The Exorcist's Apprentice

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The Exorcist's Apprentice Page 9

by Mark Lukens


  She looked at Danny as he entered, and she smiled at him with such a sweet smile that he couldn’t help smiling back.

  “Danny, you’re up. Did you get some sleep?”

  “A little,” he mumbled.

  “Come on, sit down.” She gestured at the small table in the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

  “Not really.”

  “How about a few cookies? I made some last night.” She didn’t wait for him to answer. She brought a plate of cookies over from the counter and set them down in front of Danny.

  Danny sat down at the table and picked up a cookie while Grandma Gail poured him a big glass of ice-cold milk and brought it to the table. He felt like he was on autopilot as he bit off small pieces of cookie and chewed them up without really tasting them.

  He looked at his grandmother as she stood next to the table. “I’m going to Boston to live with my dad?”

  Gail smiled, but this time it was a sympathetic smile. She pulled a chair out and sat down. Danny could hear her ragged breathing; she was winded from just the little bit of activity that she’d been doing.

  “You heard me and your father talking,” she said.

  “He’s not my father,” Danny blurted out before even thinking about it. “He’s hardly been around for the last few years.”

  “I know …”

  “I shouldn’t have to live with him if I don’t want to. I’m almost eighteen years old,” he added in case she might have forgotten.

  “Danny,” she said and her throaty voice was suddenly stern, her light eyes focused on him. “I need to tell you something and you need to listen to me.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “You may not like what I’m going to say. You may not even believe it.”

  Danny still didn’t say anything—he just waited.

  “The reason your father hasn’t been around is because your mother asked him not to be around. She even got a restraining order against him. He wasn’t allowed around you or Lisa unless he had your mother’s permission.”

  Danny was shocked. “But why? What’s wrong with him? I mean, obviously there’s something wrong with him if Mom had a restraining order against him. And now you want me to go to Boston with him?”

  “Danny,” she warned. “I’m not finished.”

  He was quiet, waiting for her to finish what she had to say. The cookies and milk were forgotten in front of him.

  “You have no idea what your father does for a living, do you?”

  “No. He doesn’t really talk too much about himself.”

  Gail nodded. “That figures. Your mother wanted it that way; she didn’t want you to know too much about what your father does.”

  “Why would she want it that way? What’s going on?”

  “I’m trying to explain that.”

  “What does he do for a living?”

  “He works for the Church. For many churches. He’s an Investigator.”

  “Investigator? Like what, a detective?”

  “Sort of. He investigates claims of supernatural phenomenon.”

  Danny was silent for a moment. Then he shook his head no like he didn’t understand. “Why wouldn’t my mom want us to know about that? Why would it be such a big deal?”

  “It’s complicated,” his grandmother answered. “Your father is a very … and your mother was …” Grandma Gail paused like what she had to say next was difficult and Danny was afraid she was going to start crying. But she took a deep and wheezy breath and got her bearings. “Your mother, I’m afraid, was not a very religious person.”

  Danny could attest to that. He and Lisa had never been forced to go to church or read the Bible even though his grandmother, and obviously his father, were believers.

  “I’m not saying she didn’t believe in God,” Grandma Gail continued quickly like she was defending her daughter, “but she didn’t like organized religion, and she wanted you and your sister to make up your own minds about your beliefs.”

  “That’s what I want to do,” Danny told her. “Make up my own mind. And I don’t want to go live with Paul. I have school here. My friends.” Danny thought of the school he hated, of the kids he couldn’t get along with. He thought of his only friend Pete who seemed to be avoiding him lately.

  “Danny, listen to me. These are the facts. I would love to take you in, but I’m too old and I don’t have the physical energy for it anymore. Your Uncle Martin and Aunt Sue are too busy with their family. But that’s not even the real reason. You belong with your father whether you want to believe that or not. You and he deserve at least a chance to get to know each other. Just try it out for a while. When you turn eighteen and graduate from high school, then it will be up to you. You can go wherever you want then.”

  Danny didn’t say anything—he just had a sinking feeling that his whole life was spiraling out of control, like he was trapped in a raging river and he had no way to stop himself. He felt like the last of his family, his grandmother, was kicking him out.

  “And I think you need to get away for a while,” Grandma Gail said. “Get away from your house, from this city, this state. There are going to be too many reminders here of what happened.”

  Danny’s mind flashed back to the night of the accident. He still couldn’t remember anything about it, but he still remembered the man at the side of the road, staring at him with his dead eyes and smiling at him with his twisted half-smile. He regretted not telling the police about that detail—his only real memory—but there were a few reasons for that. One was that he couldn’t be completely sure that he had seen the man on the side of the road, or if he had been a figment of his imagination. And two, if the man had really been there, then Danny couldn’t help feeling like the accident was somehow his fault.

  “Just think about what I’ve said,” Grandma Gail told Danny. “Your father is a good man. At least try to get to know him. I never totally agreed with what your mother did, keeping your father’s life a secret from you, and I wish I would have interjected. I didn’t want to interfere with her life. But I wish I had now.”

  Danny’s grandmother looked so sad. He had to keep reminding himself that not only had he lost a mother and a sister, but she had lost a daughter and a grandchild.

