The Ghosting of Gods (17 page)

37
holy trinity

Disregarding the chaos around her, Chastity tilts her head and draws fingers through long strands of her streaked hair, pulling it loose from its braids. She sways.
Escape
, she mouths at me.

Nodding, I stumble backwards.

The vision of Elspeth’s empty body unnerves me. It’s not dead—her chest heaves up and down, as if the self-exorcism required tremendous physical effort. Or maybe the body struggles to stay alive with the ghost missing. I don’t know. I’m an exorcist of dwellings, not people. I want no part of this.

“Where is her ghost?” a little girl screams.

Ruth clutches the girl’s shoulders. “Go, hide. Elspeth veils her ghost. You won’t see it if it comes for you. Go, Delia, hide.”

Ava screams Leesel’s name.

I’m colliding with covenists as they scatter, crying and shouting, urging one another to hide. In the middle of it all sits one woman, her leg in a splint. “Don’t leave me,” she pleads, reaching out for someone to help her.

Leesel. Where is she? I shout her name into the pandemonium.

I glimpse Ava rushing toward a hut. Poe grabs her, pulls her, and they vanish among the delirious covenists who run in wild circles rather than heeding their own cries to hide. They spin, gasp, jump into the air, as if chased by unseen poltergeists. “Where is the ghost?” they cry out. “Where?”

Catching Hannah as she rushes to a hut, I ask her where Leesel is.

“She got away!” She slaps at me and I let her go.

Poe runs alongside Ava. Together they call Leesel’s name, but there’s so much screaming their voices are lost. Covenists begin
to chant one of their nonsensical formulas, as if numbers were a kind of spell to protect them.

one and none other
minus the ten thousand things
all even to omission of division
eclipse six six six
eclipse six six six

Covering my ears, I head for a cluster of huts to search for Leesel.

The sight of Ruth stops me cold.

Needles protrude from her mouth. She looms over Elspeth’s heaving chest. Pressing a finger below Elspeth’s ear, she checks for a pulse. It comes to me that the needles are actually syringes, so thin as to appear only as slivers of light. Spitting out one of the needles, Ruth drags it along Elspeth’s neck until finally sticking it in her throat.

Not bothering to remove the syringe once it has been used, Ruth pricks Elspeth with another needle, and another, spitting and pricking and plunging, until needles sprout like metal quills from every inch of Elspeth’s neck.

A young girl delivers more syringes to Ruth, then runs and hides.

Ruth moves to Elspeth’s hands.

Prick. Plunge. Prick. Plunge. Ruth shifts to Elspeth’s bare feet, until the body is pinned like an insect ready for dissection.

Ruth wipes sweat from her face. Upon seeing me she gives a wry smile and gets to her feet. After one step, her eyes widen and her body flies forward, as if she’s been violently tackled from behind. But no one’s there.

She slams the ground, landing on her face. She rolls over. Blood flows from her nose.

Ruth spasms.

It only lasts a few moments, and she sits up. Turning her
head, she looks right at me. Her nose is broken.

The covenists witness this scene from the doorways of their huts. Hushed silence descends. Every eye is riveted on the two females in the center of the village. Chastity sways, alert with calm presence. Ruth stands to her feet using jerky movements,
possessed
by a presence.

For Ruth…is now Elspeth. She walks in a circle, and with each step she gains better control of the body she inhabits until she walks smoothly. Gracefully. Using Ruth’s hands, she draws numbers in the air. Like Leesel does.

“She’s cursing us!” someone shrieks.

A branch on Saint Thomas’s tree shakes. Small feet dangle into view, and Leesel drops to the ground like a cat. Ava runs to her, pulls her behind a tree. Poe joins them. I gesture that I’m coming.

Elspeth stops her number cursing. I freeze, not wanting her to find me. She shakes her—Ruth’s—head, and crosses her arms, hugging herself. Walking near one of the huts, she slowly reaches out a hand to the women who cluster inside. “Do not fear,” she says in her own voice, using Ruth’s mouth.

The temperature seems to drop.

I shift to stay hidden.

“Believe in me,” Elspeth’s voice implores. “I am a blessing. If only you stop thinking bad things about me, the vision of this seer need never come to pass.” She clasps her hands together. “I don’t want to make you sleep. I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone, don’t you understand? I was lonely. And so I possessed.” She breathes deeply. Nods. “Yes, even now, though Ruth despises me, I am connected to her. This…is real.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ava motioning for me to come on. But I can’t move. If I do, Elspeth might see me. She might stop talking.

