The Resurrectionist

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The Resurrectionist Page 4

by Michael Gesellchen


  "In The Wilderness," he said.

  "What?" I turned just before stepping out his door. Dr. Z. motioned to the painting on his wall.

  "The name of painting," he nodded. "It's symbolic of the people that come through my office. They tell me they can relate, that it's therapeutic."

  The painting was a picture of Jesus sitting alone on a rock, his head buried in his arms, the weight of the world on his shoulders. I studied it for a second. "They let you hang it? I mean, being in school and all. The Puritans lost control of the school board several years ago after the state stepped in."

  “I know. Administration has asked me to take it down six times now.” Dr. Z. gazed at the painting, never removing his eyes from it. There was no way it was coming down. I turned and left his office.

  Why was Dr. Z. so concerned that my anxiety was driven by some hidden repressed anger? The only anger I had was directed towards my disorders. They make me different, like there is something wrong with me, like I am a bad person.

  “Hey Will," I heard someone say just after my face planted itself into a building support post. “Watch out for those posts. They come at you so quick.” I looked down, pretending to hide. Heat filled every blood vessel in my face. Just keep walking and get out of here. Having my embarrassment exposed was far more devastating than actually running into the post. Thankfully it was Friday. This will all be forgotten by Monday. I just needed to get to my next class and hide in the back row.

  Chapter 4

  It was an hour drive to the house outside of town where the group was to conduct their investigation. We piled into Corbin’s van and took off late on a Saturday morning. My nervous system was a mixture of excitement and uneasiness, and not for the reasons you'd expect. The possibility of seeing a ghost didn’t scare me. Getting to know Monika did. I might even have to open up, let her inside, see the real me. The thought sent panic rushing up my spine. I tried to act cool, to deny my obsession with her mystery and intrigue, but the red blotches on my neck told the truth.

  “Is everyone pumped?” Justin was the first to break the silence.

  “I feel good about this one,” Monika replied. I sat next to her which was wasn’t as good as sitting in front of her, but better than sitting behind her. If I was in front of her she wouldn’t be able to see me blush. If I sat behind her I was a goner each time she turned around.

  “So Monika, you'll need to begin preparations as soon as we get there? I don't mean to rush you but I think it's best if we get right to it." Justin said.

  “I just hope my skills are good enough. Making contact is always difficult in new and unfamiliar settings. I’m sure it'll be distracting for the spirits too. Having to work with an unfamiliar medium isn’t easy." Monika said.

  “When did you first learn about your abilities?” Justin inquired. "I feel kind of dumb but I’ve never asked you before."

  “I’ve just always kind of known. Spirits have been coming to communicate with me before I learned to talk. I guess they are eager to communicate with us. I realized I was a vessel for this communication at a very young age.” Monika wore low cut jeans and a tight beige shirt with just enough skin to reveal a half hidden belly piercing and a tattoo of a dove just above her waistline.

  "First rodeo Will?" A voice came from the driver’s seat.

  Silence filled the van. The conversation was lost until Justin saved me. He was his usual good-humored self. Cracking jokes and lightening the mood were his strong points.

  "Why do you ask, Corbin?" Justin said.

  "He ain't said more than two damn words," Corbin chuckled. I shrugged, remaining silent. "It's ok man. The rules are simple. Just don't let the bogeyman in." Corbin was the only one who laughed. "Oh come on. Lighten up. I'm just having some fun. Don't you people know you always have to raz the new guy. It's called initiation."

  "Didn't I already do that?" I forced the words out of my mouth as a slight tension moved up my neck.

  "Yeah Corbin," Justin said. "Lay off." I could see the back of Corbin's head nodding in disapprovement. He didn’t speak the rest of the trip.

  We stopped for gas and snacks at a travel plaza along the road. Monika was reaching her hand into a cooler to grab a spring water when I approached. My nerves hammered with each step closer. You can do this. You can speak to her. “What did he mean back there, about the Bogeyman?” My hands trembled with thoughts that my nervousness might be exposed.

  “Don’t worry, it’s just a legend,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When a spirit becomes a ghost it happens for a reason. They become attached, or earthbound, as we call it. They simply can’t let go of something or someone on earth, be it a person or a possession. That’s all it is.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t get it. Why the Bogeyman?”

  “You know how people believe crazy things in your town, like Sunny Miller is the devil.” Monika said. “The Bogeyman is just more of the same, crazy talk. Some spiritualists believe that ghosts are afraid of going into the light because they are being held here against their will. They believe darker entities are holding them back, lying to them, keeping them captive so to speak.” Monika said.

  “Why would they do that?” I asked.

  “To collect their souls, it’s how the legend of the Grim Reaper was born.”

  “Do you believe it? Are there such things as demons?” I asked.

  Monika shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve seen no evidence for or against demons, angels, heaven, or hell. I really can’t say. What I do know is that there is an afterlife, filled with the spirits and souls of former humans, just like you and me. Some are better than others. Just like in life, there are people who do good and others who make mistakes. If a person made poor choices in life, it stands there’s a good chance they will continue that in death.”

