The Accidental Witch

by Jessica Penot

  I sat down on the chair across from him and smiled.

  “I’m Phaedra,” I said. “I’m the therapist from behavioral health and I’m here to do your screening, okay?”

  The young man stared at me and the lights flickered. I looked up and when I looked back down, there was a shadow behind the young man. I had never seen anything like it. I blinked, expecting the shape to be gone when I opened my eyes again, but it only became clearer. It was a figure. It was some kind of living being. It had eyes that glared out at me across the room. I could hear it whispering to the young man. I could hear it telling him to kill me.

  I stood up and faced the creature. I looked it in the eyes and it seemed stunned and stepped backwards.

  “Kill the witch,” the creature snarled. “Kill the witch!”

  I turned away from the demon and faced the young man. He was crying.

  “I can help you,” I said to him.

  “No one can help me,” he said. “No one. No one. I just want to die.”

  Suddenly, I felt like something stepped inside of me. I could see what I was doing, but my hands moved without my permission. I reached out and placed my hands on the man. I put them on his shoulders and pulled him to me, so that I could feel his body pressed up against mine. I placed my hand on his face and a voice curled out of my lips that was hardly my own.

  “Be gone,” I said. “This one is mine now.”

  The demon wailed. It hissed and spoke a language I couldn’t understand. It cried out in many tongues and the young man looked into my eyes and wept. The demon screamed and the lights flickered again and then it vanished into the floor. As it vanished, it struck out at me and pushed the young man over. I could feel the demon’s claws grabbing at me as it disappeared. The young man collapsed into my arms. I was unable to catch the young man and he fell on top of me with an enormous thud. We both hit the side of the bed together. Pain cut through my side as we crashed into the small bed. I tried to catch him and hold him up. I tried to save him from the fall, but the momentum pulling us both down was too great and he weighed at least sixty pounds more than me. As I tried to lift him up, the bed fell over against the door. We fell with the bed and I hit the hard tile with an alarming crunch. His body fell on top of mine and again I tried to prevent him from falling on top of me. Finally, I gave up and just held him against my chest as if he were a child. He wept on top of me. I felt utterly drained, as if I had just run a marathon. Every part of my body hurt and I could taste my own blood in my mouth.

  “It’s gone now,” I whispered into his ear breathlessly. “It won’t come back.”

  “Thank you,” he cried.

  “You weren’t mad. They just didn’t understand and they never will, but it’s over now.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  Suddenly, the door burst open and security rushed in the room. They pulled the young man off of me and helped me to my feet. One of the nurses grabbed me and security started pinning the young man to the bed, restraining him.

  “Wait!” I yelled. Everyone froze. They looked at me as if I was insane. My skirt was torn and I was stained in blood. My panty hose were ripped and my blouse was open. I knew what they thought, but they were wrong.

  “He collapsed,” I said. “This isn’t what you think. He just fell over. We hit the bed on the way down and my skirt got caught on the lever of the bed and tore. I hit the floor hard and he landed on me. He was too heavy for me, so we both fell over. He didn’t try to hurt me. I think he’s sick. He just fell over.”

  He looked at me with dazzling eyes filled with tears and fear. I looked at his name. His name was Jeremy. I smiled at him and wiped the blood from my mouth.

  “Someone get the doctor!” the nurse who was holding me yelled. The nurse’s name was Robert. I remembered Robert from school. He had been one of the football players that had made fun of me. We had worked together for a year pretending we didn’t remember each other, but you just don’t forget those types of things. Robert helped me out of the room and down to an empty bed. I hadn’t realized how hard I had hit the floor. As Robert helped me down the hall, I realized I was having trouble walking.

  I sat on the bed and Robert cut the pantyhose away from my leg. There was a huge gash on my leg, and as if acknowledging the wound made it real, I suddenly felt exquisite pain all over my body. I fell back on the bed.

  “You don’t have to lie for him,” Robert said to me as he cleaned my wound.