I’m transfixed by Elspeth’s words. She horrifies me with this ability and intention to possess others. And yet I feel empathy for her. I understand her desire to feel connected to others. I want to
feel connected to Emmy. I want the connection to be real. Now.

How can I judge Elspeth? I have not possessed, but I opened myself to possession with every exorcism I performed. I could tell Elspeth my spiritual secrets. Secrets I tell no one. Not Poe. Not even Ava.

A brave covenist pokes her head out of a hut. “And why didn’t you stop the possessions when you realized the insanity it gave to the ones you entered?” she shouts at Elspeth.

Elspeth drops her eyes. “I am sorry. Only once did I mean to do it, but…I developed…a taste for it.”

Hungry ghost
the coven whispers.
Hungry ghost hungry ghost hungry ghost…

Wincing, Elspeth grabs her neck. Ruth’s neck. “Jesse.” She indicates the body of Elspeth lying unconscious on the ground. “Please. Remove the needles.”

I hesitate.

“Please, Jesse. The needles hurt.”

I swallow. “You can feel them? But you’re not in your body.”

“They sting.”

“Why don’t you take them out yourself?”

She places her palms together, as if praying. “Because I want to see if you will do it. Because I want to see if you believe in me.”

“What is it, Elspeth, that I’m supposed to believe about you?”

“The chains must be broken. We must all be born again of the ghost.” She turns to me. “On your world, Jesse, it is called baptism of the spirit, is it not?”

I reach for my crucifix. It’s not there. I haven’t worn it in months. Not because I lost my religion when Emmy died, but because I needed a way to acknowledge my broken faith. My faith is still there though. If it weren’t, I wouldn’t be so afraid of dying.

Covenists cry out from their huts. “You are blind,” one of them anonymously chides Elspeth. Or does she address me?

Elspeth holds out her palms. “Are
you
still so blind? You hope for a rapture, wishing to melt your ghost, but the ghost is not evil…without crystals and chains, ghosts will be saved! Only the past is our enemy. It holds guilt. Sin. The Holy Ghost knows the secret of no chains. If we steal this knowledge, we need never suffer separation from one another, never cry. We will commit suicide. We will be so real.”

She’s insane.

But…I want to hear more of this reality.

She comes to me, clasps my hands in Ruth’s. “Jesse, with no chains to bind me, I will forget the past, and all that I have done.” Her voice catches. Wind blows Ruth’s red hair, pulling it back from her face, and I squeeze the hands in mine. Ignoring the body, I try to sense Elspeth behind Ruth’s black eyes. I try to
connect
to her.

“Help me,” Elspeth whispers, only to me. “My chains are heavy. I know I’ve done bad things. You understand, don’t you? Please help me. I can’t live with myself any longer.”

My scalp tingles.
I can’t live with myself any longer
. These words penetrate me, intrigue me. I feel odd. As if the burden of my body is lifted. “What does this mean, you can’t live with yourself?” I ask gently, though I don’t know where my question comes from. Another one comes of its own accord. “Do you mean there are two of you inside your body?”

She sobs. “I am three…with my soul missing. I’ve lost my
soul
. It could come back…but it must not…”

I hold her as she collapses against me. Somehow, I know her answer is not a true one. The heaviness of my body returns.

The way she emphasizes the word
soul
, I know she’s once again making reference to my religion, trying to convince me she’s in her right mind and not crazy. Trying to make me believe in her. What does she believe? That she’s the Holy Trinity, all in one? The pit of my stomach feels hollow. I feel no connection to Elspeth. I separate myself from Ruth’s body, where Elspeth
wrongfully resides.

“What did Ruth inject into Elspeth’s body?” I demand of Chastity, who observes this scene as she calmly sways.

“Medicine to disrupt Elspeth’s ghost. It will soon return to its host body.” She holds my gaze with her eyes that don’t blink. “I did not give the knowledge willingly.”

Elspeth grabs hold of me with Ruth’s long fingers. “Do you see, Jesse? My accusers are not as innocent as they pretend to be.”

Hannah approaches, her little legs shaking. She falls at Chastity’s feet. “Elspeth will make us sleep. Stop her, please! This is your fault. You healed her though she was polluted with death.”