  Monika smiled slightly, leaving to pay for her water. I stopped in the bathroom to collect myself and slow my breathing. After washing my hands I made a grave mistake. Without thinking I glanced into the mirror, something I never did. My face was beat red. I looked like an idiot.

  ***

  We arrived at our destination around one o’clock in the afternoon. “Alright, listen up everyone. You all know the rules but since Will is new I am going to hit them again. It won’t hurt you to pay attention.” Justin directed the group. Corbin walked into the next room without saying a word. “Rule number one, check your crap at the door. Do not bring any personal baggage into the investigation. I need everyone focused, calm, and level headed. Remember, negative energy breeds negative energy. The only other rule; let each other do their job. Nobody panics if things get sticky. Is everyone clear? Will, you doing ok?”

  “Justin, why do you care so much? There must be a billion lost souls. Why do you help them? What’s one soul in a billion really going to accomplish?” I asked.

  “It’s true that it will take some time to help everyone but it’s a great work and we should feel honored to participate in it. It is one of the highest privileges." Justin said. It was a side to him I had never seen before. Justin had leadership abilities but I never thought he cared about things greater than himself.

  “What’s all this for?” I worked up the nerve to ask Corbin while we were unloading the van. He had brought with the most high tech equipment I had ever laid eyes on.

  “This stuff is highly sensitive,” he said. “It’s designed to help us record our contacts with spirits. I’m going to document what we do. It's my hope that future generations will be able to better understand our work. Consider yourself a pioneer William. We’re just scratching the surface of a great work.”

  It was the first decent thing Corbin had said to me since we met. Maybe he just needed time to warm up. Maybe I was gaining his trust. “I’m just hoping the Bogeyman doesn’t break anything,” I laughed, nudging his arm.

  “Yeah, I had the same thought,” Corbin said. “Keep your fingers crossed.” It wasn’t the response I had expected.


  The group was buzzing with excitement as we scurried around. We worked hard to get the equipment set up. The humble shack transformed into a high tech recording studio. One you'd be more apt to find in Nashville rather than an old country house in the middle of nowhere. After the setup we stopped for a dinner break. It was eight o’clock. The group was tired, but morale was high. An unfamiliar feeling of comfort fell over me. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt comfortable in a group.

  “Alright everyone, let’s get down to business. We'll start by asking some questions and see if we get a response from any of the spirits trapped in the house. Hopefully we can pick up some EVP's.” Justin said.

  “My name is Justin. These are my friends, Monika, Corbin, and Will, can you hear me? We’re here to help. We want to help you, but you need to meet us halfway. We mean you no harm. Our intentions are pure. We have with us tonight a spiritual medium, one of the best in the business. She would very much like to communicate with you. She’s here to help you get to where you need to go. Get you to a place of peace and rest. Please, if you can hear us give us a sign of your presence.”

  An eerie stillness calmed the air as we waited. The recorders weren’t picking up anything and our temperature gauges were remaining constant. “We usually get an extreme drop in temperature when a spirit is around,” Justin said. “These gauges haven’t moved at all." Monika stepped out to the porch, feeling that the spirits may be more inclined to speak to her if they had privacy.

  “Any luck Monika?” Justin asked.

  “No luck, it’s too distracting out here, too many noises coming from the animals in the woods.”

  “Why don’t you go in the van and try?” Justin told her.

  “Good idea,” she said.

  My stomach was nauseous. Something felt off. The animals stirring outside and the eerie calm inside was almost maddening. Not to mention the fact that we were trying to contact the so-called dead. Coping skills, I reminded myself as I envisioned Dr. Z's calming presence embracing my fear.

  The night was pitch-black except for our lanterns. Justin said older spirits are frightened by flashlights, too modern. I took a lantern and sat on the front steps, quietly calming myself until a violent wind shook the front door and sent me running into the house.

  Corbin looked up from his computer monitor. “It’s just the wind, man.”

  “Oh,” I turned and looked back out on the porch.

  Monika was walking up the driveway shaking her head. “Nothing,” she said, sitting on the front porch step to take a much needed break.

  “Monika,” I asked, sitting beside her.

  “Yeah.”

  “How could a person, or spirit, become evil, so much so to prevent another spirit from finding peace in the afterlife?” I asked.

  “You’re still stuck on this Bogeyman thing huh?” Monika smiled.

  “I guess so.” I blushed.

  “In the spirit world mind is all powerful. A person with a strong will can control a person of a weaker will. Just like here. You've heard stories about how people are afraid of leaving their abusive partners.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “It’s the same phenomena. It’s psychological bondage, brainwashing, whatever you want to call it. Victims are held captive by their fears. They haven’t realized that their fears aren’t real, that they can break them at any time. It’s hard work, but it can be done. That’s what I focus a lot of my work on when helping a lost soul.”

  I couldn’t help but think of my own life and how I let my psychological disturbances keep me trapped and held captive, captive from truly living a free life.

  “Do you like this work?” I asked.

  “I take my calling very seriously.”

  “You’re doing a great thing for these people. I couldn't do what you do.”

  Monika smiled at me. “Thanks Will. That means a lot. But don't under estimate yourself.”

