Broken Spirits

by S. A. Hunter

  He had a calm open face. When Mary stepped in, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. She'd never seen him before.

  Gran waved her to the couch. "Mary, I'd like you to meet Dr. Harry Trudeau. He is an old acquaintance of mine. I've asked him over for help."

  Mary nodded to the man but felt on guard. Gran had asked a doctor over. What could a doctor do? He looked like a shrink. She flashed again to Mr. White's old doctor's bag. She'd let him read her energy to see if the Shadowman had hurt her. She’d trusted him. And he'd betrayed her and Gran. And now she was walking around with a thing that he had set loose. A thing that had attacked her, Gran, and Vicky. She’d trusted him. She shouldn’t have.

  Dr. Trudeau rose and offered his hand. "Hello, Mary. Your grandmother has been telling me about your problems." Dr. Trudeau had a faded Haitian accent.

  Mary let him shake her hand. It was warm and dry. She couldn’t read auras like Gran, so got no sense of him from his handshake. She looked to Gran for a clue about why he was there. "He's a psychologist," Gran said.

  “You're going to head shrink me?" Mary felt her resentment beginning to rise. She couldn't believe this. She was the victim here. She was being haunted by a monster. Talking about her feelings wasn't going to send it away.

  "No, I'm going to hypnotize you," Dr. Trudeau answered.

  That got her attention. "I don't zone out well. Has she told you what happened the last time I meditated?"

  "Yes, she told me. But I’m not concerned. Meditation and hypnosis are not exactly the same thing. Meditation is usually about a calming of the mind, but while hypnosis puts the participant in a calm, relaxed state, it is done with the intent of attaining a specific goal. Our goal will be unlocking your memories."

  “What memories?”

  “The ones created when the Shadowman controlled you.”

  "That doesn't make sense. The Shadowman has those memories not me."

  "I don't think so. From what your grandmother has told me, you were awake but had retreated. Your consciousness wasn’t aware, but your brain was still taking in data. We need to access those files."

  "I don't want to access those files."

  "Mary, it may be the only way to understand what's going on," Gran said.

  Mary grimaced and looked down. "I don't like this."

  "If it begins to stress or upset you too much, I will end the session. I only wish to help you and your grandmother."

  "Why?"

  Dr. Trudeau raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Why what, cher?"

  "Why are you helping us? Who are you?"

  "I told you. He's an old acquaintance of mine," Gran said.

  "Mr. White was, too," Mary replied. She knew that was a low blow, but she did not want to suddenly remember stealing Mr. White's hand. She still had trouble believing she had done it.

  "Dr. Trudeau is different. You have nothing to worry about."

  Mary wasn't convinced. She crossed her arms and stared at the far wall. Did she have to agree to this?

  Dr. Trudeau sat forward on the couch. "Mary, your grandmother helped my mother a long time ago. Some bad spirits were plaguing her. They were harassing her and causing her grief. Everyone said it was dementia, but I didn't believe them. I wasn't a psychologist then, if I had been, I may have agreed with them. She was displaying all of the symptoms, but I couldn't believe my mother's mind was deteriorating. I couldn't accept it. I sought out your grandmother for help. She listened to me and believed me when no one else would. She came to the house. When she met my mother, she could feel the spirits. She knew they were bad and had to be banished. I still remember my mother's reaction when Helena first appeared at our door. She took a deep breath and let it out, and her whole body relaxed. Then this big smile spread across her face. She said, ‘Bonjour, sorcière. Bienvenue chez moi.’ You have to understand. My mother had basically stopped speaking to anyone for a year. Even me. We would try to engage her, but she would just stare through us. The only sounds she'd make were these little whimpers or she’d scream in the middle of the night. It was heart wrenching. The way she immediately recognized your grandmother proved to me that I had made the right decision. She purified our home, chased out the spirits, and my mother began hearing us again, speaking to us. She lived for three more years, but it was in peace. If I can help your grandmother in any way, I will do it. I owe her a great deal."

  Mary swallowed and ducked her head. She couldn't argue with that. She balled up her fists and straightened. "What do I have to do?"

