Max heard Greg shout. Then there was a soft knock at the door.
“Is-Is everything okay in there?” Lindsey asked.
It was Laz who answered.
Yes, Lindsey. We are good in here, but you and your family should stay back until we tell you to come in.”
There was a murmur of voices on the other side of the door. One of them sounded very harsh and angry. Max guessed it was Greg. He didn’t like the man at all, but regardless of how he felt about Mattie’s father, Mattie needed help. Max was a professional. Personal feelings would not stop him from doing his job. Max turned back to Mattie.
“Mattie, can you tell Father Lazaro and me if The Bad Man has another name?”
Max was standing up now. He could feel the ground beneath his feet vibrating like he was riding an elevator. Mattie was still wrapped in his covers like a turtle. His eyes and lips were pressed shut.
“It’s okay, Mattie,” Max said. “You’re still doing good, buddy. It’s okay to be scared, but the only way to overcome the bad things in life is to face your fears and not hide from them.”
Mattie whimpered and seemed to mumble something under his breath.
“What did you say, buddy?” Max asked. “Say it just a little bit louder.”
Max stepped closer. The room darkened
Mattie whimpered again.
“Say the Bad Man’s name, Mattie.”
Mattie opened his eyes and yelled out a name. Max couldn’t be sure what was said but it sounded like “Sedebedroom.”
The amulet against Max’s chest vibrated like a cell phone. Mattie yelled the name again.
“SEDEBEDROOM!”
There was a crash as the door to the room flew open. The doorknob went flying to the ground. Greg came bursting through blue eyes flaming with anger. Lindsey was right behind him a frightened look on her face.
“What the fu-—”
His words were cut short as Mattie screamed the name at the top of his lungs.
“SEDEBEDROOM!”
There was a loud boom like a shriek. The noise seemed to come from everywhere. It was so loud Max pressed his hands over his ears. The bed in which Mattie lay rose into the air.
Greg cursed as he went flying backward out of the room like he was hit with a shotgun blast. Lindsey screamed and fell to the floor. Laz, who had been sitting on the edge of the bed, went sailing backward arms flailing. The priest crashed head first into the dresser. The force of the impact sent all of Mattie’s toys tumbling to the ground in a downpour of molded plastic. Perhaps because of the amulet warning him, Max was prepared for the assault.
Max felt a wave of force hit him like a tidal wave. Instead of resisting Max rolled with the impact. The force was strong enough to up-end him. Max did a somersault to keep from busting his head on the wooden floor. He succeeded in that but the energy was still strong enough to slam him into the far wall. Max hit the wall at the same time as Mattie’s bed crashed to the ground. Max crumpled to the ground as the wind left his body.
Max looked around. He could see Greg lying in the hallway groaning. Lindsey was next to him crying. Leslie (Mattie’s sister) had been standing in the hallway on the other side of the wall and had been shielded from whatever force had accosted them. She was crying and asking what was going on.
Max inhaled, allowing himself to catch his breath. Besides having the wind knocked out of him he was unhurt. Max patted the pendant beneath his shirt.
Perhaps my amulet really does have some luck powers, Max thought.
Max saw that his friend Laz was slowly climbing to his feet. His left hand was on his head. Max could see a bit of blood on his fingers.
“Are you okay, man?” Max asked.
Laz grunted.
“Yeah, it is barely a scratch,” Laz gazed at the blood. “Are you good?”
Max shrugged.
“Yeah, just a little winded.”
“Good,” Laz said. “I am going to go check on the family.”
“You do that. I’ll check on the kid.”
Max slowly walked over to the bed. Mattie was no longer tucked into the covers. Whatever had caused the bed to rise and blasted everyone in the room had also ruffled the covers. Mattie lay in the center of the bed. He was curled into a fetal position. He seemed sound asleep. His hair was a sweaty mop plastered to his head. Max could hear him breathing gently.
