a light as the darkness scared me. I sat on the bed, taking deep breaths, and feeling my heart begin to pound harder and faster. I then heard some evangelist on TV say something about hope, prayer and despair. I watched him speak for a moment and suddenly became angry and yelled, “What do you know about despair you fake!” I was tempted to throw something at the TV but thought maybe something better would be to turn the porn movie back on instead as a personal act of protest.

  I sat there and watched the video for a few minutes and got this really strange thought and started talking out loud to myself, “I wonder if I could get rid of this depression through sex, lots of sex...no not the type that requires love or commitment – just animalistic lust....making myself happy and not having to worry about whoever was sharing my bed at the time.” The idea really caught me! All my life I had denied myself; in my quest for finding deepness, dignity and being with someone who cared about me and my feelings. Perhaps it was time to just give in and become some hedonistic lowlife tramp, what did I have to lose? After all, Vincent just might have been right after all. So I rushed to the mirror and looked at myself. I decided then and there that I really was desirable and it was my chance to finally cut the ties to the old me. I again told myself, “Bethany I am going to make you proud!” I turned off the movie and switched on the preacher instead. I sarcastically thanked him for helping me get what I needed – a quest, a self-destructive quest to be sure, but still a quest. I looked at the clock to see if there was still time to go out that very moment, but I was shocked to see that it was almost 5am in the morning! I had been passed out for maybe eight or ten hours! Oh well, I could rest and devote the next day to finally discovering a new me.

  Chapter 18

  I was only feeling slightly better when I finally got up and took a shower. It felt nice to wash off the stench of a several-day alcohol binge yet, when I walked out of the bathroom, I suddenly became aware of the scent that permeated the room I had been locked away in. I was glad I had not unpacked the few clothes I had – I hoped they were still somewhat fresh at least.

  I kept the drapes closed but opened up the windows to let in clean air. My background noise would be the sound of cars driving by as well as people yelling to each other in Spanish as I started my new re-birthing project. I would do my best to avoid any drinking or smoking so I could have a somewhat level head as I set the stage for my hunt. I did not bother cleaning up though since I planned on paying for a couple more days even though I anticipated that I would be sleeping somewhere else that evening. The sole focus of my attention was on make-up and trying to style my hair so that I could look totally alluring. As I rummaged through the make-up Bethany had bought me I noticed the little container for the brown contacts. I had become so used to wearing them that I had only taken them out while medicating myself into drunkenness. Yet since Bethany was gone I decided there was no reason to wear them anymore. I put them into the container and tossed it into the garbage. However, a moment later I retrieved them…why, I couldn’t say, but I decided not to dispose of them.

  When I looked in the mirror again I was satisfied with attaining the transformation I had desired. The only thing left was to try on the black evening gown Bethany had bought me. I shook it out to try to make sure it did not look too wrinkled and then put it on. I was quite pleased. When I turned around I noticed that most of my tattoo was exposed. It matched the aura I was trying to project though, and wearing that dress made me totally feel like a seductress. Now all that was left was to try to eat something and find a place that was somewhat upscale. I was not going to start my adventure with some cowboy or red neck, that was for sure.

  I ordered some Chinese food to be delivered since most of the food I had bought several days earlier was stale or spoiled. When I tried to eat I actually found some enjoyment in the process but I was still far from recovered from my state of mind. As I ate I looked through the phone book and decided to call the tourist information bureau to find out where an upscale visitor might relax in the evening. They suggested several places and I took directions down. Ironically the first place they listed was the lounge at the hotel Bethany and I had stayed at. That would be my destination! I was feeling confident and, after all, I looked good! It was a Friday night, and I was optimistic that my strategy would bring me back to life, a new life.

  I went through my things and pulled out the book I and Dr. Hodge had written together. As I skimmed through the pages it seemed as if I was reading someone else’s work…a fascinating observation to say the least. I finally got bored for some reason and put the book in my large purse. Then I decided it might be okay to get an early start on the evening. I slipped on the high heeled shoes Bethany had given me and reached for my little purse but as I did I accidentally knocked over an open bottle of scotch and some of it spilt onto the purse. How clumsy of me to do that. Now I would have to take the larger one, but in my frustration, and the desire to just get out of the room, I quickly grabbed everything I thought I would need and tossed it into the large bag. I then hurried out the door and to the car! I checked the trunk and, sure enough, the money was there. There was no way I was going to trust thousands of dollars in my room. I took a deep breath, and then was on my way to the lounge.

