Dr. Donalds pulled me aside after the meeting. He grabbed my shoulder and yanked me with him. I followed him.
“I’m not a superstitious man,” Dr. Donalds said with a heavy drawl. “But I am a caring man and I trust what I see. I’ve been here for twenty years. I’m going to tell you a story just so you know, because I worry about you. When you came to us you were a man in his prime. You were fit and, well, cocky as hell. Now you’re thin and you walk around talkin’ to yourself. Nobody can miss it. So here’s my story and maybe it will affect your decision. Before Babcock, we had a wonderful director. His name was Brown. He’d been with us for goin’ on twenty years himself. He hired Cassie on and there were some disagreements between them that quickly came to a head. He killed himself a week after the disagreements. Thought you should know that this lady, she’s got a long reach and she knows revenge.”
“Thank you, Dr. Donalds.”
“You take care, son, you hear?”
“I’ll do my best.”
It was strange walking back onto the chronic ward. The patients swarmed me with requests and everyone seemed glad to hand me some chore that needed to be done immediately. Everyone was trying to pull me aside and talk to me. I ran up to my new office and closed the door, placing the stack of urgent files on the desk before me. Cassie’s office seemed like a tomb. The large bookshelves were empty and her smell was gone. There was no trace left of the witch that had decorated her office with occult books and Jungian archetypes. There was only the hint of urine in the air and the smell of cold tile.
I went up to see Roy first. Since John had left, he had been cutting himself fairly badly. He had at least twenty stitches. No one knew how he had done it, but the injuries were there.
Roy smiled when I walked in the room. “You finally came,” he whispered.
“Of course,” I said. “I told you I wouldn’t abandon you.”
“Thank you.” Roy hugged me passionately. I let him cry onto my shoulder. I couldn’t think of a reason to stop him. The boy was broken and lost.
“I’m going to die tonight,” he said.
“You’re planning suicide?”
“No. My sins are great enough without that on my soul.”
“Then what makes you think you’re going to die tonight?”
“She told me she’s coming for me.”
“Cassie?”
Roy shook his head.
“Circe?”
“She did this,” he said pointing to his arms. “I’m crazy, so who would believe me, but what weapon could I possibly use to cut this deep? The plastic butter knives in the cafeteria? Or maybe my electric razor? But I’m crazy so why believe me? She told me she’s coming for me tonight.” He began to cry again, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I don’t want to die. I want to see my sisters again. I want to say I’m sorry. When she takes me tonight, I’ll go to hell and I’ll never see them again.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Don’t say what? That I’m going to hell? I killed my parents with the blunt end of an axe! Do you think there is any redemption for me? Do you think there is any way God will forgive me? Is there salvation for a boy who beats a four-year-old's skull in? I called Caal and he came. I gave him my soul and she is coming for me tonight.”
“What can I do?”
“Take your wife and leave. Run away. Don’t go to hospitals. Don’t go to doctors. Run away! Save your babies.”
“She’s leaving. Her mother is taking her tonight. Just tell me what I can do for you?”
“It’s too late for us, Dr. Black. Some sins can never be forgiven.”
Roy cried again and he prayed. I sat with him for a while and then I left him to his tears. I spoke with the mental health workers and had him put on a 24-hour suicide watch, but I knew that wouldn’t save him. Every crazy man and woman in the hospital had the same delusions that day. Even the catatonics who could only rock back and forth muttered the same words. They moved in their stereotyped rhythms and mumbled Circe under their breaths.
I heard it over and over again that day. She walks. She was with them all at night. She slept with them in their beds and told them of horrible, unstoppable futures. The madmen sang in a symphonic coordination and no one heard them. How long had Mr. Nicca claimed the devil was hunting him? What difference did it make if the devil had changed names? How long had Mr. Fat said that the devil made him eat? Who would notice if the devil now made him cut his own arm? They all came to me. They all knew me by name and they told me the same thing. Run away, they said. Run away.
