House of Darkness House of Light

by Andrea Perron

  Lorraine became equally alarmed, though she didn’t disclose her thoughts to Andrea. It was her job to listen and that she did. Christine wanted to spend time with her mother. It was what drew her into the woods. Yet, she too had become enthralled with all the painstaking toil involved, becoming as lost in a project which seemed to be another unending, Sisyphean task. Carolyn had her newfound friend, someone she met at an antique shop in Chepachet, and she too had left her children behind to exhume ancient bottles from the earth. As the days evolved into weeks, Annie began resenting her mother’s absence though she loved Fran very much and was glad that her mother had someone who’d shared the same interests. Fran Sederback was a fascinating soul. She seemed much older and wiser than her age would allow. Andrea confessed to Lorraine just the slightest hint of jealousy. From the moment the two women met, they’d become virtually inseparable. Fran helped Carolyn with research on their house. They rummaged through antique shops together, acquiring an unusual variety of vintage clothing from the ages, for the ages; an assortment to be envied by any serious collector. Fran also lived in a haunted house. The women shared countless hours of stories. She was the first real friend that the lonely, isolated woman found in the woods and that is precisely where they spent a good deal of their time together. Fran frequently brought her children to the farm. It meant more kids for Andrea to mind: a head count up by three. She felt ignored and unappreciated as a surrogate mother to children not her own.

  By the time Andrea finished telling her sad story, which included a recent manifestation in her bedroom Lorraine came to the conclusion that it was time to approach this persistent problem more aggressively than she’d done thus far. No more investigations. It was time to act. Later that evening she called the farmhouse again, speaking directly with Carolyn at length. She also asked to speak with Roger but he was out of town. How convenient for him. Lorraine had concocted an elaborate scheme to finally rid their house of what was having such a radical impact on the entire family. Carolyn listened carefully. Ultimately declining an offer, considering the proposed remedy far more radical than the existing problem, Lorraine asked Carolyn’s permission to conduct a séance in the house. It all seemed a rather extreme solution to a dilemma the family had learned to live with over time. Don’t stir the pot. Do not fan the flames. It could boil over. At the time it was merely a simmering cauldron of discontent. Leave well enough alone like her desperate daughter.

  “Carolyn. Andrea told me she saw the man and boy in her room again.”

  “She told me. It startled her. When she went back upstairs later they were gone. Give them space. They meant no harm. No harm done. No problem.”

  “They’re never gone, Carolyn. That’s the problem. They need to be freed from this place and your family needs to be free of them.”

  “They seem to come and go as they please. I do not want to stir things up around here again. Maybe they have accepted us. It has been quiet for awhile now… only a few minor incidents lately.”

  “It sounds like you have given up.” Lorraine was frustrated by her client’s complacency on the subject. “Why wouldn’t you want to try to reclaim the house as your own… the home of your dreams?”

  “It is our own. We’ve lived here for more than four years. It does belong to us.” There was a twinge of defensiveness in Carolyn’s voice.

  “No, it doesn’t… you share that space. My dear, your home is exceedingly crowded.” Counterpoint made, for balance, Lorraine stood her ground.

  “It’s a big house. There’s room enough for everyone. I don’t see the point in making matters worse. It would only invite more trouble to my door.”

  “Carolyn, listen to me. Someone invited a demon into your home. I’m not sure if it was Bathsheba who made a deal with the devil, as I suspect, or if it was a group of children playing dangerous games with a Ouija board, or if it arrived through some insidious supernatural pathway we do not yet perceive but it is there and it is quite active, regardless of what you see or hear. It must be expelled and there is only one way I know of to permanently abolish the evil from your home. Please give this all the consideration it rightfully deserves, if not for your own sake, then for your children. Don’t you think they’ve lived with this long enough?” Lorraine was adamant, quite persistent in her approach. As far as the psychic was concerned Carolyn’s apathy was a symptom. The Warrens had long suspected that the woman was in the throes of oppression, just a baby step away from possession. No wonder she did not want to disturb the spirits. She was in the process of becoming one of them! Acquiescing to the power, merging with the force she was no longer willing to battle, a report she received earlier confirmed her suspicions. She believed they had no time left to waste; a critical time came to circumvent a surrender of a soul. Carolyn knew engaging in an unfair fight meant knowing how and when to surrender to it as an act of self-preservation.

