Forgiven

by Gina Detwiler

  “Are you…him?”

  Jared smiles. “Hi.” He puts his hand out to shake.

  “It’s nice to meet you, finally. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She might actually be blushing. I half expect her to ask for a selfie.

  Ralph and Silas soon join us. I introduce them to Melanie who mumbles a greeting, barely noticing them.

  “Did you tell her we were coming?” I ask.

  “No. I thought it might be best if it were a surprise. She’s not even up yet—another bad night. Come in, Richard will take care of your luggage. Carla is making lunch.”

  Jared grabs his guitar and slings it over his back. I get the impression he might need it. We follow Melanie inside. She leads us through the wide foyer to the kitchen.

  The kitchen might have come straight out of a Tuscan villa, with weathered cabinetry and a wood-beamed ceiling. Melanie introduces us to Carla, the cook and housekeeper. She must be new—I don’t remember her from before.

  “You help Missus, yes?” She catches hold of my arm. She’s tiny but her grip is fierce, her eyes red-rimmed as if she’s been crying.

  “We’ll try.”

  Melanie invites us to sit on stools around the large center island and offers us iced tea. A plate of cookies sits on the counter. I wonder if my mother knows there are cookies in her house. The old Shannon would never allow it.

  “I try to get her to eat but she eats nothing,” Carla says as she stirs something spicy-smelling in a huge pot on the stove. “She so skinny. You can see right through her. She like a skeleton!”

  “Do you want me to get her up?” Melanie sounds rather reluctant. I suspect getting Shannon out of bed can be an ordeal.

  “Not yet. Let’s talk first,” says Ralph.

  I stir sugar into my tea, wishing it was coffee. Jared, sitting next to me, doesn’t touch his. His arms are folded his face very still. His eyes glow faintly, which usually means he senses danger. I wonder what sort of spiritual activity he sees. The guitar leans against his leg. I half-wish he would take it out and play something to drive away whatever demons lurk nearby.

  “Why don’t you tell us a little about what’s been going on with Shannon,” Ralph says. “So we can get a clearer picture before we talk to her.”

  Melanie sets her phone down. I’d never seen her do that before.

  “Where do I begin? I was still in New York when Harry called, about three months ago, looking for a new assistant for Shannon. He offered to pay me way too much money, and for the chance to live out here…well, I took the job. Once I got here and saw the condition Shannon was in, I understood why he was willing to pay so much. Several assistants had quit over the past year.” Her phone buzzes and she pauses peek at the screen.

  “What exactly did you observe?” asks Ralph.

  “At first, it was erratic behavior like the old Shannon, only worse. She’d be angry when she didn’t get her way and scream at everyone. She always did that. But there was a new edge to it now, something a little too crazy. Her doctor said she was stressed out because of the campaign, so he prescribed Xanax. For a while, it seemed to help, but then the fits started again and they grew more and more violent. She’d go crazy over the littlest things and throw valuable vases, statues, ashtrays—whatever she could get her hands on. I can’t even tell you how many lamps we’ve had to replace. But then, five minutes later, she would laugh about what she’d done, and make jokes or even apologize.

  “Harry thought it was the alcohol—she was drinking a lot—so he took it all away. We have standing orders not to let her drink. Somehow, she still manages to get her own supply. We don’t know how. Maybe she bribes the gardener or something. I’ve found bottles stashed in the fireplace, under couch cushions…Carla found one in her underwear drawer.

  “She hardly sleeps at night, and when she does she has terrible nightmares. She wakes the whole house with her screams. When Harry’s not home she begs me to sleep in her room. She’s terrified of being alone. But then she ends up sleeping most of the day.”

  “And her spells, like the one on election night?” Ralph asks.

  “They aren’t fainting spells, that’s for sure. She was tested for epilepsy, but the results were negative. The brainwave tests came out normal. There doesn’t seem to be any explanation.”

  “And therapy has proved ineffective?”

