Forgiven

by Gina Detwiler

  I text Bree with an update, but she doesn’t respond right away. So I open the Twitter app and scroll through the news feed.

  “Hey, there are a bunch of tweets about Darwin Speer. He’s disappeared from social media. No one knows where he is. Rumor has it he’s gone back to Switzerland for a sex change operation or something.”

  “Let’s hope not.”

  “There’s a picture posted of his yacht.”

  “We aren’t in it, are we?”

  “No. Speer’s not either. That woman is though. Morticia.”

  “I thought her name was Lucille.”

  “Whatever. She’s cruising around the Mediterranean, and claims Speer is fine—that he’s taking a much-needed vacation.” I put the phone down. “Why does that worry me?”

  “That Speer is taking a vacation?”

  “Yeah. I mean, he didn’t seem like the kind of person who takes vacations.”

  “Maybe he found someone to treat his daughter.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Why is there no mention anywhere of him having a daughter?”

  “He likes to keep his private life private.”

  “That bothers me.”

  “What does?”

  “People who keep secrets.”

  “You mean, like us?”

  “Exactly.”

  ***

  I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, Jared is calling my name. I rouse, still on the lounge chair, to see the sun already dipping behind the bay. The air has turned much cooler and a stiff breeze has kicked up. I shiver.

  “What time is it?”

  “About four.”

  “Wow.” We dump our plates in the kitchen sink and head to the sunroom where Ralph leads us in prayer and scripture reading. Then Silas goes to get Shannon. Dr. Lewis reappears looking composed and takes her usual seat with her notebook like a lecture is about to begin. Melanie stays in the doorway, peering out anxiously, awaiting Shannon’s return.

  “I want you to remain calm, no matter what happens,” Ralph tells us. “I remind you again that if Lilith or any other entity tries to speak to any one of you, do not respond. You may experience a great deal of confusion. That’s normal. These spirits seek to rule by invoking chaos. Do not engage them. Do not speak to them. That is paramount.”

  I glance at Dr. Lewis, who is writing in her notepad, avoiding eye contact with any of us. What is she writing? How crazy she thinks we all are? Melanie clears her throat several times and drums her fingers against the doorjamb. Jared leans against the glass wall with his arms folded. His body is relaxed and rigid at the same time—he’s on full alert but trying not to show it.

  Silas finally arrives with Shannon on his arm. She leans on him like a lover. He settles her on the chaise lounge and gently ties her wrists again. She doesn’t resist. Her head flops to one side, her eyes half-closed.

  I start playing to distract myself from this little scene—one of my favorite old hymns.

  Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,

  calling for you and for me;

  see, on the portals He's waiting and watching,

  watching for you and for me.

  I play it at half speed, drawing out each note like a lullaby. Keep calm. Didn’t David use music to calm Saul’s demons? I hope for the same effect.

  “Shannon,” says Ralph in a commanding voice. She raises her head and looks at him blankly. “How are you feeling now?”

  “I want a cigarette.”

  “Not until we talk. Tell us about Grace.”

  “Grace?”

  “Your daughter.”

  A slow smile spreads across her face. “I didn’t name her Grace, you know. I named her Mallory. It’s French. It means Unfortunate.” She laughs. “Can you imagine if Helen Fortune had kept that name? Mallory Fortune! Mal Fortune.”

  Little Mis-Fortune.

  I stop singing. The words scream accusingly in my mind. My mother never wanted me, hated me from the moment she knew about me, and lured me back into her life only to destroy me.

  I was not meant to be born.

  This thought—while I know it is a lie—drives me to my feet. Why had I come? Why did I want to help this woman who wanted to kill me even before I was born? Jared is suddenly beside me, his hand on my shoulder, gently pressing me back to the piano bench. I look into his eyes and see love there—his love for me. A memory flashes of my adopted father, Henry Fortune, tucking me in one night and kissing my forehead. Whispering, “Love you, Pumpkin.” He called me that because of my hair. It’s the only memory I have of him.

  Shannon’s laughter breaks in. I don’t know what she’s laughing at—me or something in her own head.