  Though Carolyn finally did agree to reconsider an outlandish concept, she never did discuss their offer with her husband once he’d returned home. Her deep ambivalence was a mere shadow of his and would render no purposeful consultations. Wondering how she would even begin to convince him of the necessity for such a gathering, her doubts became much more pronounced, a reticence made more distinct because she did not believe it to be necessary, either. Over time, Lorraine had issued what Carolyn interpreted as a series of empty promises. She introduced her to people who all supposedly possessed skill sets and insights required to attain resolution of their dilemma. So many had come and gone with no discernible impact on their situation; no positive outcomes for them, only further intrusions. Beyond being reluctant, Carolyn had become unwilling to share their story with anybody else. Going on about the business of digging up her most recently discovered mounds of treasures, she all but forgot about the conversation for days, putting it out of her mind.

  The following Friday afternoon Lorraine called again. Apparently she had been in touch with several people who she intended to include in the séance that she intended to perform… come hell or high water! Not quite coercive, she was persuasive. Again, she asked Carolyn about it. Divulging the subject had not come up yet with her husband, she became evasive. Lorraine would have none of it, asking if she and Ed could come to the house that evening. Carolyn agreed, knowing they would be willing to discuss the proposal with Roger, one she had attempted to avoid. It was as if she could already hear his resounding, “No way!” echoing throughout their hallowed halls. She decided to inform him at dinner. Roger’s dour expression informed all else.

  “Ed and Lorraine are coming by to talk with us tonight.”

  “Couldn’t we spend one night without something happening? I’ve been on the road a week. I’m tired. I’ll be watching the Red Sox game tonight so you can talk to them. Leave me out of it. No, better yet, call them and cancel. I don’t want any company tonight. How about some peace and quiet for a change!”

  Roger’s words and even harsher demeanor complicated matters further. Carolyn feared a reprisal from her own timid words, issuing them in whisper.

  “It’s too late. They’re already on their way.”

  “Jesus Christ!” His napkin went flying toward the center of the table. The girls began shrinking into themselves, attempting to become invisible, like the spirits. Roger leapt out of his chair, exploding through the dining room door, leaving his meal behind. He stood alone on the porch in a self-imposed exile: in solitary confinement. An imposing figure at a distance, this dark and brooding figure in twilight was not far away, yet distant, close enough to see a cigarette dangling carelessly from his quivering lips, an indication of some self-restraint. The cauldron was about to boil over. White smoke surrounded the pensive soul as fog would on a beach, wafting through old rusty screens. Carolyn glanced around the table at the faces of her children, with sorrow in her eyes and contempt in her heart for the man she believed was incapable of controlling his emotions, regardless of who it affected. She did not want her kids exposed to his unpredictable
fits of temper. Carolyn, angry with herself, knew she should have informed him privately, prior to a family dinner. Good food suddenly became indigestible for youngsters meekly finishing a meal.

  Their mother quickly suggested they each phone a friend to inquire about spending the night… elsewhere. Raw trembling nerves tingling in her fingers, Carolyn knew the Warrens were due to arrive within the hour, well-prepared to broach the difficult subject of a séance with her belligerent husband. That had to happen privately. The girls were more than happy to oblige. In fact, their mother’s suggestion made perfect sense: permission granted for escape. Evacuate the premises! It wasn’t that easy. Nancy snagged the telephone first then went over to Katy’s house. Andrea, Chris, Cindy and April were not as fortunate, unable to locate an available bed for the night on such short notice, a life-altering twist of fate for all. Several of them were about to witness an arcane, mind-numbing event no child should ever see or hear… ever after as a memory they would never escape.