  “What?” I whispered. I felt faint.

  “He’s a monster. I know you care for all the patients here. They all love you. I can see how much you care, but you shouldn’t protect him. What if he hurts someone else?”

  “He’s not a monster,” I whispered.

  “He tried to kill his wife,” he said as he began cleaning the gash on my forehead. I looked up at Robert. Age hadn’t been kind to him. He was balding and a little overweight. You could see the memory of beauty in him, like a faded rose. His eyes were still bright and lovely. He looked down at me.

  “You are an amazing woman,” he said as he looked at me.

  “Hardly,” I answered.

  “You are. You are one of those rare people that care,” he said as he wiped the blood from my lips. Suddenly, I became aware of how close he was to me. I was aware that he was too close. He was hitting on me. Shit. I had no idea what to do. I had been hit on by maybe five men in my life and I never knew what to do when it happened. I felt vulnerable. He was so close, he could kiss me and I knew he wanted to. I had to get away from him, but there was no way for me to flee without pushing him over and crawling out the door.

  “Could you do me a favor?” I asked. “My boyfriend, Dr. Becket, works on the third floor. Could you tell him what’s happened?”

  “You’re serious about Dr. Becket?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “But he’s just a player. He’ll only hurt you,” Robert said.

  I wanted to push him back. I could feel his breath on my cheek and he was touching me. I knew he wasn’t dangerous. I knew he wasn’t that person. But I didn’t want him touching me.

  “I like to play,” I said firmly. I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him. I felt a small current pass through my hand, like static electricity and he jumped back.

  “Please,” I said. “He would want to know.”

  Robert shook his head and walked away. The ER doctor, Dr. Woo, walked in.

  “He did a number on you, didn’t he?” Dr. Woo said in his slight accent.

  “No,” I said. “It was an accident.”

  Dr. Woo shrugged. “You are going to need some stitches and I think your leg may be broken. I’ll do the stitches and then we’ll have to send you over to x-ray. I’ve already had one of the nurses call the psychiatric floor and Heather is on her way to finish your shift. Greg wants you to take a few days off after this.”

  Greg was the CEO. They had worked fast. It occurred to me that this was a sentinel event. This was a potential lawsuit and then some.

  “Why did you ask security to leave?” Dr. Woo asked as he jabbed a needle in my leg.

  “He seemed harmless enough and I can’t do a confidential interview with those guys in the room. They talk and they’re rude to the patients.”

  “Still,” Dr. Woo said. “You have to know that was a bad idea.”

  “Yes,” I said because I lacked the energy to fight. He was sewing me together like a ragdoll. I closed my eyes. I knew I was in trouble. I knew that Jeremy was in trouble. They didn’t believe me. I was a bleeding heart and everyone thought I was lying to protect a psycho. God only knew what they were going to do with Jeremy. They would probably commit him.

  I heard the door open and shut. I didn’t open my eyes to see who came in, but I felt Aaron’s arms around me. I felt him kiss my forehead and I leaned into his arms and cried. He stroked my hair while Dr. Woo fixed me. He helped me into my wheelchair. He walked with me up to x-ray and held my hand while the police interviewe
d me. He stood beside me while they photographed my injuries. He talked to the police with hushed tones after they were done talking to me. I could almost feel their whispers; they were so loud. There was a little group of them. The police, Robert, Aaron, Dr. Woo, and the security guard. I watched the police take Jeremy away. They had given me something for the pain, hydrocodone I think, and I felt myself begin to drift.

  “They don’t believe you,” Jeremy yelled to me as they pulled him away.

  I smiled through my split, stitched lip. “Don’t be afraid,” I said. “It’ll all be right as rain in the morning.”

  Diane wheeled me away from Jeremy and the police. She wheeled me to the nurse’s lounge and gave me a glass of water and sat down with me.

  “What the hell happened in there?” Diane asked. “You look like you were mauled by a tiger. He did more than fall on you.”