  “Don’t you want me around?” Danny finally asked. He felt childish and bratty even saying such a thing, and he immediately regretted it. He knew it was a low blow, a punch to his grandmother’s gut. It was a pathetic last resort and plea for her to let him stay.

  But she gave him a warm smile and reached out and caressed his cheek. “Of course I do. And I’ve treasured having you around so close to me all these years. But now it’s your father’s turn to be in your life. And your turn to be in his.”

  PAR† †WO

  CHAP†ER EIGH†EEN

  Danny sat in the airplane seat next to his father. They had stayed in Cleveland for nearly a week after the funeral. Danny packed some of his stuff in a storage unit that his grandmother had rented for him. Anything that wasn’t kept in storage or given away to other family members was donated to charity. Danny collected his most treasured memories in a shoebox which included his mom’s cell phone, an assortment of photos, a few greeting cards, a folded-up picture his sister had drawn, some jewelry. But he kept his mother’s necklace with his sister’s charm on it in his pocket.

  He had packed several boxes of his stuff that Paul (he still couldn’t quite call him Dad yet, and Paul seemed fine with that) had shipped off to Boston. Danny only brought along two large suitcases of clothes and a carry-on bag on the flight.

  Danny and Paul had made mostly small talk while they packed up his mother’s house. Uncle Martin and Aunt Sue had stayed an extra two days to help with the chore, but they kept complaining about how badly they needed to get back home and get back to work.

  Danny had tried to say goodbye to Pete, but again he wasn’t home. He left a message on Pete’s cell phone, letting him know about his mother and sister and that he was going to li
ve with his father for a while. He hung up the phone, knowing his only friend was no longer his friend. Besides his grandmother, he had nothing left in Cleveland anymore.

  His grandmother’s words kept echoing in his mind: You need to get out of town for a while. Get out of this state. You need to start over.

  And as much as he didn’t want to, Danny decided to look at this as an adventure, a strange journey that he was about to embark on.

  He had never flown on a plane before and it was exciting. The flight from Cleveland to Boston wasn’t that long and his father had booked first-class seats for them. Maybe his dad was rich.

  It was a nighttime flight and they were supposed to be in Boston at about ten p.m. Danny figured he should be tired as he sat on the plane, but he wasn’t. He didn’t say much to his father—Paul wasn’t much of a talker—so Danny just stared out the window at the darkness.

  “I’m going to use the bathroom,” Paul told him.

  Danny looked at him and nodded.

  No smile from his father, no pat on the head. Just a dark and stoic look. He got up without a sound and went down the aisle.

  Danny looked back out the window, but there wasn’t much to see except the darkness. He couldn’t even see the nighttime lights below because of the cloud cover.

  But then he saw a pale face materializing behind his own face in the reflection on the window’s glass. The pale face had that twisted half-smile, the same dead and dark eyes.

  Oh God … it’s him! He’s found me! He’s on the plane!

  Danny jumped and turned around in his seat. He saw a stewardess leaning over his father’s empty seat towards him. She was smiling, but she didn’t have the twisted half-smile he’d seen in the reflection in the window. And her eyes weren’t dark and dead, they were greenish-blue and cheerful.

  “Do you need anything, sweetie?” she asked.

  Danny just shook his head no. For a moment he couldn’t speak.

  “Something to drink?” she asked. “A Coke or Pepsi?”

  Danny just nodded, agreeing to whatever she said.

  “Okay, sweetie. Be right back.”

  Danny let out a breath that he felt like he’d been holding the whole time.

  †

  They landed in Boston on schedule. They got off the plane and had to wait thirty minutes to find their suitcases—Danny’s two suitcases and Paul’s one.

  Paul carried his own suitcase and Danny’s extra suitcase, the heavier one.

  They stepped out into the chilly night air and walked to the parking area where Paul had left his Ford Bronco.

  These last few days had been strange for Paul. He was dealing with the ache of loss for his daughter and ex-wife, yet he was treasuring this time he spent with his son.

  His son seemed okay about everything so far. Paul had expected a big fight with him about coming to Boston, but Danny had been fine with it. Paul talked to Gail before they left, and she told him that she had already talked to Danny about going to live with him. She also hadn’t told Danny everything about Paul’s life—that part was up to Paul.

  And Paul loved Gail for that.

  How much should he tell Danny? Paul wondered.

  Everything.

  But when?

  It would take time. He and his son had made a lot of small talk, more than they ever had on the phone or through e-mails.

  Paul had found out some of his son’s interests, including his passion for basketball. But Danny told him that he was too nervous to try out for the high school team. He learned that Danny didn’t have a girlfriend at the moment, and he only had one person he called a friend, a boy named Pete, even though apparently Pete was turning into a snob lately.

  They’d lost themselves in the work of packing the house up and Paul let Danny take his time with his own room.

