The Storyteller of Pain

by Loren Molloy

Lilian just froze for a moment. She had a horrible suspicion she was not going to like where this was going?

  “Abagail sweetheart, who told you that?”

  Abagail’s answer was a whimper.

  “Did someone in this room tell you that?”

  Abagail’s doll nodded ‘Yes’ many times in Lilian’s face, while Abagail herself stared at the wall. Lilian had become very used to her dolly answering for Abagail.

  “Can you tell me please, Mr. Mumbles?” asked Lilian patiently.

  Mr. Mumbles nodded once again.

  “Who told Abagail bad kids get timeouts?”

  Abagail held up Mr. Mumbles blocking Lilian’s view of Abagail’s face, and said in a scratchy lower octave voice, “The new one did.”

  Lilian felt the ice water running through her veins again. Delia DelaCour! There was only one new person in this room and twenty minutes ago that woman’s eyes were pure evil; now they were back to their crystal blue. Lilian knew she was mad at Abagail for her mimicry before she started daydreaming. Now she was positive Delia was punishing Abagail.

  The major problem was now two fold. One, Lilian herself didn’t see any of it occur. She was in the room the whole time yet saw nothing because of her stupid daydreaming. Two, how did Delia tell Abagail that ‘bad kids get timeouts’ if she supposedly was only able to repeat the same monologue? None of this matches any psychiatric illness she had ever heard of. None that she could think of anyway. Besides if she tried to explain what Delia had done, she would have to admit to her daydreaming. She certainly couldn’t. Especially since she was not having a successful day already and she really needed to keep this job.

  “The new one told you to go sit in the corner?”

  “Bad kids get punished! Go sit in the corner until you’re told otherwise,” said Mr. Mumbles with fear in even his faked voice.

  “Thank you for telling me. Now come on Mr. Mumbles, tell Abagail she can go back to her seat and we can continue.”

  Mr. Mumbles shook his stuffed head hard and violently. “No. Too scared! Can’t go back!”

  “Everything’s alright now. We can go back. Be good and listen to me now and come back to your chair.”

  Hesitantly Abagail got up, wiped her tear- dripped face with Mr. Mumbles body and went slowly back to her chair. Abagail stopped before sitting down just staring at Delia. She seemed to be waiting for permission from her. When Delia didn’t react at all, she sat.

  Lilian sat back down as well, opened her notepad once again and said, “So let’s continue...,” when the door opened and Nurse Kingston came in.

  “Whenever you’re ready Doc, I’ll take them back.”

  “Thank you Nurse Kingston.”

  Turning back to her group without missing a beat she said, “We’ll continue from where we left off next session.”

  Lilian got up as if nothing had happened and walked slowly and calmly towards Nurse Kingston. She was a large, bulky woman. There, silhouetted in the doorway, Nurse Kingston looked like a cruel trick of nature was played on her. It was as if she was supposed to be a huge linebacker and, only at the last second, changed gender.

  In the dull, pale yellow lighting, you could see she had an immense amount of facial hair that was just shy of a full beard and a unibrow that truly looked as if one huge, gross, black caterpillar was hibernating across her brow. Lilian suddenly felt fragile, weak, and tiny in this woman’s presence.

  “Something the matter Doc? You look shook to the bone or something.”

  “I was just thinking. It’s a good thing you like me otherwise you could crush me like a bug. I am very glad you’re on my side in this place!” She smiled gently and thought, Quick Save, Lily!

  Kingston boomed with laughter and slapped Lilian on the shoulder, so hard, in pure mirth, she actually caused Dr. SinClair to fall forward slightly causing the two of them to be even closer in proximity. Lilian could smell the cigarette smoke and body odor waffing off Nurse Kingston, making her gag slightly. The hospital never smelled particularly fresh but the nauseating mixture combined with the jarring slap on the shoulder was almost too much to bear, forcing her to swallow back her own bile with a hard gulp.

  “Yeah, you’re right there Doc! But then again, the wind could throw you around, you’re so thin. You have a good day now, Doc!” Nurse Kingston stepped aside and let Lilian through the doorway.