He reached down gently pulled the covers up over the boy. The amulet against his chest had gone cool. His own senses had gone dormant also. Whatever foreign danger existed had passed. Max stared down at Mattie, contemplating what had just happened. The events that just occurred definitely fit the mold of full-on demonic possession. What was equally disconcerting is how adept the spirit was at not revealing itself.
Max could hear Laz out in the hallway, speaking with the family. Max headed in that direction. He arrived in the hallway to find Laz consoling Leslie and Lindsey. He suspected Greg would have been raising hell except that whatever spirit had attacked seemed to have left the hefty man a bit shaken. Greg leaned against the wall and was looking around in stunned silence. Max approached just as Laz finished speaking.
“So, yes, we will return later. For now, you and your family should get some rest and let the boy rest as much as possible too. He has been through a lot today,” Laz said.
Laz turned to look at Max. Someone had given the cleric a washcloth and Laz was using it to clean the blood off his head. Max noticed his head was bruising.
“You ready to head out?” Laz asked.
“Yes,” Max said.
Maxed stepped to Lindsey.
“Your son is fine now. He’s sound asleep. Like my friend said, I would allow him to rest as much as possible. The spirit got the jump on us today, but don’t throw in the towel just yet. That was just round one. We will be back to finish this. I promise you.”
Max looked directly at Lindsey as he spoke. His dark eyes smoldered.
Between Laz and Max, Lindsey seemed reassured. They exchanged goodbyes. Laz said a blessing before leaving the house.
Outside, the rain had slackened a little but was still coming down steadily. The two men ignored the weather as they walked towards their vehicles. They stopped when they reached Laz’s Elantra.
“So, looks like we will be doing a full exorcism,” Laz said. He looked at Max. “Are you up for it?”
Max pointed at the bruise on Laz’s head.
“I’m not the one all banged up. The question is, are you ready?”
Laz shrugged.
“Yes. It’s just scratch.”
Max shook his head. Max knew that he could be stubborn (Jen told him so all the time), but Laz, despite his priestly ways, could be equally stubborn even though he would never admit it.
“Okay. Whatever Rocky,” Max said. “Let me take a look.”
Before Laz could stop him, Max reached out and touched the bruise on Laz’s forehead. A faint indigo glow surrounded Max’s hand. Max had first learned about his ability to heal while working on a case in which a family’s pet had been injured. The family’s dog (a golden retriever named Midas) had been hurled across the room and broke his hip against a piece of furniture. The dog had been purchased for the family’s daughter. She was devastated and cried like crazy over her hurt pet. Max recalled that he had knelt over the dog and felt a calling within him to help the creature.
He placed his hand on the injury and focused as he did when channeling his soul blast. Only, instead of focusing to harm he focused on helping. He had focused on the wound, the broken bones mending, the inflamed muscles slowly becoming less irritated. The more he focused, the more Max discovered the dog’s body slowly responded to his will.
It was the same thing he was doing now with Laz’s head. After his initial revelation of recuperative powers, Laz had Max experiment with his ability to heal. Over time Max learned he could heal almost any wound but that he couldn’t heal long term conditions like allergies or medical diseases. He had even tried to cure hi
s MS several times. Each time he had failed.
Laz’s wounds responded to Max’s touch. The bruise slowly shrunk and then faded into non-existence.
Max sighed and dropped his hand. Healing always took a little bit out of him, unlike this soul blast. For whatever reason, it was easier to channel the ability to harm something than it was to channel the power to heal. When Max thought about this, it reminded him of something he had read once that said: a genius can spend a lifetime creating a masterpiece, but a fool with a hammer can destroy it in seconds.
“Thank you,” Laz said.
“No problem. I healed your head but there’s still one major problem.”
“What’s that?” Laz asked. A look of concern on his face.
“Well, your wound is healed, but your face is still ugly as hell.”
Laz’s expression changed from one of seriousness to laughter.
“Max, anyone ever tell you that you are a SOB sometimes?”
“OUCH!” Max said. “Are you allowed to use such profane language, father?”