  “I saw it,” I said. “He was possessed. There was a demon with him. It was eating away at him. I fought with it. I cast it out and we both fell when it left. It was mean. I think some of the injuries came from the demon.”

  Diane was temporarily speechless. “You saw a demon?” she whispered.

  I nodded.

  “Jesus Christ, Phae,” she whispered. “You cast out a demon on your own?”

  I nodded.

  “I’ve seen covens fail at doing that,” she whispered. “Are you sure it’s gone?”

  I nodded.

  “They think he tried to rape you and that you are so soft-hearted or soft-headed that you are protecting him.”

  “I know, but I’ll take care of that.”

  “How?”

  “I’m going to use a spell I found in an old book. It looked easy enough. I’ll call upon the Lady of the Lake.”

  “Do you even know who that is? You’re insane, Phaedra. You’re going too far.”

  I shrugged. “Please,” I said with a grin. “What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like I’m operating heavy machinery.”

  Aaron drove me home. He was quiet. There were things he didn’t want to say to me. I knew I looked like hammered hell, but he was kind. He picked me up and carried me out of the car.

  “You’re going to slip a disc lifting me,” I said as he picked me up. “I’m not a delicate flower.”

  “You’re not a hippo, either. Aren’t you a psychologist? Have you ever thought you might have body dysmorphic disorder?” he asked as he carried me to the house.

  I thought it was funny that Aaron knew what body dysmorphic disorder was. Few people knew about that particular mental illness. It was a delusion most commonly seen in people with eating disorders in which the person believed they looked much different than they did. Skinny people looked in the mirror and only saw fatness. Pretty people saw only blemishes and moles. Fat people thought they were beautiful and thin.

  “I didn’t know internists read the DSM,” I responded.

  “I did go to medical school. There was a psychiatry rotation,” he said.

  I laughed. “I forgot about that,” I said. “I thought most doctors repress the psychiatry rotation.”

  “I tried, but I keep having flashbacks.”

  I smiled and kissed him.

  “You are nothing but trouble, you know that?” he said.

  “I’m a boring, middle-aged therapist. How could I be trouble?”

  “You’ve besotted that poor nurse.”

  “Robert? He called me “wide load” in high school,” I said.

  Aaron laughed. He set me down on the bed and kissed me and brushed my hair behind my ear.

  “Never do anything like that again,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you to some psycho.”

  “He wasn’t a psycho,” I said.

  “You have a good heart,” he said. “But you can’t save everyone.”

  “Don’t you try to save everyone?” I asked.

  Aaron pulled off my dress and washed me. He got out my nightshirt and pulled it down over my head and helped me under the covers. I felt loved. No one had ever done anything like this for me in any part of my life that I could remember. I broke my leg once as a girl and my father had said I needed to learn to be independent and had purposely left me to fend for myself. As Aaron dressed me, he answered my question.

  “I try to save everyone, but I know I can’t. There can’t be life without death. The Bible says that there is a season for everything, a time to live and a time to die. I have faith and I believe in Heaven and I know most of my patients go there and I would certainly never try to save a patient if he were dangerous.”

  “He wasn’t dangerous,” I said.

  Aaron gave me another pill and I took it with a glass of water. He sat down beside me on the bed and I drifted off to sleep gazing into his eyes.

  * * *

  I awoke a little after four in the morning. My entire body ached. The pain medicine must have worn off. Aaron was sleeping next to me. I sat up and looked around. I needed to get to the cabin, so I could help Jeremy. I tried to stand up, but the cast wouldn’t support any weight. I had to be quiet. Aaron couldn’t know what I was doing I hopped towards the door. It is impossible to sneak quietly and hop with a broken leg in the dark at the same time, especially if you are as clumsy as me. I bumped into the dresser and cursed in the dark before I decided to crawl on the door. Even that was a little tricky. My lack of coordination was definitely a problem.