  Even though things had gone relatively smoothly, Paul knew that it was going to take some time for Danny to work through his grief. Paul had been with many grieving families over the years. And he was grieving himself for his own daughter, and his ex-wife who he had never hated, who he had never stopped loving. And when she didn’t want him to be a part of his children’s lives, he didn’t hate her for it, he respected her decision after he followed his true calling to God. She accused Paul of making a choice between religion and his family. But it was more than that, deeper than that. He wanted both, but he couldn’t turn his back on God and his calling and the talents and skills he had been blessed with to help people.

  You mean helping people like Richard and Julia? his mind whispered. Like Father O’Leary? Father James?

  He pushed the voice away.

  But these demonic attacks had been stronger than he had ever experienced before. And then the demons went after his family, they killed his daughter and tried to kill his son. And Paul knew they weren’t done yet. No, this was far from over.

  And his only responsibility now was protecting his son, because he knew they would come for him again.

  “Cool ride,” Danny said, breaking Paul’s train of thought as they walked towards his truck.

  “Thanks,” Paul muttered. “It’s a 1978 Ford Bronco. It’s old, but still in great shape.”

  They got inside the truck and Paul started it up. The engine roared to life, rumbling with power as it idled in the parking lot.

  “It’s got a 302 under the hood,” Paul said just to say something. He felt a little nervous and a little foolish—he wasn’t good at small talk. “That’s an eight cylinder engine,” Paul explained.

  “Not good on gas?” Danny guessed.

  “Not the greatest,” Paul answered and gave him a smile.

  Paul put the truck in gear and they headed home.

  †

  They didn’t talk much on the drive to his father’s house which was in a crowded neighborhood of Boston. The neighborhood reminded Danny a little of Cleveland, but with more hills and trees. The streets seemed a little narrower and winding, the houses huddled a little closer together.

  They parked in the driveway. It was late and his father’s truck sounded loud in the dark. He wondered off-handedly if neighbors ever complained. But then again Paul looked like a guy you wouldn’t mess around with. He had seen his dad’s bulging muscles and intricate tattoo work when they were packing up the house and Paul had stripped down to a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He remembered that his dad was muscular and strong, but for some reason Danny hadn’t remembered all the tattoos his dad had. He thought about asking his dad about his tats, but decided to wait for another time.

  They got their bags and suitcases out of the truck and brought them to the front porch. The house looked small and squeezed in close to the other houses on each side of it. There was only a small strip of grass on each side of Paul’s house.

  The house was two stories, but the second story was only built over the house and not the garage. It was a neat and clean house and looked like it had been repainted recently. The small square of front lawn was mowed and trimmed. A line of small shrubs stood in a line in front of the porch railing. There were no garden gnomes, no signs proclaiming this as home-sweet-home, and no real décor of any kind on the front porch, not even plants in pots. Nothing but a generic doormat that had WELCOME printed on it.

  Inside, the house was just as neat and minimal as the outside. Paul hung his coat on the old-fashioned coat rack next to the closet door. And Danny hung his coat next to his father’s after setting his suitcases down.

  Danny looked around the small, cozy living room. He saw a couch, a recliner, a coffee table, an end table. All of the furniture was hard and tan and neutral. Both tables were clear of any knickknacks and only a few religious paintings and icons hung on the walls. The floor was wood planking and shiny with polyurethane.

  As he looked around, Danny did not notice a TV anywhere.

  “No TV?”

  “No. Sorry. I’ve got a radio.”

  “How do you have no TV?”

  “I do
n’t watch much TV,” Paul said and shrugged. “But I can get one if you like,” he added quickly. “And cable service. Whatever we need.”

  Danny didn’t answer, but he would like a TV in his bedroom. “Yeah,” he muttered.

  “We’ll work on it tomorrow,” Paul promised.

  There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then Paul exploded into nervous action. “Over here’s the kitchen.”

  Danny followed his dad into the neat and spacious kitchen. The countertops were clean and nearly bare—there were only four canisters, a toaster, and a coffee maker on them.

  “That door over there leads out to the garage,” Paul told Danny. “Some storage out there. A small woodshop. And I’ve got gym equipment and some weights. You’re welcome to use the weights and machines if you want to.”

  Danny nodded. He didn’t think he’d really be interested in a woodshop, but he had gotten into weightlifting in school recently and he wouldn’t mind sticking with it.

  “I don’t have a lot of food in the house right now,” Paul continued. But we can go to the grocery store tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  “I got an extra room for you upstairs.”

  Danny followed Paul back out to the living room to grab his suitcases. He followed his father up the creaking steps to the second floor where there was one bathroom and three small bedrooms.

  Paul showed Danny his own bedroom with its neatly-made bed and a dresser that was covered with framed photographs. He showed Danny his cramped office.

  “What’s all that?” Danny asked, pointing at the corkboards on the walls with the newspaper articles and internet printouts covering them, along with handwritten notes stuck everywhere in between.

  “My work,” Paul said and left it at that.

  Danny left it alone, too. “I see you at least have a computer. An old one.”

  Paul nodded.

  “Wi-Fi?”

  Paul shook his head no.

  “We could get Wi-Fi with the cable so I can use my I-Pad and laptop,” Danny suggested.

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  Paul showed Danny the guest bedroom which was even more plain and neutral than the rest of the house. Danny set his suitcases down next to the bed.

 

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