  Hours later, in her office, Lilian was sitting at her impressive, solid mahogany desk. There were Medical and Psychiatry books precariously piled on top of each other on the desk. A pencil was sticking out of her bun which was completely disheveled but Lilian didn’t seem to notice. Her desk lamp was the only light illuminating the room and her face was stuck in a book when she heard a knock. Completely consumed by what she was reading she hollered, “Enter,” and then went right back into what she was reading until she hear a loud cough.

  “Yes?” she said in pure frustration caused by being stopped in her reading.

  “Saw your light was on and thought I’d make sure all is well.”

  It was John Barkley again. Lilian could only imagine how she must look right now. She was mortified to see him again after her last encounter. He’s the night watchman! What did you think would happen? Her subconscious said snidely. Unfortunately she was right. No avoiding him. Just got to deal with this the right way this time.

  When she didn’t answer him John could see she looked flustered by seeing him but she also looked scared and completely perplexed. In the few years he worked here, her desk had never looked like this. Not to mention her appearance. Oh, she was still beautiful; nothing could change that, but she looked frazzled. Her hair a mess. Her outfit all wrinkled. It just wasn’t right.

  Something was terribly wrong with her. He felt it in his gut. It never steered him wrong when he was on the force. He was the one who warned his captain about ’Mr. Lone Ranger’s’ attitude. No one wants their captain to apologize to you for not listening, especially when you’re lying in a hospital bed because no one wanted to believe you then. This time when he felt the sickening warning, he wasn’t going to stay quiet.

  “What’s wrong Dr. SinClair? And before you say, ‘Nothing’ or ‘I’m fine’ stop for a moment and listen to me. I can see you’re not ok. I see you’re worried and extremely frustrated. I can see it’s because of a patient and I can see this case, whatever it is, is eating you up alive. I’ve seen this look before.

  Cases are like puzzles but when the pieces don’t fit it can drive even the sanest of us a bit crazy. Yes, I’m sure it’s above my paygrade Dr. SinClair but I don’t mind a little volunteer work. Even if all I do is listen, it might help you. I’m guessing you don’t have many close friends you could talk to about something like this and I’m willing to listen. All I’m saying is, if you don’t talk to someone about it soon, I’m afraid we’ll lose you all together.”

  He just stared at her and waited for however she was going to react. He waited for her to scream at him. He waited for her to curse him out. What he didn’t expect was for her to burst into hysterical tears.

  Luckily, being on the force caused John to be able to handle crying women. Most men freak out or shut down when a woman starts to cry, but as a cop he often had to tell bad news to people’s family members and loved ones. He learned how to handle his reactions and how to handle all the various ways people deal with bad news.

  John walked over to the now sobbing Dr. SinClair and handed her his linen handkerchief, out of his backpocket with a gentle smile. ’At least we’re getting somewhere’, John thought. ’Making progress to coin an old phrase.’

  Lilian took it and covered her face in her hands still crying. Slowly and cautiously John touched her shoulder in comfort. That was all it took for Lilian to bury her face in his broad chest, still crying. John wrapped his arms around her and said gently, “I’m here. Everything is ok. Everything’s ok now.”

  After a few minutes of this, she calmed down. When he felt she was done he said, “There now, wh
y don’t you tell me all about what’s bothering you Lily and maybe I can help somehow.”

  Looking up at his handsome face she sniffled and smiled. “I’m sorry. I got your shirt wet.” She chuckled and blotted her face with his handkerchief.

  “I don’t mind at all. It’s an honor and a privilege to be ‘cried on’ by you, Lily.” He chuckled and sweetly smiled at her.

  Lilian sniffled again and took a step away from him and sat back down in her chair. She was exhausted from crying. She couldn’t believe she just did that. John sat on the edge of her desk, pushing a few books out of his way gently with his hip.

  “Why do I suddenly feel like you’re my shrink?” she laughed and sighed.

  “John Barkley, Volunteer Shrink at your service, ma’ lady!” saluting as he said it. He laughed wholeheartedly. It brightened his whole face and her mood.

  She smiled. “Ok John Barkley, Volunteer Shrink, let’s see how you do!”

  John pretended to tip a top hat in her direction.