  “But you asked Grace back into your life,” Ralph continues with the interview. “You wanted to adopt her.”

  “That was my publicist’s idea. I needed something to get back into the news. You’re nothing if you aren’t on BuzzFeed. No one cared about Katrina Kross anymore. But the studio still had to sell tickets.”

  “You used her.”

  “I used her, they used me. Everyone uses everyone. That’s how the game is played.”

  Jared puts his lips to my ear. “It’s all lies. Don’t pay attention.”

  That doesn’t make the words hurt any less.

  Ralph leans in close to Shannon, his eyes focused and unblinking.

  “Who am I speaking to?”

  She leans toward him, mocking his gesture. “Have you forgotten already? Maybe you’re the one who needs a shrink.”

  “I want to speak to Shannon.”

  “I am Shannon.”

  “You’re lying.”

  She laughs and throws herself backward against the chaise. Her eyes close, her body stiffens, and her back arches. Her head jerks from left to right and her gaze roves maniacally. She looks like a totally different person. Or, rather, not a person at all.

  “Go away!” Her voice is high and shrieking. “Leave us alone.”

  “Lilith? Is that you?”

  “Go away!”

  “No, Lilith, it is you who must go away,” Ralph says, louder now.

  “Ha. If I go, she goes with me. We go together.”

  “No, only you. In the name of Jesus, I order you to come out of this woman. Now.”

  I grip Jared’s leg. His arm tightens around me. This is happening too fast. I want it to stop.

  “Shut up! Shut up!” Shannon shrieks in Lilith’s voice.

  “Stop that,” Ralph orders. “You will not manifest, do you understand?”

  She goes still.

  “Now,” says Ralph in a calmer voice. “I want to speak to Shannon.”

  Her words come out in desperate pants, like she’s hyperventilating. “No. Leave me alone. You’re a fool. We hate you. We’ll kill you.”

  “Shannon…speak to me, Shannon. In the name of Jesus, speak.”

  Shannon’s body seems to collapse, her chest sinks, and the muscles in her face slacken.

  “What do you want?” Her voice is very weak.

  “You need to renounce Lilith and make her leave.”

  “She won’t go.”

  “She will if you command her in Jesus’ name.”

  “Jesus? Jesus? I don’t know Jesus.”

  “Shannon, do you want Lilith to leave?”

  “Yes. No. Yes. No.”

  “She’s trying to hurt you. She will destroy you. Is that what you want?”

  “No.”

  “Then tell her to leave in the name of Jesus.”

  Ralph says this over and over in a chanting rhythm.

  Shannon’s legs slam against the chaise lounge and her head pounds the headrest repeatedly.

  She lets out a blood-curdling scream.

  It goes on and on. Her face turns red, then purple. It pierces my brain and shoots down my spine like a sword or a bolt of lightning. If not for Jared’s arms around me, I would slide off the bench and fall catatonic to the floor. Never in my life have I heard such a sound.

/>   Dr. Lewis half stands, ready to intervene. Ralph holds up a hand. We wait, motionless, for Shannon to run out of breath. Finally, the scream dies away. Her head drops to her chest and she makes a rattling sound. Then she’s quiet, perfectly still.

  I pray it’s over.

  But it isn’t.

  Her back arches, her arms fly up and break the ties. One fist swings in a wide arc. Silas manages to dodge the blows, but Ralph is too slow. Her fist smashes into his face. He tips backward on his chair and falls against the window, holding his nose. Blood seeps through his fingers. Dr. Lewis jumps up and holds her clipboard like a shield. Silas tries to grab Shannon’s arms, but she slithers away from him to the floor.

  Jared pulls me away from the piano and shoves me behind him as Shannon scrambles over furniture and jumps on top of the piano like some rabid cat. Her eyes shine yellow as her gaze fixes on me. Silas grabs her leg, but she twists away and launches herself at me. Jared stops her in midair and throws her off. She sails into a low table and smashes it to pieces. I rush to her, thinking she’s hurt, but she springs up and comes at me again, her fingers curled like claws and her mouth yawning open, her teeth bared.