  There wasn't much preparation needed. Mary put away her backpack, used the restroom, took off her boots and lay down on the sofa. Dr. Trudeau sat on a short stool beside her. Gran stayed in her recliner. "Mary, I know you've probably seen stuff on television that claimed to be hypnotism. Maybe in cartoons. But that isn't real hypnotism. Real hypnotism is jut entering a calm, easy state. My job is to merely guide you while you think and help you find what you want. You will always be in control. I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. Understand?"

  She nodded. She was a little tense, but she was in her living room. There was still day light out. Dr. Trudeau and Gran were there. There wasn't anything to worry about.

  "Okay, Mary. I’m only here to guide you. You will be the one in control. Okay?” Mary nodded again. “Good. I want you to start relaxing your body. Close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere safe and peaceful. Then begin relaxing your body, starting at your feet and move upward. Let all of your tension sink away. When you’re completely relaxed in a safe, peaceful state, I’ll begin directing you to your hidden memories. Do you understand?"

  She nodded.

  "Wonderful. Close your eyes, and focus on my voice. Let the tension fall away. Just let your feet relax, and your legs relax. Feel your hips relaxing, and your waist relaxing. Feel your chest relaxing, and your arms relaxing. Your shoulders relaxing, and your neck and head relaxing. You can feel yourself relaxing now. You can feel a heavy, relaxed feeling coming over you. And as I continue to talk, that heavy relaxed feeling will get stronger and stronger, until it carries you into a deep, peaceful state. Sinking down, and shutting down. Sinking down, and shutting down. Sinking down, and shutting down, completely." She let her body relax to the point of bonelessness. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths. She was perfectly calm. She knew she was still in the living room with Dr. Trudeau and Gran. She was still self-aware, but she was in a dark warm place in her mind, completely relaxed.

  "Okay, Mary. You should feel completely relaxed now. Remember, you are in a safe and loving place. You are among those that care and love you. Let that love surround you. Welcome the love in and let it flow through you. Do you feel it?”

  She thought that she nodded.

  “Wonderful. What I want you to do is think back. Let's start with something simple first. Your grandmother told me about the male ghost that briefly possessed you. Do you remember that?"

  "Marvin," Mary said.

  "Yes, think back to just before that happened."

  "Marvin and Gladys were talking about curtains. I was supposed to tune them out. I focused on the big crystal like Gran told me to and then she was shaking me."

  "Okay, Mary. Let's focus on the in-between. You were focusing on the crystal. Focus on the crystal in your mind again."

  Mary's brow knitted. "I don't want to go away again."

  "You're not going away. You're staying right here. You're only remembering."

  Mary let the memory of the crystal form.

  "Remember what Marvin and Gladys were saying."

  "So boring," Mary whined.

  Dr. Trudeau softly chuckled. She bet he had a lovely laugh. It was probably infectious. "Yes, that was the idea, I'm sure. They were trying to make it easier for you to not listen to them."

  "Gladys was. Marvin was trying to trick me. He poked me to see if I was faking."

  "He poked you?"

  "He said."

  "Try to remember that."

  Mary le
t herself fall back. She remembered sitting in the chair, staring at the crystal. Gladys and Marvin had been talking. She’d let the words flow over her and felt her mind’s eye shut. She was effectively gone, her consciousness had gone away like she was asleep, but now that she was just remembering and not seeking her consciousness, she could hear Marvin and Gladys continuing to talk, which she repeated to Dr. Trudeau and Gran. "Marvin said, ‘And that teenage girl is funny looking. Why she gotta wear black all the time? I bet she'd look better in pink. With bows. Big, fat, bows in her bird’s nest of hair. Huh. Nothing.’ Gladys said, ‘Stop it, Marvin. She needs to concentrate.’ Marvin snorted. ‘Yeah, yeah, but I know she’s faking. And I’ll prove it.’ ‘How? Marvin, don’t!’ Marvin means to only poke me, but he leans forward and doesn’t stop. He falls into me. He slides over my brain and settles inside me. What the hell? What's going on?"

  "What's that, Mary?" Dr. Trudeau asked, but it wasn’t Mary who’d said that in her memory.