Laz shook his head.
“I guess a priest should be gentler when telling somebody the truth. I will say some Hail Marys.”
They chuckled.
As the laughter died down, Laz’s expression grew serious.
“So are we coming back tomorrow then?” Laz asked.
Max scratched his beard. The rain was picking up.
“Yeah, let’s plan on it for now.”
Laz looked at his friend. He had known Max a long time, long enough to know that something was bothering him.
“What’s wrong?” Laz asked.
Max cleared his throat.
“Something’s off about this whole situation, but I can’t place it right now. I’ve never dealt with a spirit this mischievous and good at hiding before.”
“Are you saying you want to hold off in coming back tomorrow?”
“No,” Max said. “I need do some digging, but let’s plan on coming back tomorrow. If something changes, I’ll let you know.”
Laz nodded.
“Good deal.”
“Now, let’s get out of the rain before we end up catching pneumonia,” Max said.
He turned and headed to his car.
Max strapped on his seat belt as he Laz drove by. The priest honked his horn good-bye as he passed. Max sighed. He watched Laz’s tail lights fade away in the rain. He had spoken truthfully when he had told Laz something was off.
Despite being a detective of the paranormal, Max was not too fond of mysteries. He didn’t mind having to solve an issue, but he liked for the components of the issue to at least make sense within their given milieu. For example, someone plays with magic and unwittingly opens a doorway to the spirit world, something evil comes in and creates chaos in their life, they call Max, Max deals with it. Somebody dies, but feels they still have a lot to do in this life or they’re simply afraid to move on. So, the spirit of the departed stays and haunts a location it was familiar with. The haunted party calls Max and Max comes and reasons with the spirit to pass over to the other side. Those things while outside of the norm, stilled followed the rules of logic. They made sense within the context of his given profession. They were straightforward. Max liked straightforward. This case had failed to be straightforward thus far. Something bothered him about this case. It was something familiar but something he could not recall.
Maybe my MS is affecting my memory, Max thought.
The random consideration made him even more agitated. Max had the same feeling he got whenever someone asked him a question like what artist made a certain song and he couldn’t remember the artist’s name even though it was on the tip of his tongue
“Forget it,” Max said.
There was no use getting worked up about it right now. The best thing he could do was go home, get some rest, and look at the problem with a fresh mindset.
“Okay, Gemma, you ready to roll baby?”
Max turned the key on the ignition.
The engine roaring to life was his answer.
The sound of Night Ranger singing “Sentimental Avenue” came on the radio. Max released the parking brake and popped the car into drive. As he drove downhill, Max glimpsed someone staring at him. It was the daughter Leslie. She was peeping through the curtains of the living room window.
“Yeah, something is not right here,” Max said.
He would have to do some digging. Max turned up the volume as he drove away. From his rearview mirror he could still see Leslie’s face peering at him.
* * *
Part V
Give Me The Night
“Oh! Mmmm! MAX! Oh! My God!”
Max watched his girlfriend Jennifer groan as she closed her eyes.
“Is it good, baby?” Max asked.
Jennifer’s lips turned up in a smile as she ran her tongue across her lips.
“Max, this is great. This pork chop is extra succulent tonight.”
“Well, I am glad you are enjoying it,” Max said.
He watched as Jennifer took another bite of her food.
The couple sat at a small booth in the corner of the restaurant near the kitchen. If Max had a choice, he would have chosen somewhere else to sit. He felt a bit cramped, but Yo! Mama Mias was packed tonight. The table they currently occupied had been the only one available. The couple had intended to eat here the other night, but Max had been so late they had decided to fix a quick bite at his house to have time to catch Jewel of the Nile at the theater. Max had promised to make it up to Jen. Tonight he was keeping his promise.
Jen was having her favorite pork chop parmesan with sautéed collard greens and a side of garlic cornbread. Max was not a huge fan of pork although he ate it occasionally, but he had to admit the food looked tasty. His stomach growled as he watched her slide another piece of meat between her lips.