  Three vehicles pulled into the yard at dusk. It was a caravan: two cars and a truck. Roger glared out the window then back at his wife with disdain.

  “You said the Warrens were coming… you never said they were bringing an army along!” Holy warriors? Mercenaries? Boo! Who goes there?

  “I didn’t know!” She was just as surprised as her husband. The accusatory tone in his voice revealed his suspicious nature, the fact that he simply didn’t believe her… another big surprise.

  Carolyn requested their remaining children go upstairs for the evening as Ed and Lorraine came to the door. The entourage waited patiently outside as the couple entered the farmhouse. Carolyn was confused. Roger, aggravated, this obvious hostility apparent the moment they laid eyes on his face, as that unmistakable “What the hell is going on here?” expression glared through his intense gaze. He was still busy leering contemptuously at his wife when Lorraine interceded on her behalf.

  “Roger. If you are going to be angry with anyone, be angry with me, not Carolyn. She had no idea this many people were coming. If I had asked in advance she would not have allowed it, but we’re here for a good reason so please sit down and we will explain.”

  Lorraine calmly settled into the love seat. Roger remained defiantly on his feet, standing his ground, defending his position. Without saying a word, he fixed his gaze on them.

  “Fine. As you already know, Ed and I have grown increasingly concerned about your family and I have enlisted the assistance of a few close associates who understand the critical nature of this problem. They have come to help us in the process of ridding this house of an evil force dwelling within it. We are here to perform a cleansing of your home… a séance.”

  “Absolutely not!” Roger’s face appeared sun-scorched, his deep dark eyes effectively functioning as the flame-throwers. “Send them away. Under no circumstances is anything like that happening in this house.” Turning toward his wife, as if preparing to pounce, he pointed his powerful weaponry in her direction. “Did you ever give them your permission to do this?” Carolyn shuddered as that toxic venom spewed. Lorraine became defensive. Roger’s voice echoed throughout the house, startling and intimidating everyone within earshot all except for Lorraine. She was neither impressed nor offended by the eruption, countering his comments while rising to her feet.

  “I told you she had nothing to do with this! Roger. Please look at me. We are only trying to help. You can’t let this go on indefinitely. It’s detrimental to your family. We brought people with us who are scholars and scientists, people who know what to do and how to do it. You need to trust us. We’d never do anything to place either of you or your children in jeopardy. Quite the contrary, we intend to banish a dangerous presence you’ve lived with for years. We’ve brought a medium along, a shaman… a holy woman. A priest came with us. I want you to meet them… talk with them. I promise, you will understand the real necessity for this gathering here tonight. Afterward if you decide against this, then we will honor your wishes and accept your position. We will all leave your home. I promise. Please, just hear us out first.”

  Lorraine had a way about her; a practiced and practically magical method of disarming her foes, adversarial clients who were either nervous or scared or both. She had done so with a few calming words of reassurance. It was the out he needed to be even remotely willing to literally and figuratively open that door. Carolyn’s head hung limply, eyes averted. She remained virtually silent for the duration of a turbulent, contentious exchange. Roger’s outburst had inadvertently issued an invitation all its own. Evil descended upon them. An unholy transformation had already begun.

  Carolyn freely admits she has no memory of the following episode. She vaguely recalls their arrival that night. All else has been lost to her. For this, she is grateful as are all of those who witnessed the harrowing ordeal unfold… a blessing which resulted from a curse.