  Jared tackles her and pins her to the floor. She continues to fight and flail, screeching and spitting. If he wasn’t supernaturally strong, she’d be unstoppable. I start to sing. I cry, too, and my soul splinters with every one of my mother’s screams.

  As I sing, I begin to see what Jared saw. The bird-creature takes over Shannon’s face, screeching at me, the fingers elongated, bent into talons, desperately trying to free themselves. I sense Ariel’s presence falling on me like fresh snow. Suddenly, I’m not afraid anymore.

  I take a step toward my mother. “In the name of Jesus, I order you to leave!”

  Shannon responds with guttural screeches.

  “In the name of Jesus, I order you to leave my mother alone! Get out of her, you filthy, evil, rotten, disgusting demon. Get out!” I yell, over and over despite the horrible words she speaks, the spitting, the snarling, and the inhuman cries. I shout over her as strength returns to my limbs and my voice. Jared’s body radiates light that blinds Shannon, who shuts her eyes and cries out in agony.

  “In the name of Jesus, leave this woman alone!”

  Shannon’s screams dissolve into whimpers. The bird image fades. I repeat the words in a continued litany, softly now and gently, like a lullaby. Her mouth goes slack, her body limp under Jared’s grip.

  No one moves for a long time. All I hear is my heartbeat—and Jared’s, beating as loudly as my own.

  “Let her go,” I tell him. He hesitates, uncertain. But then he does as I ask. Shannon doesn’t move. For a moment I fear she might be dead. Did I kill her? Did Lilith?

  Silas kneels beside her and brushes the hair from her face. He lifts her wrist and feels for a pulse, then he glances at me and nods. Wordlessly, he picks her up and carries her from the room.

  I collapse to the floor, exhausted, emptied, and sad, as if something irretrievable has been lost.

  “What in the world…” Dr. Lewis speaks from the corner of the room, her notebook clutched to her chest. She stares at Jared, who still glows, although not as brightly as before.

  “He has a condition,” I say. And then I start to laugh. I can’t stop. Dr. Lewis practically runs out of the room.

  I look at Jared. “Is it gone?”

  He nods slowly.

  “It’s gone.”

  16: Don’t Dream It’s Over

  Jared

  Ralph resets his nose himself, much to Dr. Lewis’ horror. I help him, using bandages from Melanie’s first aid kit.

  “I shouldn’t have let things get out of hand.” He straightens his glasses and rests them gently on his swelling nose. “Rookie mistake. After all my preaching about staying calm.”

  “You know these demons are unpredictable,” I say. “Especially ones as old and deep as Lilith. But…Grace did well.”

  “Grace was magnificent. She is more than a match, for the demons and her mother.”

  Once Ralph is bandaged, I return to the sunroom where Grace has stayed, seated at the piano, idly playing random notes. I sit beside her.

  “Is Ralph okay?” she asks.

  “Yeah. He has a broken nose, that’s all.”

  “Silas?”

  “He’s fine. He’s keeping an eye on her.”

  She nods and releases a breath.

  “You did it,” I say. “It’s over.”

  “Her face, Jared. I can’t get it out of my mind. It was like that time—”

  “In the Abyss,” I say. “It’s what you saw in me.”

  She nods. “Not the same face, but similar. Inhuman. Pure…evil. She came at me the way you did. What is it about me that makes these…things…want to kill me?” She looks at me and her eyes spill tears that streak her cheeks. I touch her face and wipe them away.

  “It’s the good in you,” I say. “The power in you. You’re a threat. But you saw today, didn’t you? They have no real power over you. You defeated me. You defeated Lilith. You’re stronger. God’s bigger. I’m thankful for that. It’s what keeps me going and gives me hope.”

  “Hope?”

  “That if it ever happens again…you will live.”

  I gather her into my arms, her face pressed to my chest, and her heart beats next to mine.

  “I love you, Jared. And what happened in the Abyss…it’ll never happen again. Never.”

  I want to believe her. More than anything.

  We eat a quiet dinner of leftover paella—Carla is too upset to cook—and go to bed early. Ralph is in pain and Grace is beyond exhausted. I hope she will sleep. I won’t even try. The spirits are too alive and now Lilith is among them, perhaps, looking for a way back in. It won’t find one. Silas sits at Shannon’s bedside, praying over her. He will stay up all night, protecting her—Lily, his first and only love.