Chastity shakes her head.

Crawling to me next, Hannah hugs my legs and turns terrified eyes up at me. “Please. Leesel loves you,” she cries. “Leesel told me your secret. It’s true. You’re an exorcist. Destroy Elspeth’s ghost and save us!”

Behind me, Ava curses.

“That is a lie,” Elspeth snaps. “Jesse is not an exorcist. He is a savior! Chastity would never lead me to…” She goes to Chastity. “No…it can’t be…your betrayal could not run so deep…”

Chastity whispers.
Sleep
. Ruth’s body collapses.

Elspeth’s body spasms.

The seer turns to me. We are exactly the same height, and she presses her forehead to mine, brushing my lips with hers as she speaks. “Elspeth is disturbed.
Run.”

38
flesh services

“Don’t look back, Jesse,” Poe tells me an hour into our escape. He keeps a close watch on me. What does he think? That I’m going to break away, return to the coven camp? This bothers me because Poe knows me better than anyone. Something in me wants to go back. But I won’t leave my friends.

Leesel leads on.

At last she stops to look straight up through tree tops at the albino sun, her breath puffing white in the cold air. She flaps a folded piece of parchment at me. “A map.”

“Map of what?” I barely glance at it. The forest is silent but for wind stirring. Tree limbs creak and pop, sounding like Morse code. I’ve developed a healthy fear of Morse code. My imagination draws skeletons in the trees, using knotholes to form gaping mouths and crooked limbs to make arms and legs that tremor in the wind. But more than skeletons, I’m afraid to see Elspeth.

The spiritual prodigy thrills me for what she may know.

This shames me. I’m afraid of knowing what she knows. Yet I want her knowledge. Is it a poisoned apple?

Even more than this, I’m drawn to Elspeth because she understands me. Like me, she has spiritual secrets. She has sinned. And she can’t live with it.

But she’s insane.

And then there’s Chastity…

“The City of Sacristies,” Leesel says, flapping the parchment at me again. “To find the Holy Ghost Incarnate. I don’t think he’s dead.”

“What makes you think that?” Poe asks eagerly.

Leesel ignores him. I repeat his question so that she’ll answer.

“Because Elspeth assured me the Holy Ghost Incarnate lives. My guess is he’s hiding in a sacristy. Where else? Hush. No questions right now. We need to keep moving, quick like bunny rabbits.” She takes my hand and Ava’s and puts them together. Without a word, she goes in front of us, leading the way.

I let go of Ava’s hand as soon as I can.

We hike. Poe and I take turns lugging the bag of provisions Leesel secretly packed for our escape. She snatched robes, food, flasks of water. Once she knew to spill her tea, she no longer wanted to stay with the coven.

But I think it was hard for her to leave Elspeth.

I need to stop thinking about the witch. I need to get home. Save Emmy. But if she can’t be saved, should I die as Elspeth suggests, and be with her that way?

I’ll have chains, like Saint Thomas.

Hours pass. Trees and more trees, barren and lifeless. Leesel tells me and Ava to keep quiet, but Poe gets away with his chatter because she can’t acknowledge his presence. She makes faces though. Occasionally, she chants numbers. She says it’s to keep ghosts away, to make them think we’re covenists. Leesel calls covenists the natural enemy of ghosts.

The moon rises early while the frozen sun bleeds its last light. “We’ll go ahead and make camp here,” Leesel announces. She tilts back her head. “There’s a nice break in the trees. I can see the stars and get a bearing on where we are.”

I help Poe gather wood to get a fire going.

“We’re here in this world for a divine reason,” Poe says, thoughtfully. “Have you considered that? For me, I’ve been inspired poetically. What does this world give you, Jesse?”

I don’t know how much to tell him. I’m hoping to find an answer to Emmy’s salvation from the past. I’m hoping to understand what ghosts are. I’m hoping to discover that God will no longer separate the dead from the living. But not in Memento Mori fashion.

“I’m not sure, Poe. Not yet.”

“That’s okay. I’ll pray for you.” He looks uneasy and asks me no more questions.

Leesel studies the sky and draws equations in the air. We eat biscuits and drink murky water from flasks stolen from the coven. Leesel shows me the map, but it’s more numbers than a sketch, full of strange symbols and dots connected with lines. I decide to trust her. I have strength for little else.