  “So far. Dr. Lewis is the best—she treats all the celebrities in the Bay Area. But she told Harry she can’t make real progress with Shannon. Shannon either lies outright or recites nursery rhymes instead of answering her questions.”

  “You mentioned that she harmed herself.” Ralph has taken a small notebook from his jacket and is scribbling notes. “Have there been other incidents like that? Self-harming?”

  Melanie blanches. “The day before the election, I pulled up in the driveway around noon and saw her walking toward the pool. I was surprised—she never went near the pool. Then she just walked right over the edge into the water—fully dressed. I ran up because I thought maybe she’d accidentally fallen in but she wasn’t swimming. She was sinking. I had to dive in and get her out. And when I did, she was angry with me, shouting and spitting at me in this voice that was…well, not her voice. It was awful.” Melanie takes a deep breath. “That was the last straw.”

  “She should have gone to a hospital,” I say.

  “That’s what I said.” She laughs darkly. “I told Harry once the election was over, I was done. But then you called.” She looks at me. “Maybe it was…a sign.”

  “Does Harry know we’re here?” I ask.

  “Yeah. He wasn’t too happy about it, but he’s at his wit’s end. He’ll try anything. As long as we keep your visit quiet. If you know what I mean.”

  “I get it.” I send Ralph a quick glance. “This is all totally confidential.”

  Melanie breathes out a sigh of relief. “Grace…this is awkward but…you’re sort of religious, aren’t you? I mean, I don’t know if I believe in God, but honestly, what I’ve seen her do these past few months…there’s something so weird about it, so…”

  “Demonic?” Ralph asks gently.

  “Yeah, maybe. I know it’s crazy.”

  “Not as crazy as you might think,” murmurs Silas.

  “In fact,” Ralph says, “we need to tell you that it is our intention to find out if Shannon is demonized. Perhaps even possessed.”

  “Possessed?” Melanie’s eyebrows lift. “That’s a real thing? Like The Exorcist?”

  “Well, not quite like that. But yes, it’s a real thing. Does Shannon, by any chance, consult a medium?”

  “She used to. For years. Myrna Priven. She lives in West Hollywood.”

  “That’s good to know. What about other ‘spiritual’ pursuits? New Age? Astrology? Anything like that?”

  “Oh, yeah. Shannon used to go to those New Age seminars and met with gurus and all kinds of spiritualists. She had her charts read twice a year. Everyone does that in the entertainment business. But after she married Harry, she became a mega-Christian, leading women’s studies and preaching and everything. So she must have stopped all that stuff.”

  “Hmmm. Not necessarily. I’m not convinced Shannon has truly accepted Christ. In any event, Christians can also be demonized, a little-known fact. Especially if they have spent time dabbling in the occult. Can you check her cell phone? See if there’ve been any calls to Myrna in the recent months?”

  “Sure,” Melanie says. “Have you talked to the shrink…I mean, Dr. Lewis?”

  “Yes. I explained what we plan to do. She was quite skeptical, but I referred her to some literature and now, she is willing to allow us to work with Shannon under her supervision.”

  “I want to see my mother.” I stand and face the others. “Alone.”

  Melanie gives me a queasy look. “I’m not sure what she’ll do. I take it you and she didn’t part on the best of terms.”

  “That’s true,” I say with a sigh. “She almost had me killed, and I almost had
her arrested. But I still want to see her. And don’t worry. I’ll be safe.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Jared says.

  “No. You will only antagonize Lilith. She hates you even more than she hates me.”

  “Lilith?” asks Melanie, confused.

  “It’s what the spirit calls itself.” I turn to Silas. “Can you come with me?”

  He rises and nods for me to lead the way. Jared looks unhappy, but he doesn’t voice an objection.

  “Stay calm, whatever you do,” Ralph says. “That’s the most important thing. If the entity starts to speak, don’t engage with it at all. Talk only to Shannon. And if she gets violent—”

  “I know what to do.” I turn and head upstairs to my mother’s suite.