  For a moment Lily didn’t know what to do. It breaches patient confidentiality to tell the nightguard what’s going on with a patient but he was right. Not having someone to brainstorm with and bounce ideas off of was no good for her in this instant. She needed to talk with someone and why not a retired cop.

  Finally she explained everything from the moment Lily met Mrs. DelaCour to present moment. She told him everything from how she acted so out of character toward Nurse Pergru to Dr. Rushfeld’s discussion this morning. Only thing she excluded was her dream about John, himself. There was no way she was explaining that one. She even told him she thought Delia might be actually possessed and evil. John never laughed at her or mocked her. He didn’t call her crazy or tell her not to dig. He listened and nodded appropriately. She could see he was truly digesting everything she had to say with an open mind.

  Finally when she was all done she said,

  “In conclusion I can’t find a medical or psychological explanation in any of my books. I don’t know what to do considering I’m not supposed to dig but I can’t just ignore all I’m seeing either. Something happened in that group session John! I’ve never dazed out like that before. I have gotten a lot less sleep and still I’ve never done such a thing before.

  While I was in daydream land, Delia somehow got Abagail to punish herself. She knew what buttons to push. That is also all I know about what happened! Obviously, I have no idea what was going on around me while I was daydreaming! I could have been killed while I was just sitting there in LaLa Land.”

  Lilian flopped back into her chair and threw her arms up in the air to accent her disgust.

  John crossed his muscular arms across his slightly damp broad chest and frown at her.

  “See I knew it! You do think I’m crazy!” Lily said defensively.

  “Now Lily, I didn’t say anything of the kind. Nah, I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re stuck right smack in between Mount Everest and Hell right now. Some people, it would be stuck between a rock and a hard place but you, nah. You got yourself wedged so tightly between Mt. Everest and Hell you probably can’t decide if you should wear a swimsuit or thermal underwear. I was frowning because of your predicament not because I think you’re crazy, Sugarplum. Honest!

  Your boss basically tells you, ‘Don’t dig and don’t bother curing her’ but then she is smack dab under your nose in group therapy. What kind of sense does that make? We’ve got over 2,000 patients in this hospital and there’s got to be about close 900 female patients in this hospital. So why choose Delia DelaCour to put into your group therapy session.

  You run two group therapy sessions a day, one male, one female. Each session holds 8-15 patients. So you see about sixty women a week, approximately, out of almost 900. So why, if your boss didn’t want you to dig, did he put her in one of your group sessions? If it was him who did so.

  To be honest, when you described Delia’s eyes in the group session before you began daydreaming, it brought to mind a particular case of mine that I had on my second year on the force in New Orleans. I will never forget that case or that man. It was Fat Tuesday. Everyone was in full Mardi Gras swing. The streets were flooded with people and music. Tourists from all over came to experience Mardi Gras and get wasted on one thing or another. Mardi Gras is always hell for the police.

  A call came in about a shop on Royal Street. Supposedly a tourist walked into the back room and a tall, dark, thin man was yelling mumbo-gumbo. Then he sliced a goat’s throat over a lady who was lying down on the cement floor under the goat, below the dark man. The tourist began screaming when the goat sprayed its blood all over the poor lady, the man, and on the floor. The dark man turned with the blood dripping machete in hand and looked at her in surprise. His eyes, she said, were just dark pools of evil. She ran as fast and far as possible before calling the police.

  The only description she was able to recall was a very tall, thin man with dark pools of evil for eyes. She was positive the Devil was trying to take over the world from that back room. It was obvious she was very drunk and very scared. They sent me, the Rookie, to check it out.

  During Mardi Gras, we got hundreds of calls from drunk and usually doped up tourists, some prank calls, others were from people who took something they weren’t used to and hallucinated. It was very common to arrive at the scene of the incident and find the person who called completely wasted and tripping on something. We would have to quickly get them to a hospital. I remember laughingly telling the officers, ‘I’ll be back. I just have to go arrest the Devil!’

  We all got a great chuckle out of that one. I won’t say the guy was the Devil. He was known for practicing Hoodoo which is a type of spiritual practice. By the time I got to the shop; the back room was spotless. It was obvious it was used for his practice and was his sacred space but there was a feeling I got from him. His name was Mr. Oblivion. I swear on my momma’s grave that’s what people called him. I never met the man before just always heard that they said he could control the living and the dead and if you displeased him, he cursed you into Oblivion!