After dinner we huddle together close to the fire. “I’m afraid of hungry ghosts,” Poe confesses. He cracks his knuckles. Chants numbers. Leesel’s expression is strained, but she doesn’t comment. My guess is she can barely tolerate Poe’s incorrect equations.

Soon Poe’s yawning, and at last he falls asleep. As soon as he does, Ava, who’s been silent and withdrawn, pulls me so that I spoon myself around her. Little Leesel falls asleep in her arms. I hold both of them. It’s cold; I need to keep them warm.

The wind dies down.

I will myself to sleep.

My eyes are half-open when my brain registers the approach of a skeleton. Squatting at our fire, it holds its hands over the flames, shivering. Clods of dirt fall from its body. It’s recently unearthed.

The tunneler tips its head in acknowledgment of me. Rustling around in the small bag tied to its pelvis with rope, it withdraws a book and quill pen.

“What’s it doing?” Ava whispers, awake.

It settles cross-legged at the fire and props the book in its lap. Opening a page, it begins to write. The process is slow and painful. Once finished, it holds the book open and flat in its two palms like an offering. The tunneler grins—half its teeth are missing. And its bone joints are malformed. I recognize this one. It’s the one that led us out of tunnels to George and Bethany.

“Make it go away,” Ava says.

Leesel sleeps. Poe snores.

It shoves the book at me. It’s a journal. Seven words take all of two pages.

missionaries can get you home I arrange introduction

“Hell,” Ava says.

I signal for her to quiet. Energy flows into my body. Taking action is what I need to do. I can’t stand it otherwise. “You know where the missionaries are?” I ask the tunneler.

It clacks, once. I take that to be a yes. “Okay. Where?”

Looking away, it folds its arms over its chest in a deliberate manner.

I get it. “What do you want from us?”

The tunneler holds out its palm for the book, still looking away. I place the journal in its hand gently, being careful not to touch the skeleton fingers. Its divoted bones flip my stomach. Laboring to form letters, the tunneler tilts the journal in such a way that I can’t see what it’s writing.

Ava takes the journal.

“The whereabouts of the Holy Ghost,”
she reads.
“But really Saint Frankenstein.”
I open my mouth to speak, but Ava elbows me. “Fine,” she says. “We know where they are. Take us to the missionaries, and then we’ll disclose the location of both.”

The tunneler manages to look suspicious with a cock to its skull. It emits a series of indignant clacks.

I decide to be truthful. “We don’t know where to find Saint Frankenstein. But maybe we can find out. And we think the Holy Ghost is in the City of Sacristies. We’re looking for Him, too.”

The skeleton holds the sides of its skull and shakes its head from side to side, obviously conveying frustration. It moves its hands in sign language so fast that it’s a blur. Finally it calms down and hangs its head, stuffing its eye sockets with its fingers. Grabbing the journal, it writes and chunks the book in my face
before galloping off into the night.

The last entry covers three pages. Tunnelers apparently have trouble with fine motor skills.

my name danny will follow you closely seek me in graveyard if learn whereabouts saint frankenstein please family must obtain flesh services to blend in desperate help

Ava reads after me. “Do you think Saint Frankenstein is real?” she asks.

I lie on my side and pull her to me for warmth. “I don’t know what’s real,” I tell her. Exhaustion takes me as I mumble, “But we’re going home. Sleep now. We need sleep.”

It’s barely morning.

Leesel rocks my shoulder. “Now that everyone has had a good night’s sleep, I’ve got a plan,” she says. “I stole a supply of the amphetamine tea. We’re all going to drink it.”

Ava rubs her eyes. Bites her lip. The look she gives me says what I’m already thinking. Leesel’s still not herself.

“Is she crazy?” Poe sputters. “I’m not drinking any more drugged tea. Bethany’s was enough. It tasted terrible.” He makes a face as Leesel dumps a small amount of crushed leaves into a tin cup of water. “Do we have to do what she says?”

Leesel stirs the tea with her pinky finger. “We’re turning north, into the mountains,” she commands. “Elspeth will come after us. For Jesse. She wants him. We have to stay ahead of her, and the only way we’re going to do that is to keep moving. It’s all wilderness—it won’t be easy for her to find us anyway. Once we get to the City of Sacristies we’ll have to be careful. She’ll probably be waiting for us.” Leesel holds up the tea and takes a sip first. “We have no time to sleep.”

Elspeth wants me
.

I drink.