I left early. I had only worked four hours. I could feel the frowns of the stressed and angry staff as I walked out. They were tired and overworked, and whether they knew it or not she was whispering in their ears and poisoning their minds. Everyone in the chronic ward seemed flat and dead. They had become living ghosts. They needed someone to make things better and they wanted me to be that person, but I couldn’t put my mask back on. I couldn’t pretend to be a workaholic. I couldn’t be the good doctor. I knew they were grumbling beneath their breaths. I didn’t care.
I had to see Cybil. I drove quickly, ignoring all the traffic signs. I blasted music and tried to reach her as soon as I could. I had to do what my wife said, but more than that, I needed some kind of explanation for what was happening. I had seen enough horror movies to guess. I tried to imagine ancient Indian burial grounds or some woman tortured at the fort. I imagined that she had come back to haunt us, but I couldn’t see anything human in Circe’s eyes. I couldn’t imagine the human being that had dwelt beneath her wretched form.
I needed to understand, so I could fight what I had awakened. I needed a spell or a book or a prayer. I was looking for anything. Every monster had a weakness, so I drove desperately to Cybil searching for my monster’s Achilles’ heal.
Cybil was sitting on her front porch in a rocking chair waiting for me. She smiled at me briefly and pulled me into her house. The children were gone and everything was in boxes. All the life that had flourished there upon our first visit was gone. There was no pretty room to sit in; all the furniture had been taken away. There wasn’t even a sofa, so we sat on the floor.
She wasn’t as pretty as I remembered her. Her hair was messy and she was wearing sweats. She had put on a little weight and her skin seemed sallow and blemished. Maybe it was only because she had stopped wearing makeup, it was hard to tell.
“You’ve come here because it’s begun,” she said.
“Yes.”
“What do you want? What do you think I can do?”
“You’re a witch, aren’t you? Can’t you stop it, or at least tell me how to stop it? Can you tell me what it is? Is it a ghost? Something Cassie made?”
“It is one of many that sleep just beneath the surface of our world. It’s old. Older than the earth itself. It chose its home long before we came here. The people who lived here before us probably avoided the place, but when Europeans arrived, it called to them and they built the fort. Fort Laconcay has always been different. Its walls have moaned with sorrow. No matter what you name the place, it’s always her name. She’s reached out to people in dreams and corrupted them with the whisper of the wind, but now she walks and she looks for you.”
“How do I stop her?”
“You think you can stop her? I told you before she’s older than the earth we walk on and we’re nothing to her. We are nothing.”
“Can’t you change the future? Can’t I use your visions to change the future?”
“I can only answer that with a story. An archetype. Have you read Oedipus Rex?”
“No. But I know the psychological reference.”
“Before Oedipus was born his parents went to an oracle and she predicted that their son would kill his father and marry his mother, so they tried to stop the vision by leaving their son on a hill to die. Someone found him, raised him, and when he became a man he killed his father because he didn’t know he was his father, and married his mother because he didn�
�t know she was his mother. It is the classic self-fulfilling prophecy. In trying to fight the future, you only bring yourself closer to the future.”
“What about Pria? She’ll be alright, won’t she?” I had begun to cry. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t stop.
“Pria is a good woman. Death offers peace to those who deserve it. The flesh is weak, but the soul has wings.”
“What the fuck does that mean? Will Pria be alright?!”
Cybil shook her head. I grabbed the woman by the shoulders. “Tell me?!”
“By tomorrow evening she will cradle her babies in afterlife.”
“Fuck you! If I kill Cassie, will this stop?”
“Do you really think Cassie has that much power?”
“What about a priest? Is there some kind of exorcism?”
“You’ve seen a lot of movies. Do you imagine that all monsters can be defeated because Hollywood wills it so? Do you think Circe is a monster? The gods of the old world have no flesh to kill, no soul to take.”
“If I burn the hospital?”
“You can beat your fists against a wall until they bleed, but the wall still stands.”