  I stubbed my toe and said, “Crap,” quietly to myself. How can someone stub their toe when they are crawling? I finally made it out the bedroom door and to the top of the stairs, and by that time I knew there was no way in hell I was going to hobble-hop down the muddy trail to my cabin in the dark, I stumbled down the stairs trying not to break my other leg as I went and pulled myself into the kitchen. I found a few candles and some pretty stones and made a little altar on the ground in the moonlight. I had to do something about my damned leg if I was ever going to make it back out to the cabin.

  I lit the match and lit the candle. I went through the motion and the flames leapt and danced. Again my shadow man came and sat with me while I worked my magic. I wasn’t afraid of him like I’d been before, but I was nowhere near used to him. I put out my candle and he vanished.

  “What are you doing?” Aaron had walked in on me.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t think of any kind of plausible lie. I was sitting in my PJs on the cold kitchen floor next to a pile of rocks and candles. I probably looked like I needed to be admitted to the hospital.

  “Aroma therapy?” I said with a shrug. I knew it was lame as it came out of my mouth, but what else could I say? I couldn’t say that I was summoning spirits from the Netherworld to heal my leg so I could cast a spell to save a formerly possessed mental patient from a world of injustice. It is really pathetic when aroma therapy is the more logical answer.

  “Aroma therapy?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “My leg was hurting and I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “And you thought lighting candles on the kitchen floor might help?” he asked.

  “It couldn’t hurt, could it?”

  “How did you even get down here?” he asked.

  “Magic,” I said.

  He laughed. “You really are a strange woman.”

  “You have no idea,” I said.

  He picked me up again and carried me back to bed. He gave me another pill and I fell right to sleep. In the morning, there was no pain at all. Aaron was already up and in the shower. There was a pair of crutches next to the bed. I stood up and stretched. It was as if nothing had happened. My leg was better. I grabbed the crutches and walked to the bathroom at the end of the hall. I was going to have to pretend for the time being.

  CHAPTER 4

  SUMMONING THE LADY

  OF THE LAKE

  Aaron took me to church that day. I had forgotten I had told him I was going to go. Going to church would have been torture enough, but trying to maneuver heals and crutches at the same time while navigating an
ocean of southern Baptists was special torture. It was even more agonizing because I knew my leg was fine, but I had to pretend it was still broken. I looked like hell, because my face was pretty torn up, but I smiled and faked happiness as much as was possible. I wore a new long sundress that hid my cast beneath its folds, so I didn’t feel quite so conspicuous.

  Church was uneventful enough and I even managed to remain conscious through much of the ordeal. I listened and smiled and Aaron introduced me to his half-brothers and sisters. His mother was a pleasant sort of woman who looked entirely out of place. Her Welsh accent was so thick, I had to nod and pretend to understand. Real comprehension was impossible.

  After church, there was a family dinner. I had to talk to everyone in Aaron’s entire family.

  “Are you for Alabama or Auburn?” His step-father asked me in a pleasant enough way.

  Oh, how I hated that question. I hated all football questions. “I’m for Alabama,” I said.

  “Good,” his father said. “We’d have to throw you out, otherwise.”

  Listening to Aaron’s mother and stepfather talk was like deciphering ancient hieroglyphics. Her accent was so impossibly Welsh, I got lost navigating it and his accent was so thickly southern, I almost choked on it. I wondered if they understood each other or if they just subsisted on hand gestures and sex. They had six children, so I figured the sex might be their primary means of communication.

  Aaron’s siblings were all jovial and talkative. I sat quietly and ate and smiled, but I couldn’t wait to escape.

  “You have such pretty hair,” Girl Sibling #2 said. I couldn’t possibly remember all their names. There were just too many of them and they all looked essentially the same to the untrained eye.

  “So do you,” I replied with a fake smile. My face was starting to hurt. The stitches felt stretched thin.

  “It must be hard working with all those crazy people,” she commented. She was trying to be nice. I had to give her that.

  “I like crazy people,” I said. “Most of the time, they make more sense than sane people.”