  When I got to my destination I parked almost exactly where Bethany and I had and headed for the desk in the lobby. I did not have to ask for directions though as I heard jazz music and also saw a sign directing guests to the lounge. This was it, I thought! I was not scared, not held back by any feelings for anyone, just ready to end this dreadful state I was in. It was odd though, I had not even considered preparation for this evening. I had not thought about any birth control, although I wa
s coming to terms with the idea that I probably was not going to return to any state of fertility anyway. Yet there was also the issue of health risks of unprotected sex, but again the way I felt that moment I was not concerned with that.

  I sat at the front bar and relaxed, listening to the nice jazz music in the background. I ordered a strawberry daiquiri and waited. Then, after a short time, a nicely dressed man in his late 30s sat down next to me. He did not say a word as he ordered a soft drink and just looked around. I noticed he looked in really good shape so I commented, “Hi there – a soft drink, huh?” He said, “Yeah, I’m not into alcohol.” I said, “No, neither am I – I mean, not normally.” I then laughed at the funny expression he got. He seemed out of place, almost innocent, so I figured this guy was perfect. We started a little conversation and he said he was in town for a medical convention. I thought that was even better! I began to flirt with him but he was not biting. He then stated, “You know, I am married, but it sure is lonely here in this town.” I replied, “Well, same here, I mean I would love to have someone to be with. What do you have in mind?” He then said, “No, I can’t...I mean, I doubt you are interested in me for anything special, and I have never paid for anything of that nature.”

  I suddenly came to the realization that he thought I was a prostitute! However, rather than getting angry, I was curious about what my abilities could be in such a situation. I decided to play with the idea and ask, “Well, depends on what you have in mind.” He shyly looked around and said, “Oh, I should not do this…would you accept two thousand dollars and we can go up to my room and go from there?” I was in shock, but I was also having fun with this. Besides, if he wanted to pay for what I was planning on giving for free then all the better! I said, “I assume this will be in cash.” He said “Absolutely” and we got up and left the bar together.

  I actually felt something at that moment! Perhaps it was a combination of adrenaline, the mystery of what was going to take place this evening and the taboo. Yet as we left the lounge a somewhat heavy set, unattractive, woman rapidly approached us and said, “Ma’am, you are under arrest for the crime of solicitation. Please come with us.” I was mortified! The man and woman were both cops! And here I was being arrested for being a prostitute? I could not believe what was happening! She grabbed me by my arm and said, “This way please” and started reading me my rights. I did not know what to say, but as I had a hard time concentrating on anything except the sudden fear that if they found out how much money I was carrying, or found anything else suspicious about me, this might just be the end of me – literally! Yet just as I was being led out the doors, and people were watching the drama, I tripped. And as I twisted around to catch my footing the woman cop must have interpreted this as resisting arrest and she yanked me to the side, held me over a rail and proceeded to put handcuffs on me!

  She basically pushed me out the door and to their unmarked car. I realized I had to come up with something fast, and I did, “Hey, officers, this is a huge mistake – I am a psychologist and I am…I am working on the subject of social norms and taboo. It’s all part of my new book! Seriously, I am not a prostitute, I am a wife and mother for God’s sake!” The female cop responded, “Hey Charlie, that’s a first, this lady says she is a psychiatrist working on a study!” She then started laughing. I corrected her by stating, “I said psychologist, not psychiatrist.” The male cop came over and asked if I had any proof of who I was or what I really was doing. I asked, “Can you please look in my purse?” The female cop shook her head in disbelief as he put it on the hood of their car. I quickly stated, “Yes, I give you permission – please, I even have my last book in there!” He pulled it out and just glanced at the cover, but then asked, “Do you have any driver’s license or other identification?” I realized in dread that I had left my license in the pocket of the other purse, and that was my only photo identification! He looked through my wallet, “You have some credit cards with the name Melanie Lindberg on them – is that your real name ma’am?” I said it was, but then the female cop said, “You don’t actually believe this little hooker, do you Charlie? She probably stole that wallet anyway – look, it’s certainly not a cheap brand but the purse is. The little whore is lying!” I figured she did not have to know I had bought the wallet in Beijing for about ten dollars. I then said, “Please look at my picture on the back of the book – that’s me!”

