“But I burned my husband,” I blurted out.
“That was an accident,” the doctor said. “You slipped. Maybe Edward’s not what you think he is, maybe you need to reevaluate you relationship.”
I hadn’t told him about the incident with the cigarette. I also hadn’t told him my age.
“How did you know?” I asked, getting nervous.
“Amanda, relax,” he said. “Dr. Flynn sent over your records, it’s all in here.” He picked up an overstuffed manila folder from the table. “See?”
“I didn’t tell Dr. Flynn about the cigarette.”
He smiled. “Of course you did. It’s right here in your file.”
“Let me see that.” I reached out my hand. The doctor pulled back.
“Confidential,” he said.
“I never told her. Let me see that.” My heart was racing.
The doctor scooted back in his chair. I stood up and reached for the file, but with his other hand he seized my wrist and held it, hard. I looked at his face. No smile. No friendly sparkling eyes. He was utterly, deathly serious. I stepped back and he eased his grasp on my wrist, not letting go completely until I was two steps away. I grabbed my coat and purse off the couch beside me and left the office.
LATER, THOUGH, as I walked around the streets of the tree-lined neighborhood, I thought maybe I had been foolish. After all, Dr. Flynn
could
have told him everything that I hadn’t. There was no reason to assume anything out of the ordinary was going on. Still, I didn’t like him. What was all that talk about becoming myself? He didn’t think I was crazy, and if I wasn’t crazy, I was possessed. The next day, I would ask Dr. Flynn for a different recommendation, or get one from a friend.
I walked through the park, embarrassed. The fact that I had run out of the doctor’s office like a baby didn’t exactly boost my self-esteem. What did I think, that the doctor was some kind of a voodoo priest? A satanist, maybe? Really, I was an idiot. I walked down a path that led into a little forest. How had I come to this? How had I—
I heard a rustle of leaves from the trees on my left. I looked around and realized I was deep in the little forest. I didn’t see another soul. I shouldn’t have been there but it was too late to turn back now. There was nothing to do but go on to the other side. I picked up my pace and walked farther. I heard another rustle—this time on my right. And then a laugh. A woman’s laugh coming from the clump of trees on my left, and then again from the bushes on my right. I started to walk quickly, and then run. The rustling of the trees and the woman’s laugh followed. I ran until I couldn’t run any farther and I had to stop, panting, to catch my breath. I looked around—it didn’t seem like I had moved forward at all. Had I been running in place? The trees shook around me and the laughter rolled off them like ripe fruit. The noise was deafening. A thin sweat saturated my clothes.
“Hello?” I said. “Hello?”
But I already knew who it was. I would fight her, I told myself. I would find a way to fight her off, destroy her if I had to, first thing when I got home I would tell Ed and—
The noise stopped. The forest was absolutely quiet, except for my own heavy breathing. The trees around me were perfectly still. My muscles burned. I could barely stand.
I felt a hand on top of my head. I felt it ruffle my hair and softly brush down my right cheek and back up again. It worked its fingers through my hair and massaged my scalp.
I started to cry. The hand started to push. It pushed me to my knees. Then it slid down to my lower back and shoved me onto my belly, grinding me into the rough concrete, until I moaned and gasped for air.
“Amanda,” she whispered to me, “I really don’t think Edward needs to know about this.”
THAT EVENING, Ed still at the office, I consulted the RESOURCES section of
Demon Possession Past and Present
again. The second closest spiritual counselor was Dr. Ray Thomas, director and CEO of the Ray of Hope Fellowship.
“Located off Highway 55 North at Exit 12. Make a right at Domino’s and then look for the Wendy’s—The Ray of Hope Fellowship is in between Wendy’s and Coconuts in the Newton Heritage Strip Mall,” the book read.
The next morning I drove out to Highway 55, Exit 12, and looked for a Wendy’s. The Ray of Hope Fellowship was a low one-story brick building recessed deep in the strip mall with a big sign in the lawn. WELCOME, the sign said. I parked in the lot out front and smoked a cigarette before I went in. It was a bright day and a group of boys were skateboarding in the Fellowship parking lot. MEGADEATH, their T-shirts said. METALLICA. ANTHRAX. I watched the boys and smoked for a few minutes before I got out of the car.
The doors to the Fellowship were open. Inside it looked vaguely like a church, although it just as easily could have been a corporate conference room. Rows of pews, or what could have been benches, faced an altar, or maybe a presentation stand. I walked up the center aisle. No one was around. Nothing seemed to be going on.