  "I look around the room. I don't know what's happening. I look at my hands. Oh boy. This isn't good. Gladys is alarmed. 'Marvin, where have you gone? We're supposed to stay here.' 'I’m right here.' 'Marvin?' 'Yeah, I think something's gone wrong.' 'Oh, dear Lord. Neil and Nina are going to be so upset with us. We're supposed to be helping.’ ‘I barely touched her.’ 'We need to tell Helena.' 'Yeah.' I get up from the table. My balance is off. I'm not used to my legs. I lurch to the beaded curtain and head toward the living room. I can see the back of Helena's head over the recliner. 'Uh, something's gone wrong.' She gets up and stares at me. ‘What’s going on?’ she asks. I just stare at her a moment. ‘Mary?’ I try to explain, ‘No, sorry. It’s Marvin. I didn’t know this would happen.’ Gran grabs me and begins to shake me. 'Marvin, get out of her! I’ll take a hammer to your coffee cup if you don’t. Mary, wake up!' There's a whooshing feeling. I blink my eyes. Gran's staring into them. ‘Mary, wake up! Come back!’ I blink and feel like I'm just waking up. That’s it."

  "That's good, Mary. You're doing really well. Let your mind go blank again. Sink back into the warm, peaceful place. Be surrounded by love. Tell yourself that everything’s okay. Remembering isn’t bad. Memories can’t hurt you. Breathe in and breathe out with the knowledge nothing bad happened by remembering."

  Mary did as instructed. She felt calm. She was also mildly impressed. She had remembered. The memories were weird though. They'd been written by someone else. She could feel herself begin to freak out by that fact, but she breathed in and breathed out to calm herself. She just had to remember. Remembering wasn't going to hurt her.

  "How are you doing, Mary?"

  "Okay," she said.

  "Are you ready for the next bit?"

  She knew what he was referring to. She went through one more breathing exercise to cement her calm. "What should I try to remember?"

  "Let's go back to the first night. Do you remember the first time the Shadowman called you?" Mary nodded.

  "I asked Kyle out on a date."

  "Oh? Good for you. But the Shadowman called and scared you, didn't it?"

  "Yes, I threw the phone across the room."

  "I can understand. Now remember the rest of that evening. Remember going to bed."

  Mary took a deep breath and concentrated. She'd done her usual tasks. Things she could do on auto-pilot without any thought.

  "Let all of that play through your memory. Don't skip anything."

  Mary let the memories play on her mental screen. She'd gotten ready for bed. She was in bed. She’d nervously thought about her upcoming date with Kyle. Would they have a good time? She was a loser for including Rachel, but she was glad she had. She needed a buffer. She could feel herself drifting off. She fell asleep.

  "Don't stop remembering," Dr. Trudeau said.

  Mary's brow scrunched. Why should she remember being asleep? She was asleep. How did someone remember being asleep? "I can't remember sleep."

  "You weren't asleep the entire night, though. Try to remember when you weren't."

  She let her memory keep flowing when something hazy started to form. It drifted up in her mind like smoke. It slowly solidified. Her eyes opened. She was in bed. It was still dark. She pushed the covers away and sat up. Only Mary wasn’t there. Her body did these things without her and the thing that was controlling her was not like Marvin. The thoughts that commanded these actions were twisty and prickly. They didn’t feel right in her head. "I don't like this," Mary said.

  "You're safe, cher. They're only memories."

  "I get up from bed. I go to the closet and put clothes out. I dress in the dark. I creep down the stairs and sneak past Gran. She's asleep in the recliner. I raise my hand and hold it over her face, but nothing happens. She doesn't stir. Soon, I’ll be able to pull silver from humans again, and I won’t be tethered to a human. I will be free. I get the keys for the station wagon and go outside. I get in the car and start it. I don't turn on the lights. I can see fine without them. I drive to Graham and Sons funeral home. I park the station wagon on the empty street and get out. All of the buildings are dark. No one else is around. I go to the back door. I turn my back and throw my elbow at the window. It cracks. I hit it again and a hole is punched out. I cover my fist with my sleeve and knock out the rest. I reach in carefully and unlock the door. I go downstairs to where they keep the bodies. I still don't turn on any lights. Mr. Graham is there. He wants to know what I’m doing. I ignore him. He can’t harm me. I may not be free, but the body I’m chained to will at least protect me. I enter a tiled room. On a metal gurney, I find Mr. White. He has been embalmed and dressed. The lights in the embalming room flicker on and off. They make my head hurt. I reach up with my not arm and make them burst. The only light now comes from small windows along the top of the walls that are just above ground level. But I don’t need the light. I don’t want it. Darkness is what I need. I go to a tool tray and pick up a scalpel.” Here Mary stopped and swallowed with a grimace.