  “I just don't know if I could have compassion for people who do bad things, especially stealing or killing. I just don't understand the world we live in sometimes. People are so cruel to each other. The people in town, how they bash each other at every turn. Spiteful words of hate and anger, it never stops. It makes me angry just thinking about it."

  "Hate breeds hate. It's as simple as that." Monika said.

  "Don't they get that we are all in this together? I could never do something to harm or hurt someone. I wish someone would teach them a lesson so they'd change their ways." I said.

  “I wish more people were like you, Will. You're a voice of reason. You should let it be heard. You'd do a lot of good in this dark town."

  I nodded and smiled. Monika didn't know the truth, how impossible that sounded, how unrealistic it would be for me to be a leader in Millersville.

  "Part of me stays here for that reason. For a chance to do good in a town that knows so little. I just ask that you remember we don't always know a person's background and where they are coming from. People aren't born bad. Things in life happen, they make poor choices, they’re human too. But, you're right. I don't believe you have a bad bone in your body. You're sweet.”

  Monika smiled and looked shyly away. “Hey Will, I know I can come across as tough and rigid, but I’m really not. I actually quite shy. It’s just with Justin and Corbin, being the only female in the group, sometimes you gotta bust their balls a little.”

  I laughed and scrambled for something witty to say. “So, you don't think I will become a demonic prince of hell?” I felt so stupid when the words left my mouth.

  “Um, no, I think you're pretty safe with that one.” Monika smiled. “Listen, I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot when we first met. I was tired from a long day at work and just wanted to go home when Justin called. Can you forgive me?”

  “Of course,” I said. “I wanted to apologize for my actions too, that wasn’t who I really am.”

  “I know Will. Let’s go inside. I’m getting cold.”

  We walked into the house. The clock on the stove read 4:37 a.m. Justin had a smile on his face. “Ok everyone. That’s a wrap.”

  “What? That’s it? Nothing happened.” I said.

  “Welcome to ghost hunting 101 kid,” Corbin said. “It ain’t like movies or T.V.”

  “We have to get back to the lab and analyze the evidence.” Justin said.

  “Can’t we make something happen? Use an Ouija board or something.” I was feeling confident after my conversation with Monika.

  Corbin spun around and shook his head. “That’s just a parlor trick, nothing scientific about them. They don’t work.” His tone was harsh.

  “Ok Corbin. Back off. It was just a suggestion,” Justin spoke for me. “Now for the hard part,” he said, “taking all this crap down.”

  It took two and a half hours to load the van. The sun was rising in the east, but I wasn’t tired. I felt alive, alive because I connected with Monika.

  Chapter 5

  “We gotta dig deep!”

  “We gotta get tougher!”

  Clichés, the usual one-liners that players yell at random as their teammates head to the locker room. Friday night, game night. A weekly Millersville tradition that showcases the volatile nature of our townsfolk. A week had passed since the investigation. Justin thought it would be best for me to take time and process all that had happened. “Go, be normal.” He said, which was next to impossible when you live in a clown factory.

  Our football field was not considered school property. There was a whole legal battle several years ago. Miller field was built with money donated by, you guessed it, Sunny Miller. The Puritans claimed the land was unconsecrated and since Miller donated the land for public use, they had a legal right to "worship" on it as long as they didn't disturb others. A line frequently crossed and seldom enforced.

  "The eleventh hour is upon us my flock. Repent now. Repent before it's too late and your soul is pulled down into the abyss that awaits all who go astray. Pulled down for all eter
nity!" Shouted a Puritan preacher addressing a small band of followers outside our locker room.

  "Give it a rest dude. Nobody wants to hear your narcissistic beliefs. You people keep spouting off about the 'end of times' but guess what, we're all still here." An Outsider fired back to the preacher.

  "Cast the devil out with the swine. Rebuke his temptations and those of our disgraceful neighbors!" The preacher shouted directly at the Outsiders as a player from the opposing team walked by shaking his head.

  "I bet other teams hate coming here to play us. It's such a damn embarrassment." I said to Randy, our quarterback, as we walked away from one verbal shouting match and into another.

  “You'd all do well to pull your heads out your asses. O-Line, if you guys can't hold a damn block for more than two seconds we may as well not even go back out there." Coach began his halftime speech.

  It was always the same monologue over and over again. Things might have been different if we'd actually ever won a game. It's been at least three seasons since the Millersville Wolverines tasted victory. Sports had never been popular in my town. We had good athletes, but unfortunately they were either Puritan or Outsider. The Puritan kids were forbidden to engage in competitive sport and the Outsiders just didn't give a damn.

  Like every other week, tonight’s game plan was not on my radar. Every synapse in my brain was firing without a leader. My head scrambled with unfocused intent. I should have told coach about my confusion after that hit in the first quarter, but I didn’t want to appear weak. I searched hard for a concrete thought, something solid to hang onto. The only image I could grip for more than a second was the charm dangling from the back of my locker.

  The lack of mental synchronization opened a doorway to a mysterious realm where the lines of reality blurred like a dream. I was aware of the locker room and the environment around me, yet haunting images danced across my vision. I fought hard against the hallucinations. Another psychological disturbance would certainly break me. The images came faster and screamed louder with each attempt to push them away.

 

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