“There’s a hitch isn’t there?” I asked sensing he hadn’t told me everything.
“Not a big one. They certainly expect me to come back to Texas as soon as I graduate and take a position with the church.”
“And you’re not planning on going back?” I asked, but I could already tell that’s what he’d meant.
“No. I don’t believe the way they do. My Dad was right I guess. I’ve been corrupted by the world.”
“Or maybe you’ve been enlightened.”
“Perhaps.” He said and rubbed his chin. “I still believe in a higher power and know there is good and evil in this world. But, I can’t endorse the way they package it. All of the preachings about fire and brimstone seems overly sensationalized to me. As does the speaking in tongues and slaying of the spirit.”
“Slaying of the spirit?”
“It’s when you’re touched, and you pass out. You’d have to see it.”
“That sounds intriguing.” And it was. I couldn’t believe there were actually people out there who lived their lives around this stuff. It seemed like mental illness to me.
“The thing is, Samantha, they talk about a demon of religion. It’s something they say afflicts Catholics, and well, pretty much any other church that isn’t theirs. But sometimes I wonder if they aren’t blinded to the fact that a demon of religion has infiltrated our church. What was once a small group of people who were focused on the word of God has become this mega church of leadership and members who are fixated on money and power.”
“So, you do believe in demons?”
“That I do. I’ve seen things that have left me with no doubt that they exist. That’s actually what my story was about.”
“Oh, you mean the rest of this wasn’t the story?” I found this all fascinating.
“Nope. That was just some background information. Though, if you need to go, I completely understand.” He said and looked towards the coffee cart parked a few feet away from us.
“No, not at all. Let me get us some coffee, and you can tell me the story.”
“Sure, I’ll take a mocha. No whip cream or sprinkles.” He said and winked at me.
I thought for a moment he was going to let me pay for his coffee, but Cameron stood up and pulled a ten dollar bill out of his wallet. I took it and started to walk towards the cart.
“And use that to pay for yours too. I don’t want change.” He called out after me.
That seemed to set everything right in my mind. I’m not sure why the thought of paying for his coffee gave me so much pause. I guess it was because it seemed so out of character for him. It made me realize that I had already formed very strong opinions about him. It was as if we’d known each other for a long time. You know how every once in a while, you meet someone and it just clicks? That happened with Cameron for sure.
I took the two mochas back to our table. One was with whipped cream and sprinkles, mine, and one without for Cameron. He smiled at me in a way that told me the sight of me with my coffee gave him real joy. I’ve probably said that everything about him was endearing a million times already, but it’s important to understand that he was one of the most engaging and attractive men I’d ever met. Every time he looked at me, I felt special.
“There was three dollars left, but you said not to bring back change, so I put it in the tip jar,” I said and took a tentative sip of the hot drink.
“Good. I’m sure not enough people tip him.” He said and gave the man running the cart a friendly wave. “If I can help make up for that, it’s a good thing.”
“So, you were going to tell me a story about why you believe in demons.”
“This happened when I was around twelve. The church had a building, but we hadn’t moved into the massive worship center the congregation uses now. I think it was being built, but that doesn’t really matter. So, at the time, services were held at this big old church in the city that the leadership had purchased for cheap. People drove in from the surrounding small towns, like the one my parents and I lived in, every Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday for various services and group studies. There were also members from the city who would attend, and occasionally people would wander in from off the street. My story is about one of the people who walked in one Friday night.” He said and looked around as if he was checking to make sure no one was within earshot before continuing.
“Her name was Laura, and she stumbled into the church on Friday night when the service was almost over. She looked sick, hungry, and scared. After the service was over, my parents and some of the other founders took her downstairs into the basement where the church kitchen was located. My mom fixed her something to eat, and one of the other ladies found her a sweater and pants in a donation box. She’d come in wearing a dirty pink sundress, but the weather was much too cold for the way she was dressed.
After she’d had something to eat and was dressed in warm clothes, I had to sit off in a corner watching as people prayed over her. I didn’t think anything weird was going on at first because the adults in our church formed circles and prayed over people all of the time.
When the girl started to shake and cry, they laid hands on her and continued to pray. After what seemed like only moments, but it could have been much longer, she started to spit and growl. I could swear her skin turned gray too, but I’m not sure if that was real or the overactive imagination of a young boy. The woman standing next to my mother was startled by the growling and pulled her hand back. I think this had the effect of breaking the circle. The girl jumped up, ran upstairs, and fled the church.”
“Was that it?” I asked. “I mean she could have been mentally ill. You know that sound like a mental illness.”