  Roger’s skepticism was outrageous, almost palpable. Lorraine pressed on. She went outside, retrieving those left behind in the dark. Within moments, footsteps began crossing the threshold, too numerous to count. Two children watched, listening through a crack in the door. Andrea tucked April in when they’d arrived then returned to her own bedroom where Cynthia was waiting. Chrissy had put herself to bed, exhibiting little interest in what was occurring downstairs. They crept down that darkened stairwell together. There were no formal introductions. It was all business. Several men entered at first, heavy equipment in tow; massive cameras dangling from broad shoulders. Asking for directions, Lorraine quickly pointed out the cellar door, leading the way. They began their hazardous descent, navigating the rickety set of stairs with caution. A tall man entered the parlor, dressed in black except for the narrow white collar indicating his position as a member of the clergy. He placed his hand on Carolyn’s head then went directly over to Roger, extending his hand again, in friendship. Though he greeted the priest cordially, he’d said nothing but his full name in response, austere among strangers. Silently observing the influx of characters as it continued unabated, Roger remained fixed and rigid in front of the fireplace, cold to the bone. Another woman came in then sat quietly at the end of the sofa. She was young; a serious expression belied her youthful glow. With a case in hand, she opened it carefully then began unloading audio equipment. Removing the Nikon camera hanging around her slender neck, it was hiding an equally large sterling silver cross.

  Finally, the last one to enter was a short, stout middle-aged soul, a woman with flaming red hair. Her ruddy cheeks were freckled and pouty mouth was rounded, framed by lips lined with restraint, as if having suffocated many a smile over the years. Wearing make-up as heavy as her mood, she and this plethora of personalities wandered through the rooms, making themselves at home, photographing the house in infrared. All of their equipment appeared to be state-of-the-art for its time, if bulky and cumbersome. Its purpose was clear: to capture something on film or audio, to record the pending event for posterity. Everybody had a job to do, each one actively engaged in a process. Equipment monitors were checked and re-checked as cameras were mounted on elaborate tripods. A reel-to-reel tape recorder was centered on the dining room table. They’d all been informed of what technical difficulties to expect, issues the house presented, all supernatural in origin. Essentially, they didn’t like their pictures taken. The kids watched in awe, going unnoticed by adults nearby. There is a crack in everything… that’s how the Light gets in.

  Roger appeared overwhelmed by the deluge. His withering grimace spoke of disapproval. Carolyn lingered in her chair, silent and virtually motionless. Lorraine brought the medium over to her and both women crouched down and spoke quietly to the mother of many, assuring her that they would do all in their power to rid the home of the evil lurking within it. Carolyn remained unresponsive. She stared at them with vacant, hollow eyes, as if she couldn’t comprehend their language or could not hear a word they said. Lorraine was explaining who this woman was beside her; a true friend, describing her as a spiritual
conduit capable of contacting then communicating with the dead. Carolyn’s blank expression informed both. She was already in deep trouble. Lorraine took her hands, as cold as stone in winter, like touching a corpse.

  “Carolyn.” Lifting her head from beneath the chin, Lorraine gently guided the weight of it upward. Gazing into eyes once full of light, they’d gone dark and distant. “Dear, listen to what I am saying. Someone invited a demon into your house. It might have happened many years ago, before you arrived here. Or it might have come in because of mischievous children, playing with fire, disguised as a game, or it could have been Bathsheba Sherman, bartering her soul, but make no mistake, someone invited this demon just as surely as you invited us in so many months ago. You welcomed us then asked for our help and that is why we are all here tonight. It will never leave on its own. Dear, I hope you understand me. We have to do this and we need to do it tonight.” It was as if she was trying to inform and convince everyone present regarding a dangerous situation. With her back toward Roger, she felt him listening, too.

  Still verbally unresponsive, Carolyn began to cry without making a sound. Tears pooled in her eyes then trickled down her face. Lorraine reached into a pocket, producing a wad of tissues. No one left an impression that the séance would be easy. Carolyn’s face suddenly altered. It belied a fearfulness which spoke to hearts in minds of everyone in the room, including her intransigent husband. It was as if she had just been informed about an impending surgery to be conducted without the benefit of any anesthesia; the abject fear of pain. There was pure terror in Carolyn’s eyes as the desperate gaze of a tragic soul wounded on a battlefield, waiting… praying to be noticed among the dead.