  ***

  The room is dark. It smells musty, like old clothes in a thrift shop. That’s weird. Shannon is a neat freak with a bionic nose.

  I glance around. The walls are painted a deep gold and the furniture is heavy, dark wood. Not Shannon’s style at all. Her apartment in New York had been sleek and modern. A heaviness weighs on me as I step into the room, made worse by the oppressive darkness. There’s no movement from the large, rumpled bed.

  Leaving Silas in the doorway, I go to the window and open the slatted blinds. I want to open the window as well, but it’s sealed shut. So she can’t jump out?

  Bars of light stream across the bed where my mother lies. Her eyes snap open. I freeze and clutch the shade pull. I half expect her to open her mouth and reveal ugly fangs.

  She turns over and buries her face in the pillow.

  “Carla? What are you doing? Close the friggin’ blinds. I’m trying to sleep.”

  A grumpy, normal Shannon voice. I let out a breath.

  “Hey, Mom,” I say. “It’s me. Grace.” I take a few steps toward the bed. Shannon slowly raises her face from the pillow and, squinting against the light, peers at me.

  “Grace? What are you doing here?” She glances around the room as if she isn’t sure where she is. Her fingers clutch the bedsheets. “What time is it?”

  “Around noon.”

  “Oh my. Why didn’t Melanie get me up? I have to do something about that girl. So irresponsible.” She sits up and tries to straighten her hair, turning away, averting her face. “Why are you here? I thought you would never speak to me again.”

  “I was worried about you. I saw the news and I thought you might be sick.”

  “I’m not sick.” Her voice sharpens. “I’m fine. Just fine. Did you come alone?”

  “No. Ralph and Jared are here. And…Charles.” I use Silas’ first name.

  “Charles…” Her lips form the word slowly, her brow furrowed. “I don’t…know who that is. Please go away. I’m not up for company.”

  “Mom.” I cross to the bed and sit down beside her. “I came to help you.”

  “Help me? I don’t need help.”

  “Yes, you do. You know you do. There’s a spirit inside you, and it needs to come out.”

  She jerks upright and her eyes snap open, so I can see white all around the irises. Then she emits a harsh, mocking bark of laughter.

  Lilith.

  “Are you still into all that demon stuff? There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m a Christian now, for God’s sake. My husband is the most famous preacher on the planet! And he’s the governor of California. If anyone here has a demon, it’s you!”

  “Mom, please listen—” I put my hand over hers. She recoils as if I my touch burned her skin.

  “No! Go away. Please. Go away.” Her voice becomes thin and reedy, a little girl’s voice. “Go. Please. Go. I can’t. I can’t. Don’t. Go.” She buries her face in the pillows.

  I glance at Silas, who motions for me to leave.

  “Okay, I’ll go. Why don’t you shower and get dressed? Then you can come down to the kitchen and eat something and we can talk more.”

  She doesn’t answer. I rise and leave the room. Silas closes the door after me. He is quiet, his eyes glassy.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nods. “I just…I haven’t seen her in so long.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think—we have our work cut out for us.”

  12: Rescue Me

  Jared

  From the moment I walked into this house I felt the resistance. The oppression almost stopped me in my tracks. For me, such darkness is as alluring as it is repellant. It is not a place I should linger.

  But I have to stay for Grace’s sake.

  She is calm when she returns from her mother’s room, Silas at her side. She doesn’t speak as she sits next to me on the stool. I glance at Silas. Not good? He shakes his head.

  “How is she?” I ask.

  Grace sighs. “Pretty awful.”

  Carla sets a large bowl of paella on the table along with a basket of crusty bread and a pitcher of iced tea. Ralph says the blessing and we eat silently for a few minutes. Grace does not eat with her usual enthusiasm. She takes a few bites and pushes the plate away.

  “No good?” Carla rushes over. “I get you something else?”

  “No, it’s delicious. It’s just…my stomach doesn’t feel too good right now.”

  Melanie comes in from some other room, brandishing her phone and grinning.