“What are you talking about? I need you to tell me how to stop this. If I kill myself, will it end?”
“You are only one. One of many monsters she sees as children. She’ll find others.”
“I’m not a monster! I didn’t do this. I haven’t hurt anyone!”
“But you are. You know you are. Your repentance is empty and your regret is shallow.”
I looked around at the boxes and Cybil’s empty house. I began to shake. Fear smothered me. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going where it’s safe. This place is cursed.”
“What’s going to happen?”
“A storm is coming.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know anything more than that.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening. Did Cassie do this?”
“Don’t blame Cassie. Blame yourself. I blame you. The god saw something akin to itself in you. You are like it. It was your corruption that woke the beast.”
“This isn’t my fault! I don’t even believe in this shit.”
“If I kill you, does it matter that I don’t believe in death? You’ll still die and my stupidity doesn’t excuse me.”
“If you hate me so much, why did you see me?”
“Because I pity your wife and I want her to know that there is always a light in the darkness. She shouldn’t worry for herself or her babies. Tell her not to be afraid. Tell her that her kindness is seen and known. Tell her for me, please.”
I nodded and walked away. There was nothing else to say. She had no answers and my wife needed me. I was done with psychics and witches. I wanted to go home to my wife. I wanted to wipe away all traces of Cybil and Cassie and Circe and all the old witches that came before them, but as I drove away their voices echoed in my mind until they were all I could hear. The darkness consumed me. I was lost in the night and there was no way I could get home to Pria soon enough. I called the house on my cell phone, but there was no answer. I called until the phone ran out of batteries. I could get no signal.
It took an eternity to make it back to our tiny house. The dog was barking at the tattered screen door when I arrived. Everything seemed fine. The flowers still hung in the flowerpots. The old plastic lawn furniture was still sitting neatly on the front porch. The house was ugly, as ever, and the spiders still hung in an endless net above us. I ran from my car to the house.
I could hear Pria screaming as soon as I passed through the door. My heart leapt into my throat. There was no emotion I could describe. The only thing I was aware of was Pria’s agonized scream. I was too terrified to move forward. I was afraid that I would find her with Circe. I was afraid of her suffering. I ran to her in desperation and found Sadaf holding her. Pria was bent over, crying and shaking. She was grinding her teeth and clutching her belly.
I ran to Pria and put my arms around her. She looked up at me with sunken eyes and wailed in pain. “It hurts too bad,” she cried.
“What hurts?”
“My belly!”
I turned to Sadaf. “What is going on?”
“This started twenty minutes ago. I called the doctor. She told me to call him. He told me to dial 911. I was going to call when she started screaming. I’ll go call now.”
“No ambulance!” Pria wailed. “They’ll just take me to the hospital. I need to leave. I need to leave. It’s killing my babies!”
She was grinding her teeth so hard I could feel it in my bones, like nails across a chalkboard. “You have to go to the hospital,” I whispered.
“It’s her. She’s doing this. Fucking Cassie’s demon. Take me away from here! Please!” She screamed again, her face awash with agony. I could see Sadaf on the phone in the other room. She couldn’t take it anymore. Pria fell to the floor, holding her belly and started praying. I felt so powerless. I didn’t know what to do. I left the room to get a blanket to wrap her in to carry her to the car. When I came back, Pria was lying quietly on the bed.
“Is she alright?” I yelled. I ran to Pria and looked at her. She was breathing, but her breath was shallow and rapid. Her head was hot and a tiny rash had emerged on her arms and legs. I picked up her arms. They were cool to the touch. She was cold.
I turned to Sadaf. She was crying. “We need to get her out of here,” I said, gathering Pria into my arms.
“Don’t you touch my baby!” Sadaf’s scream was shrill and enraged. “You don’t ever get to touch my baby again. Never!”
“We need to get her away from this place. Something is killing her!”