  Yeah, I thought the whole thing was complete hogwash. I thought it was one of those things said to lure tourists into the shop. You have to understand Lily, in New Orleans, Hoodoo is common. It’s different than Voodoo. It seems to me, only people who grew up in Louisiana truly understand the difference.

  Neither is intrinsically evil. That’s another major misunderstanding. I’ve seen many a Hoodoo Priest, or Root Doctor as they call themselves sometimes, and none of them were evil. They’d help people with their love lives or money troubles. They aren’t evil. None of them were.

  This man....he was! I knew it the moment I stepped into that back room of his with him. A chill ran up my spine and all those little hairs on the back of my neck, they all stood at attention. I instantly got this cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. My heart felt like it was damn near gonna burst out of my chest, it was pounding so hard. He didn’t say anything and he didn’t have to! It was the feeling I got, and the way I felt, all I could think was Shoot Him! Shoot him and I’ll be safe!

  No...I didn’t shoot him nor did I let on how I felt. I swallowed my fear and told him, ’Stupid tourists can’t handle their alcohol and they get out of control.’ I was sorry to bother him. I wished him a pleasant day and walked as calmly as I could out of there. Oh boy, was I sorry I bothered him. Thank goodness I was able to get out of there alive and in one piece. ”

  John went quiet.

  “Well what happened?” Lilian anxiously questioned him.

  “Honestly, I had no proof he did anything wrong. He, and the back room, looked clean and respectable. So I had nothing to go on except the feeling I got from him and that room. No one would arrest a guy on a gut feeling. All I could think was if I said anything about this guy to any of the other officers and brought more attention to Mr. Oblivion, he would make me pay. So I never said anything.

  When I was asked, I told the truth, that when I got
there I saw no evidence of blood, lady or goat. I told them stupid tourists think it’s so funny wasting the police’s time. They all nodded in agreement and we moved on. About a year later. there was a string of savage murders. Hearts cut out. Throats slit wide open. Organs missing. Extreme stuff. One woman had her hair, fingernails, and tongue removed, all premortem. It wound up all leading to Mr. Oblivion.

  He went from a powerful, respected Root Worker to something I can only describe as pure evil. The case went to the Homicide division and I was still only a lowly foot patrolmen. I never said anything about my encounter with him to the Detectives. I knew they would never believe me and I would become a laughing stock forever. We lost several good men because of Mr. Oblivion.

  Sometimes I think I should have just shot him when I had the chance. I imagine how many lives I would have saved. I can’t imagine the horrors that team must have seen and dealt with. The team shot him 47 times. His head was just a pile of mush, blood, and bits of bone by the time they were done shooting him. Whatever that bastard did, those officers weren’t taking any chances that he would live. And I don’t blame them one bit!”

  John shuttered at the thought and then said,

  “The officers that made it back alive looked haunted, shaken, and truly terrified. When asked what happened they said, ’The Devil of Louisiana tried to suck out our souls and crush our bones. We’re lucky to be alive!’ One man killed himself that very night. The note said he couldn’t continue to live another moment, haunted by the evils of that day. I am alive and sane because I didn’t tango with whatever evil had ahold of Mr. Oblivion. So no Sugarplum, I don’t think you’re crazy and if you think an evil got ahold of that woman, I believe you!”

  John looked solemn and sincere. He also looked very worried.

  “Lily, if something evil is possessing this woman as you believe, maybe it’s best you don’t dig. If only to save your own soul and your own sanity. If your boss said don’t dig, maybe he also knows there’s an evil inside her and is trying to protect you.

  I mean I can’t imagine this hospital turning away good money nor can I see anyone saying ‘No’ to powerful rich families. I also can’t imagine your boss would tell them, ’Sorry, no... That woman is possessed by evil, she can’t be here.’ So maybe he’s trying to protect you best he can, so that the evil thing he must keep on this property cannot inflict evil, horrific things upon you. Kitten... you’re no priest. You don’t have training in exorcisms do you? Do you have any idea how to exorcise an evil entity?”