“I figured you’d say that.” He responded good-naturedly. “But, that wasn’t the end of Laura’s story. She came back the next Friday, but this time her mother was with her. Her mom explained to us that Laura had been a runaway, but after she’d come to our church, she’d come home.
“I sat with Laura and ate cookies while my parents and the other founders talked with Laura’s mom. I found out later that Laura had been oppressed by a demon, and she ran away trying to escape it. Laura’s mom thought it didn’t work, and while she was on the streets, the demon had possessed her.
“She thought that the prayer the church had done with her the last week had helped her just enough to make Laura come home and ask for help. Since our church was the first people to offer help, Laura’s mom brought her back to us.
“They asked Laura’s mom if she would leave and come back in a few hours. After that, they came to where Laura and I were playing checkers in a Sunday school room and asked her if she would let them help.
“She said yes, and they took her back down into the basement. Again, this was just the founders. None of the rest of the congregation was included, and I was instructed to stay upstairs in the Sunday school room and play games or read. My Mom said it was okay if I turned on the television and watched cartoons or drew with the art supplies. But, after she left the room, my dad handed me his Bible and told me it would be best if I read it or prayed.
“Of course, as soon as they went downstairs, I started plotting on how I could get down there and watch. I didn’t like being up there all by myself. After what I’d seen the last week, I was worried that they’d get the demon out of the girl and it would come after me. I wanted to be close to the leaders and the preacher so they could protect me.
“After a few minutes, I snuck out of the Sunday school room and waited at the top of the stairs. When I heard them start to pray over her, I crept down the steps as quietly as I could.
“What I found in the basement made me wish I’d stayed upstairs. The grownups were standing in a circle around Laura, and she was tied to a wooden chair. Her wrists were tied to the arms, and her ankles were bound to the legs of the chair with what looked like two leather belts.
“It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but Laura was already covered with sweat, and he
r hair was matted down to her head. The sides of her mouth were cracked and bleeding. She was making this low, guttural noise that would suddenly shift to a high pitch whine.
“The church founders continued to pray over her as Laura’s appearance became more and more monstrous right in front of my eyes. A few minutes later, her eyes were bulging, and her skin looked mottled and decayed.
“At some point, my father began to command the demon to reveal its name. My mother told me later when she learned that I’d snuck downstairs and witnessed the exorcism, that this was just a distraction. My father was just occupying the demon while the prayers reached Laura’s soul.
“Eventually, it was over. It felt like their praying went on for hours, and for a while, it looked like Laura’s body might actually die. But, when I thought the founders were all going to pass out from exhaustion, there was a bright light and a thunderclap that made my ears ring for days.
“When the blindness from the light wore off, I could see that Laura looked like a normal girl again. She was smiling and crying while the founders took turns hugging her and praising Jesus.
“I expected to feel something dark in the room with us, but there was nothing. The air felt clean and light as if the Holy Spirit was lingering to celebrate with us. I believed the evil was gone, and I knew it was real because I could feel the difference in the air around us.
Laura’s mother came to pick her up, and they came back to church every week since. In fact, if you were ever to be down in Texas, they still attend my family’s church.” Cameron finished.
I studied him for a moment before I responded. He looked so sincere that I didn’t think I should say what I really wanted to. The clinical side of me knew that what had most likely happened was a combination of severe mental illness and the overactive imagination of a pre-pubescent boy, but I couldn’t bring myself to say any of this.
Plus, it wasn’t like I was a dogmatic atheist. There was a part of me that very much believed in the possibility of the supernatural, but that didn’t necessarily include demon possession and exorcism in church basements.
“In the movies, it’s always Catholic Priests performing some rite of exorcism. It seems, and this is just my knowledge based off pop culture, that there are a lot more hoops to jump through for an official exorcism than praying in a church basement.” I winced at my tone and hoped that I didn’t come off as too snippy.
“The church I came from doesn’t view it the same way. There isn’t a hierarchy of power in God’s eyes. Any believer is just as strong against Satan and his minions as any other as long as they have faith.”
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I believe the same thing except without the church part. I know that huge portions of the Bible were made up or altered to serve the interest of men. So, while I am certain of the presence of good and evil, there isn’t any need for a church to be involved in faith.”
“But you believe that your parents and the other church founders exorcised the demon afflicting that girl?”
“Yes, I do. Just because I don’t believe that religion is needed doesn’t mean that I think all of it is bad. Those people wanted to help Laura, and they were fighting a spiritual battle on the side of good. While I do believe that religion is ripe for corruption, I don’t believe that all of it is inherently corrupt.”