“Just because I’m foreign doesn’t mean I’m a superstitious twit. The ambulance will be here. I called them while you were fumbling around in the closet. She is sick and you should have taken her to the hospital this morning instead of making her wait to talk to some ludicrous psychic.”
“She wanted to wait.”
“If she wanted you to bleed her, would you? No. You use common sense. She made me wait all day here for you to return. Some good it will do her now. She can’t speak or hear.”
Pria lay in my arms like a rag doll. She was completely limp. “I need to get her away from this place.” I began to push my way to the door, but Sadaf began throwing everything at me she could find. Telephones, books, and dirty laundry all flew across the room at me.
“You’re a bad man. You hurt my baby. You did this. We wait for the ambulance!”
I placed Pria on the bed and grabbed her hands. Sadaf screamed again. There was a different pitch to her voice this time. Her hands went over her mouth and her eyes widened with despair. She was sobbing. I looked down at my white shirt. It was dotted with blood. The rash that covered her arms and legs was weeping blood and blood dripped from her mouth. I began to cry and pulled her blood-soaked body to me. I tried to recite the Lord’s prayer, but I only knew the first line. I tried to recite another prayer, but I could find no words for any god. I had nothing to offer to save my wife except wailing.
Somewhere over the din of Sadaf’s shrieking and my sobbing I could hear the sirens coming. I was aware of EMS entering the house and pulling my wife from my arms. I could only cry. There was nothing left for me to do. I rode with her in the ambulance, holding her frigid hands.
“Pria, my love,” I whispered in her ear. “Cybil said that you would find the light. Cybil said you would hold your babies. Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.”
Pria was immediately taken to the OR. Nurses and doctors engulfed her, carrying her away from me and leaving me to ruminate in the waiting room of the Women and Children’s hospital. I found myself chewing my nails and pacing. Time dragged on endlessly. At that moment, all my faith in science and a rational universe that made sense melted away before me. Rage burned under my skin and hatred was ignited like an uncontrollable fire. Skepticism wa
s sacrificed at the altar of the irrational desire for revenge in the face of an uncontrollable universe. I wanted my wife back and I wanted my babies.
“Cassie, you fucking cunt,” I whispered as I walked. “If she dies, you die.”
Hours upon hours passed and no amount of pestering could bring me any closer to knowing what was going on with Pria. I cursed at the nurse and screamed at a janitor for no reason. I even kicked the strange robot thing that was running up and down the halls carrying labs. Night faded with the dawn, and still there were no answers to my relentless questions. Finally, I sat down, tired and alone, and allowed my eyes to close. Of course, she came. I almost had to smile. The stench filled the air and I could feel her tiny pets scurrying up my pants. I didn’t care if I looked mad. I spoke to her.
“You did this?” I asked her.
It was Jane who answered. She was sitting beside me. Placid and calm. She looked so neat and so serene, almost like an angel. She got up and stood next to the old god, next to Circe. Circe’s bugs climbed up Jane’s skirts. “You did this,” Jane answered sweetly. “Don’t you see yet? Don’t you understand? You are one of us. We’ve saved you.”
I opened my mouth to talk, but there was nothing to say, so I wept. I closed my eyes and sobbed. Jane put her hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Just let it happen. It’s better that way. Don’t fight.”
I opened my eyes. Circe stood in front of me. She was different. She was changing. The bugs were gone. A peacock stood at her right hand and Caal stood at her left.
“What are you?” I asked.
“I am one of the old ones,” Circe whispered. “I was here before the world was formed. I give to those who give to me.”
She smiled with her bloodless lips and opened her mouth to show an endless space, the universe itself seemed to pour out of her mouth, in all its infinite wonder. For a moment I only stared. I looked at her as a child might look at a kaleidoscope.
“What do you want? Do you want me to kill Cassie? What will stop you? How can I save my wife?” I asked.
She dug her fingers into the pallid clay that rolled around her almost female form like skin. The black vines that crept beneath this flesh in a mirror of veins opened up, pouring black liquid onto the ground.
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