  In those long, dark hours, I do nothing but mull over the events of the day before. I can’t shake the notion that we missed something. But there’s so much spiritual activity around us, I can’t distinguish them all. We need more time. We’d need to do this a dozen more times to get them all. But we won’t. We have to get out of this house as soon as possible.

  Morning comes with a weak sun struggling to break through a gray sheaf of clouds. The first cloudy day I’ve seen in this place. I climb the stairs to see Silas coming out of the Shannon’s room. His eyes are red-rimmed from lack of sleep.

  “How was your night?” I ask.

  “Peaceful. She didn’t wake up. She slept through the night. From all we’ve heard, it might’ve been the first time in years.” He yawns.

  “That’s a good sign.”

  “Yeah. How’s Grace?”

  “I hope she slept too.”

  “She’s tougher than she seems.” He rubs his face. “Thank you for…looking out for her. I couldn’t—”

  “No problem,” I say. “I’m glad to be able to help you for once.” Silas got me through that awful time with Crow. He had been my guardian angel. I owed him a great deal. “You still have… feelings for Shannon, don’t you?”

  He laughs a little. “Usually when you meet an old lover, you wonder what made you ever love them,” he says. “When I saw her, all I could remember was how much I had loved her. Isn’t that crazy?”

  “You know she’s not that girl anymore. Maybe she never was.”

  “I know. But still. Nothing is impossible with God, right?”

  ***

  I return to the bedroom to take a shower and then head to the kitchen. Dr. Lewis is already there, talking to Ralph. Despite his bandaged nose and blooming black eye, reminders of yesterday’s events, he and the doctor chat pleasantly and share notes.

  “Jared!” Ralph’s voice is nasally. “Good morning! Muriel and I were talking about you!”

  Muriel? “Morning.” I acknowledge Dr. Lewis before heading to the coffee pot.

  “When I mentioned your name to
my daughter, she was quite ecstatic,” she says with a laugh. “I had no idea you were so famous. She begged me to get your autograph. Do you mind?” She holds out her notebook.

  “Uh, sure.” I scribble my name. “Is no one else up yet?”

  “Apparently not,” Ralph replies.

  “How was Shannon’s night?” Dr. Lewis asks.

  “She slept through. Silas stayed with her.”

  “Ah. Good. Very good.”

  I sit at the counter and listen to them converse. Dr. Lewis asks many questions and writes often in her notebook. She’s clearly intrigued, whether she believes in the whole demon thing or not.

  “Have you seen this kind of possession before?” she asks Ralph.

  “Every situation is unique. But this is probably the closest to perfect I’ve seen.”

  “Perfect?”

  “When exorcists speak of a person being perfectly possessed, it means the demon has achieved total control. In such cases, the person is considered without hope. But in Shannon’s case, she—and Lily—were still able to assert themselves. I’m thankful we were here in time.”

  “So you’re saying a person who is perfectly possessed is purely evil?”

  “Perfectly controlled by an evil spirit.”

  “And such a condition is irreversible?”

  “Well, nothing is impossible, but for the most part, yes. The demon spirit and the human spirit have become one.”

  “You know, many in my profession would say that such people are simply psychopaths.”

  “There are overlaps, which makes diagnosis all the more difficult,” Ralph says. “Like two diseases that have virtually the same symptoms. Sometimes, it is a process of elimination. Most psychopaths, for instance, are non-violent. Violence is often an indicator. Psychopaths lack empathy, which make them prime targets for demonization. The more narcissistic a person is, the more easily they can be manipulated. Demonized people usually have certain things in common—voices speaking to them, for instance, nightmares, self-harming. Things that probably wouldn’t affect a true psychopath. So you see, it is never simply one thing but rather a series of things.”

  Melanie comes into the kitchen, freshly showered and wearing a heavy coat of makeup. “She’s up,” she announces. “Silas is with her. I peeked in the door but didn’t want to interrupt. They were…talking. Shannon seemed calm.”