Chapter Four
Talking with Cameron gave me a lot to think about. We remained close, and he helped me almost daily with my assignments. I probably could have done them on my own. The class was a cake walk compared to my last year of nursing classes, but I enjoyed spending time with him.
Cameron was from a background so different than mine that it was like being friends with someone from another world sometimes. Before I knew it, two weeks had passed and I’d barely spoken to John or Riley. I’d hardly thought about them too. I guess that’s sad, but perhaps it’s what I needed to get past the incident in my apartment.
It was Friday, and after I’d pulled my car into the driveway, I went to the mailbox. Inside was a letter from the Carver Mental Health Center, and my heart nearly drummed out of my chest as I bolted up the sidewalk to my front door.
The envelope was torn halfway open before I’d even set foot in the house. I dropped my purse and my bag where I stood, and almost tripped over them as I made my way down the hall into the kitchen. I dropped the envelope into the trash and unfolded the letter inside.
“Yes!” I yelled and proceeded to do the Cha-Cha across my kitchen floor.
There was a deep stab in my chest at that moment that stopped me in my tracks. I missed Riley, and she should have been there when I opened the letter. I pulled out my phone and shot off a text to her.
I got the job
Yay!!!! :-) I’ll be there at seven with a keg. Housewarming party and new job celebration!! – was her response.
For a moment, I considered telling her that I’d have liked more notice on the party, but then I reconsidered. I had promised her a housewarming party, and I did want to celebrate my new job. I also missed my friends. I’d been so wrapped up in school that I had been ignoring everyone but Cameron.
I was also a little worried about having a house full of people. Nothing horrible had happened over the last two weeks, but this old house had been giving me fits for sure. I couldn’t keep the temperature in the place regulated to save my life. No matter what I did, it would be stiflingly hot in one room and freezing cold in another.
I’d called my Dad about it, but he’d said that it was probably a combination of an old heating system and drafts. I told him that I didn’t think the HVAC was that old in this house because the landlord had installed central air at some point. He offered to have his lawyer get me out of the lease, but I hadn’t been ready for that yet.
There were other small annoyances too, but I couldn’t attribute them to the house. I’d purchased a small table for the entry way so I’d have a place to set my keys and purse when I came in the door, but sometimes my keys wouldn’t be there when I went to get them. I’d find them on the kitchen table or on the bathroom counter upstairs. This was probably just the stress of school and waiting to hear about the new job wearing me down, but I’d never had a problem like that before.
The only other major issue was the scratching. Riley had heard it when she spent the night, but she’d attributed it to drugs. I’d believed it was the drugs too because she’d said she’d heard scratching in the attic and at the basement door. The problem with that was that there’s no basement door in this house. At least that’s what I’d thought.
After the scratching in the attic had kept me awake for the third night, I finally broke down and called my Dad again. I couldn’t afford to lose sleep right now. Every single session of my classes was essential, and if I got sick and had to miss work, it would affect my school and my employment. There wasn’t another mental health center like Carver close by, and I had no desire to move away.
Dad said in an old house like this, the scratching was most likely rats or raccoons. He said the landlord should pay for extermination or relocation of wildlife, but that I shouldn’t wait for the property owner or manager to hire someone. So, Dad called and hired an exterminator. He told me he’d pay for now, but that we’d give the bill to Becky so she could forward it on to the landlord for reimbursement.
The problem was that the exterminator came and found nothing. He didn’t find any signs of rats or raccoons. In fact, he said there was no sign of there ever having been any kind of infestations in the house. I asked him if that was weird given how old the house was. He said it was strange, but if the former tenant had kept the place immaculate plus had regular inspections, it was possible.
I asked the exterminator if there were no rats or raccoons, what was making the scratching noises? He said:
“Your imagination.”
Interestingly enough, after his inspection, the scratching stopped. Oh, and he also showed me the basement door. It was in the pantry floor. I
believe the pantry door had been closed the night Riley heard the scratching, so the only thing I could figure out was that she thought the pantry door was the door to the cellar.
“What’s down there?” I asked Bob, the exterminator when he emerged from the square hole in the floor.
“You haven’t been down there?” He seemed shocked.
“No, I didn’t even know the door was there until you found it. I thought my friend was crazy when she said she heard scratching at the basement door.” I left out the part about her being high as a kite.
“The person who rented the house to you didn’t show you the basement entrance?”
“Nope. Like I said, I didn’t even know it was there. I have no idea if she knows. The landlord is from out of state, and he hired a local real estate agent to manage the place.” I explained. “So, what’s down there?”
“You want to come down and see?” He asked.
“Not really. I’ll take your word for it.”
Magic & Mystery: A Cozy Mystery Sampler Page 22