  “I got a hold of Myrna!” she announces. “When I told her who I was she almost hung up on me. She didn’t want to talk about Shannon at all. She seemed—spooked.”

  “Interesting.” Ralph exchanges glances with me. “Melanie, that story you told about the pool—I believe it might have been a positive sign.”

  “Oh?”

  “At first, I thought that Lilith actually tried to drown Shannon. But that wouldn’t make sense. For one thing, demons hate water. For another thing, I don’t believe Lilith is done with her yet. No, the more I think about it, the more I believe Shannon might have been trying to drown Lilith. She would have drowned herself as well, of course, and so it was a good thing—or perhaps a God thing—that you were there to pull her out. But it shows, at least, that there is a part of her that wants to get rid of this demon.”

  “Then Shannon’s in real danger,” I say. “Demons don’t like it when their hosts try to renounce them. Lilith will retaliate.”

  “I believe she already has.”

  Melanie interrupts. “You know, I remember a few years ago when Shannon had to do a beach scene for a movie. There was a part where she had to go into the ocean, and she absolutely refused to do it. She threw one of her famous fits and the writers had to re-do the whole scene. I thought she’d had some bad experience in her past that still haunted her.”

  “What do you know of her past? Her childhood?”

  “Next to nothing. She never talks about her family.”

  “I read her Wikipedia page,” Grace says. “But I have a feeling it’s all made up. It doesn’t sound like a real life. Maybe she doesn’t even remember her own life. Maybe she’s erased it.”

  “Or Lilith did,” I say. “Lilith could manipulate her memories like she manipulates everything Shannon does. Or block them completely.”

  “Perhaps we should talk to her now,” Ralph says. “Melanie, can you get her down here?”

  “It might take some time.”

  “We’ll wait.”

  Melanie heads for Shannon’s bedroom. Grace and I go for a walk—we both need to get out of that house. I hold her hand as we stroll through a rambling wildflower garden. The air is cool and sweet and the pool and grounds quiet, peaceful. On the outside.

  “It’s like Paradise,” Grace’s comment comes out low, almost a whisper—as if she’s afraid of disturbing the stillness. “With a serpent sitting right in the middle.”

  “That about sums it up.” I glance at her. “Were you scared? When you went to see her?”

  She tilts her head and her eyes narrow almost to slits. “Not scared.”

  “What then?”

  “Just… sad. I felt…pity for her. She looked so pathe
tic. So lost.”

  “She is lost.”

  Grace’s phone buzzes in her pocket. She takes it out to see who’s calling.

  “Blocked number.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t—”

  But she’s already hit the accept button.

  “Hello? Oh…hi, Harry.” She shoots me a panicked look. “Yes, we’re here at the house. She’s not up yet—what? Tomorrow night? Uh, no, I don’t think she’ll be able to make it. You need to give her some time to… yes, I understand, but tell them she’s been ill and her doctor doesn’t want her to travel. Well, I know, but there’s no way… Harry… Maybe you should come here to be with her…” She pauses, listening, then sighs. “Okay, I’ll tell her.” She hits “end.” “What’s wrong with that guy? He’s totally clueless.”

  “He’s blind,” I say. We sit on a bench.

  “So, what sort of activity is going on in there?” She glances back at the house.

  “A lot.”

  “How many?”

  “I don’t know. Too many to count.”

  “So it’s like a party? A demon party?”

  “You could say that. Most have been here a really long time. Something bad happened in this house. The people left but the spirits stayed.”

  “Is that normal?”

  “It can be when there are no opposing spirits. They get comfortable and hang around.”

  “But we have opposing spirits?” I nod. “Thank God for that.” She puts her head on my shoulder. I pull her into me. “I wish, sometimes, that we could be normal people.”

  “You mean clueless like Harry?”

  “Yeah. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  It would.

  “What’ll happen to us, Jared?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, Bree asked me about the future. You know. Us. And I couldn’t imagine it. Right now is fine, and tomorrow will be fine, and next week, and next year, but what about after that? What happens then?”