“Well, hey there.”
I spun around. At the other end of the aisle was a man as nondescript as the building itself. His features were symmetrical and plain, not unattractive but not particularly engaging either.
“You startled me,” I said. We walked towards each other and met in the center. “I’m looking for Ray Thomas.”
“That’s me,” he said, extending a hand. He wore a plain gray suit. We shook. “Let’s have a seat.” We each sat in a pew on either side of the aisle.
“So,” he said, loudly—the pews were a little too far apart for conversation—“Let me guess. You think you’re possessed by a demon.”
I smiled and nodded. His tone of voice put it all in perspective. So you think you’re possessed, it said. Don’t we all, from time to time.
“I suppose you took that quiz,” he continued. I nodded again. “And you answered yes to a few questions, and you got a little spooked, and now you think you’re involved in some sort of
spiritual warfare.”
He said the last two words with a flourish of his hands that implied hocus-pocus, circus tricks, voodoo. “Let me tell you, publishing that quiz was the dumbest thing we’ve ever done. I had no idea how many people there were out there with mental health conditions until the calls started flooding in. Not that you’re one of them,” he added. “Did you bring the book with you?”
I reached into my purse and took out the book, folded open to the quiz page.
“Now let’s take a look,” Ray Thomas said. We were both smiling, almost chuckling. He took the book and read my marked up quiz.
Are YOU Possessed by a Demon?
1. I hear strange noises in my home, especially at night, which family members tell me only occur when I am present. (I used to.)
2. I have new activities and pastimes that seem “out of character,” and I do things that I did not intend and do not understand. (Yes.)
3. I’m short and ill-tempered with my friends and loved ones. (Yes.)
4. I can understand languages I’ve never studied, and have the ability to know things I couldn’t know through ordinary means. (Yes.)
5. I have blackouts not caused by drugs, alcohol, or a preexisting health condition. (Yes.)
6. I have unusual new thoughts, or hear voices in my head. (All the time.)
7. I’ve had visions or dreams of personalities who may be demons. (Yes.)
8. A psychic, minister, or other spiritualist has told me I’m possessed. (Yes.)
9. I have urges to hurt or kill animals and other people. (Yes.)
10. I have hurt or killed animals or people. (Yes, definitely hurt, maybe killed.)
Ray Thomas wasn’t smiling at all anymore. In fact he was frowning.
“What did you say your name was?” he asked.
“Amanda,” I told him.
“Amanda, what we have here is a ninety to one hundred percent chance that you’re plagued by an unwanted entity. At the very least we can be one hundred percent sure there’s some entity interference going on here. How do you feel about a depossession?”
“Depossession?”
“We don’t use the e-word around here,” said Ray Thomas. “Fills people’s heads with all kinds of ideas. Depossession is a simple process of visualization, separation, and healing. It’s the most natural thing in the world.”
“Does it work?” I asked.
Ray Thomas smiled again, and nodded his head. “We have over a ninety percent success rate with our depossession treatments here at Ray of Hope.”
“What about the other ten percent?” I asked.
“Seven percent. Don’t worry about that now.”
RAY THOMAS took me to an office where I signed a release form saying that the procedure I was about to undergo was for entertainment purposes only. Then he led me into a small room behind the altar. The room was lit by fluorescent lights. There was a hospital-type bed made up with white linens and a blue blanket against one wall and a steel desk with a padded rolling desk chair against the opposite wall. He instructed me to lie on the bed. He sat in the rolling chair and scooted over to the bedside, then pulled a chain and turned out the overhead fluorescent.
“We start by visualizing a clean, pure space. Can you visualize a clean, pure space, Amanda?”
“Sure,” I said. I stared at the ceiling and thought of an empty white room. The room had tall windows with sheer white curtains, billowing in a sunny summer breeze.
“We visualize with our eyes closed,” he said.
“Oh.” I closed my eyes and the white room became much clearer.
“You’re in your clean, pure space,” he said. “You’re relaxing in your space. You’re breathing deeply”
I was lying on a feather bed on the floor of the white room in a pair of white pajamas. A little sunlight bled in from behind the curtains. The room smelled like honey and flowers. I was somewhat relaxed.
“You’re completely safe and secure and comfortable. Nothing can hurt you and you have no fears while you’re in your space.”
I felt moderately secure and relatively safe.