“How’s your food?” Jen asked between bites.
Max took a bite of his food.
For his meal, Max was having Italian roasted salmon, roasted asparagus and a whole wheat roll. The salmon had been cooked with just a hint of marinara sauce. The sauce wasn’t strong, but it helped to preserve the moisture of the fish. When mixed with the herbs (garlic, basil, and oregano) it created a flavorful moist sensation that covered every inch of his mouth from tongue tip to throat in wave of tangy ecstasy. It was so good to chew. Max almost hated to swallow—almost.
“It’s about as delicious as you look,” Max said.
Max watched Jen smile as he washed his food down with a good swig of Bell’s Two-Hearted Ale.
Holy Hell this is good, Max thought as the bitter taste of the beer mixed with and cleansed the flavor of the fish from his palate.
“Mmmhmmm!” Jen took a sip of her viognier. “You’re good, Max. You know how to make a woman smile, but don’t think those nice words of yours will get you out of being late Maxwell Palinarus MacAulay. You kept me waiting for over thirty minutes.”
The look made Max grunt with pleasure.
Damn woman you just don’t know how good you look, Max thought.
Standing 5’6” (with high heels on) Jennifer Eatun was thick and curvy in all the right places. Max had first met Jennifer about a year and half ago at a public speaking event he had participated in. The event had been at Sahalish City College. The focus of the event had been paranormal phenomena. Sahalish City College was a small private university and the event had been similarly small—not more than twenty people attended as Max recalled. Even if the engagement had been full, Max would have spotted Jennifer. She had been sitting in the middle of the fifth row. He recalled she had been wearing a bright sun-gold V-neck sweater over a pearl turtleneck shirt, black stockings with sun-gold leg warmers, black high heel boots, and an acid-washed blue jean jacket with a knee-length skirt to match the jacket. A sun-gold headband completed the outfit.
The brightness of the headband and sweater had stood out in stark contrast t
o the dark chocolate tone of her skin. The feature that had enraptured him the most was her eyes. Jen’s eyes were dark brown. They were so dark you could barely see her pupils, but far from being secretive, her eyes were an open reflection of her spirit: passionate and direct. Whatever she was feeling or thinking it shown through in her eyes.
Right now, her eyes twinkled with amusement at Max’s arousal.
The other thing that Max found attractive was the way she bit her lower lip when she tried to hold in a smile. She was doing this now.
After the lecture, she had approached Max with questions about hauntings and possessions. She had been full of skepticism as most folks were when first hearing about the paranormal. Max respected this. It was good to be skeptical about something that was hard to prove unless you experienced it. Max himself was skeptical about most claims of hauntings and possessions and so forth. This is one reason he only took cases after his friend Laz had vetted them. Even with those Max would do a follow-up just to be sure the case was valid and serious enough to warrant his intervention.
Max had listened carefully to Jen’s questions. By probing her, he had learned that Jen’s father was being assaulted by a ghost. The hauntings had started about two months prior and had culminated with her father being pushed down the stairs in his home. Despite his elderly age, Jen’s father was spry and avoided being injured. After that, Jen had told him the paranormal episodes had continued. She told Max that often her father claimed the episodes were violent like a sharp object flying directly at her father or him being shoved. Jen had confided to Max she had seen none of this directly hence her skepticism.
“My father is getting old and while senility doesn’t run in our family (that I am aware of) his behavior lately—his talking about these ghosts and such has really got me worried about him. Now that Mom is gone, I’m all he has,” Jen had said.
Her concern had prompted Max to deviate from his usual protocol and investigate. He had even allowed Jen to assist him in delving into the case. Although, Max had to admit his procedural alteration had not been purely altruistic. He had been attracted to Jen from the start, more so than he had towards any other woman. By having Jen work with him, Max hoped that besides helping her father solve his problem, the two would grow closer together.
Invitation To Evil: A Max MacAulay Novel Page 6