  The cop shined his flashlight at the picture, then at me and then repeated the process. He said, “I’m not totally sure…it looks like her Sandra.” The female cop, noticeably frustrate, stared at him with one of those “I can’t believe you are saying this” looks. I then noticed that he was wearing one of the little rings that are popular with members of Matt’s church. I immediately asked, “So you are Mormon as well?” That seemed to surprise him. He said, “Uh, why yes I am.” I responded, “I teach in the nursery during Sunday school. My children are in there. Please, I am not a prostitute.” When the female cop was about to say something he said, “Wait a moment Sandra, let’s see if she is telling the truth.” He asked in an inquisitory manner, “Ma’am, what’s the name of the man and his position who is also on this book?” I told him Dr. Hodge’s full name and university position. He again looked at my picture in silence a moment, then he took a laptop computer out of his car and started looking up Dr. Hodge.

  When he picked up his phone and started dialing the number on the university web page I was again in dread, “You aren’t going to call him, are you? He’s going to never let me live this down!” His partner smirked. He did not stop; he started writing another number down, apparently he was given a forwarding number as Dr. Hodge was no longer officially with the university. The female cop glared in silence at me as he started talking to someone. He stopped a moment and told his partner, “The professor says that anything she says is true and that he is working on several projects with her.” The woman stated, “You have to be kidding me” and rolled her eyes. She started taking the cuffs off my hands but whispered to me, “You are damn lucky but I don’t believe you were doing research for a second.”

  Then the male cop said, “Miss Lindberg, the professor wants to talk with you.” He handed me the phone and I reluctantly said hello, scared almost more to talk to him than spending the evening in jail. He asked how I was doing and if I was safe. I assured him I was. He then said, “Melanie, I have Tuesday afternoon totally free. I want you at my house no later than 2pm, do you understand? No later than 2pm!” I started to protest but he stated, “Melanie, I have talked with your husband and your, your uh… friend Nicole. I never for a moment believed you vanished on your own accord. Please, will you promise me you will see me Tuesday? Besides, I just promised your police friend I would speak for his department on criminal psychology, so you owe me.” I laughed and said, “Okay I will be there on Tuesday but you have to promise me nobody else will be there.” He agreed and said, “Melanie I also expect you to accompany me when I speak for your new police friend’s department seminar.” I assured him I would. I handed the policeman his phone and he looked at me, “I apologize for any inconvenience you might have experienced this evening Mrs. Lindberg. However I strongly suggest you go home as well as avoiding any further research at this particular establishment.” As I walked away I turned and noticed the female cop looking at me with a scowl on her face. I left quickly when I realized they both had forgotten I had no driver’s license on me.

  When I arrived back at the hotel I collapsed on the bed and wondered about the ironies of life. Had everything gone as planned I would have been in bed with some unknown guy, starting a life of wreck-less promiscuity and who knows what else. Now I was supposed to go to go see Dr. Hodge – but why? Why did he want to see me but not give any details? I considered just skipping the appointment but I was extremely curious as to what he wanted. And this little unexpected event actually seemed to give my moods a boost! Of course I was happy to fall asleep in the bed, and not a jail cell. Yet I felt strangely like som
eone was there in the room with me. It was not that eerie feeling of terror, but I still looked everywhere to make sure I was alone. Then I felt a throbbing sensation in my arm where the last needle had been inserted by Bethany. I looked around me and asked aloud, “Bethany?” and then felt a warm feeling inside. I was not sure if my mind was playing tricks on me but I did smile and laid on my stomach and said a little prayer of thanks for the night turning out as it had. I fell into a deep sleep while feeling a strange, yet comforting sense of not being alone anymore.

  The next day was Sunday, and I even toyed with the idea of going to church, but I had no clothing that even I would consider wearing to such an occasion. That meant I had to go shopping and get some new clothes if I was going to meet with Dr. Hodge. And at that point I became aware of how he had said Matt and Nicole had met with him – they apparently had tried to find me! Yet what was the deal now? I began to wonder if I had written them off prematurely. I realized, no matter what, the next week was going to be complicated, but considering the depression I had just been through, and was still experiencing, although in a far less degree, I guessed I could face anything. And I had to know once and for all where I stood.

  That morning I took some vodka, mixed it with fruit juice, looked in the mirror and toasted to my future. I was not saying that I was going to get rid of my acquired tastes, but for some reason I did not feel the compulsion to binge drink at that moment. In fact, I only had a couple of cigarettes before getting dressed and heading out to do some clothes shopping. Just for fun, I decided to overdo the make-up again and even skip the jacket. By the time I was through I looked a bit sleazy, but I kind of enjoyed it. In fact, I even wore the high heels to magnify the effect. Now it was time to look for an upscale clothing store at one of the malls.