  “You cut off Mr. White’s hand,” Dr. Trudeau supplied.

  She nodded. “I don’t want to remember it, please.”

  She felt a feathery touch on her own hand. “It’s okay. Keep going,” Gran said.

  Mary swallowed. She’d try to keep going for Gran. “Mr. Graham is still trying to stop me. He rattles the tool trays making many drop to the floor. It does not faze me. I take Mr. White’s left hand in mine.” Mary shudders. “It is so cold. I push up the sleeve of his dress shirt and suit jacket to expose the wrist. I brace it against the gurney and press the scalpel to his flesh and begin to cut. Mr. Graham is becoming desperate to stop me. He pokes and prods at me making my hand unsteady. I swipe at him with my not arm.”

  “What do you mean by your not arm?” Dr. Trudeau asked.

  “My not arm is part of my not body. It reaches further than my flesh arm. I push Mr. Graham away and resume my task. I don’t want to remember further. Please,” Mary pleaded again.

  “I know, Mary. I think we’ve heard enough of this episode. Sink down to your calm, peaceful place. You are safe and loved. Let the warmth wash over you.”

  She let go of the memory with a grateful sigh and sank back into her mind.

  “How do you feel, Mary?”

  “I’m okay now. I can go on. I don’t think any of the others will be as bad as that.”

  “Remember you are in control, and these are only memories. They cannot hurt you. When was the next time the Shadowman contacted you?”

  “At the movie theater.”

  “All right, fast forward to that night when you’re getting ready for bed.”

  Mary remembered. She’d been glum. She’d felt bad that Rachel was upset with her and knew she had to make it right. She’d crawled into bed with that idea firmly in mind. The next day she would make up with Rachel, no matter what. Kyle had been really supportive during all of it. If he hadn’t been there, she would’ve been even more depressed. He really was a good guy. She fell asleep comforted by that.

  “Like befo
re, Mary. Remember being asleep.”

  She did as she was told and remembered the warm darkness until her eyes opened. “I go to my closet and pull out the same clothes as before: the black jeans and dark hoodie. I dress mechanically. I take the keys for the station wagon and go outside. I walk to the back of the house. Tucked underneath the porch is a is plastic bag. It holds Mr. White’s hand. I pick it up and go to the car. I drive to Mr. White’s building. I park the car on the street and go to the door. I know this place. I had been here many times before. Had watched the old man. I know there’s a key on top of the door sill. I take it and open the door. I go up the stairs and place the hand on the kitchen counter. I take several towels and wrap the hand in them and begin to squeeze. The embalming fluid flows out. It fills the air with fumes. I keep squeezing until no more embalming fluid drips out.

  “I set the hand aside. I take out a huge pot from a cupboard and set it on the stove. I turn the burner on and begin going through the house, collecting candles. I dump the candles into the pot where they begin to melt. I stir the wax and pick out the wicks that float up. Once the candles are melted, I sculpt the hand into a loose fist and tie a piece of string around it. I attach the string to a wooden spoon and begin to dip the hand into the wax. I stand there and just dip the hand over and over again. It’s a long mechanical process. Once there’s a good layer of wax on the hand, I hang it up to let the wax cool and harden. I stand there and wait. Time passes. I don’t know how much. I think hours. Eventually, I take the hand. The wax has cooled and hardened. There’s a magazine by my feet. I pick it up and set it on the electric burner. It browns and smoke rises from it. I wait until a flame appears. I pick up more strewn papers and leave a trail of them for the fire to follow. The room is filling with smoke, and I begin to cough. I can’t help watching the fire for a moment. Being attached to a being again at least means I do not need to fear light. I always have someplace to hide. But I want my freedom. I deserve my freedom. The fire licks up the side of the stove. There’s so much trash around that the fire will spread quickly. I tuck the wax hand under my arm and leave. As I start the station wagon again, I can see the flickering of flames in the upstairs windows. The fire has already spread to other rooms. I drive back to the house. I tuck the hand underneath the porch. I go back inside and back up to my room. I undress and put my clothes back in the closet. I get back into bed and slide off the girl."