A Head Full of Ghosts: A Novel (17 page)

“No, I didn’t! Mom, I didn’t.”

“Okay, okay, it wasn’t Merry. I was born with all of the universe’s information hidden in the infinite folds and wrinkles of my gray matter, and the information itself decides when it wants to come out and be known. Isn’t that kind of creepy? All that information just there already. How’d it get there in the first place, right?

“Like, I didn’t know it until you came in here, but now that I see you and it and everyone else, I suddenly know that the red book in your lap has a Latin title and is called
De Exorcismis et Supplicationibus Quibusdam.
It’s a liturgical book—whatever that means—revised and published by the Vatican in 1999.

“Or maybe. Maybe. Maybe I’m just a lost, confused kid, scared of what’s happening to me, to my family, to the world, and I hate school and I have no friends, and I spend my days sleeping with my iPod cranked up as loud as it’ll go, trying not to go completely crazy, and with all that time alone I’m looking shit up on the Internet, looking up the same stuff over and over, and I memorize it all because I’m wicked smart, because I have to fill my head with something other than the ghosts.”

Father Wanderly said, “I suggest that you no longer allow her access to the laptop until after the rite has been performed successfully.”

Mom said, “What? No. We—We can’t. She’s trying to keep up with some of her schoolwork online. She needs it.” Mom sounded as slurry and sleepy as Marjorie had when we first came into the room.

Marjorie said, “Dr. Navidson, I’d be really sad and unhealthy without any connection to the outside world, don’t you think?”

Dr. Navidson looked at my father said, “If you haven’t been doing so already, her online activities should be monitored.”

“You guys are no fun. You can look at my browser history. I haven’t scrubbed it. No bad stuff. And sure I downloaded the Tor browser but I haven’t used it, not really. Father Wanderly, I’m sure you’ve heard of or used Tor.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I am not very computer savvy.”

Marjorie looked down into her lap and started talking fast, so fast that I had a hard time keeping up. “Oh, well, Tor allows you to surf anonymously and go to sites on the Dark Net, which is a fun name for groups of secret sites you can’t get to on regular browsers. Journalists and dissidents and hackers use Tor to keep out of the government eye and avoid censorship. Criminals use it too: weapons, drugs, and Father Wanderly’s favorite, kiddie porn. It’s a diddler’s haven!” Marjorie giggled and pulled her bedspread up to her neck.

Dad swore under his breath. Father Wanderly was turned away from me so I couldn’t see his face.

Mom crouched down in front of me so that we were face-to-face, nose to nose. “Merry, maybe we should go. Do you want to go?”

I’m sure as an eight-year-old I’d heard the word
porn
and knew it was something bad, or if not bad, per se, then something not for kids, but didn’t really know what it meant. I certainly hadn’t seen any yet. So I wasn’t sure what Marjorie was talking about, but I remember the room feeling like it had just gotten more dangerous. I wanted to stay but didn’t say anything to Mom.

Marjorie held out her stop hands and said in her regular voice, “Stay,
Mom and Merry. Stay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was an easy cheap shot. We’ll be good from now on, mostly.”

Father Wanderly said, “We?” loudly, like he was a courtroom lawyer who had finally broken his witness. He looked over at Dr. Navidson, who just nodded and resumed typing on his laptop.

“Slip of the tongue.” Marjorie was twitching now. Her shoulders jerked up and down, legs spasmed beneath the covers.

“What is your name?”

Marjorie laughed for a long time. “I’m sorry, you’re being serious. Okay. Marjorie. Or Yidhra. It’s an old, old, old family name. No one uses it anymore.” She laughed some more. I’d never seen her so manic, so clearly performing, and performing in a way that gained momentum, like an avalanche. It was terrifying.

Father Wanderly asked, “Is your name funny?”

“Maybe. Anyone heard of me? I’m pretty sure Ken has.”

Ken wasn’t there. I wanted to go get him. I felt a weird pang of jealousy that his name would be brought up by Marjorie.

Father Wanderly said, “We’ll be sure to ask Ken.”

“
We
”—Marjorie stressed the word, wringing it out like a wet bathing suit—“consulted and have a few questions for you guys. Why is Merry here anyway?”

Dad said, “Because she loves you and wants to help.”

“That’s sweet. How exactly is she going to help us?” She slipped into a guttural voice, both high-pitched and sonorous, with a lilt of a British accent. It was the voice of Gollum. I thought for sure she’d gone too far, that Mom or Dad would call her on impersonating her favorite character from her favorite series of movies and accuse her of faking everything. But when no one answered right away, she said in her normal voice, “Okay.
So Merry’s here to be part of the show. The more the merrier! Got it.”

Father Wanderly said, “Dr. Navidson, have you seen enough?”

“Wait! Don’t rush us. Dr. Navidson, are you a Freudian?”

He ignored her question and closed his laptop.

“We have another question for you, Father. Help us with this one: How come the church recommends that witnesses should be present, like now and during the exorcism, especially if the possessed is a young woman? It actually says that in the
Catholic Encyclopedia
: ‘This is specially enjoined, as a measure of precaution, in case the subject is a woman.’”

Father Wanderly said, “I think it’s clear we’ve interacted far too much with the demon spirit already. John, I think you should stay here with me, and help try to settle Marjorie down for the evening. Everyone else should go downstairs.”

“He’s not answering our question about the witness. Hey, does anyone else think that it’s kind of icky? Who is it that needs the protection of witnesses in that scenario?” Marjorie thumped her puffed-out chest and spoke in a man’s voice: “The righteous, courageous, humble, holy man who might be tempted by the unclean perversions of a demon-infested slut?” Marjorie then poked fingers into her cheeks, making dimples, and she spoke in a baby-doll voice, “Or the poor, vulnerable, hapless, helpless woman? I’m pretty sure I know the answer, but Dr. Navidson, help us out here. Even if you’re not a Freudian.”

Both men stood. Father Wanderly made a
please leave the room
gesture at us with his hands. Dr. Navidson walked slowly toward the door. Dad, Mom, and I stayed rooted to our spots.

Marjorie tried one more time, this time in a pleading, near-tears voice that wasn’t baby doll, but sounded a lot younger than Marjorie normally sounded. “Father Wanderly, don’t leave. I’m sorry. Help me.”

“I’m not leaving. I will help you, Marjorie. That is a promise.”

“H-have you ever performed an exorcism before?”

“No. But I have been present at many. I’ve witnessed true horror, and true salvation.”

Marjorie scrambled from her sitting position onto all fours and reached out to Father Wanderly. “Tell me. Have you seen a demon before? What did it look like? Could you see it inside the other person, pressing out on the skin from inside their body? Did you see the outline of a claw, a wing, a face, of a monster in skin? Or can a demon be someone who looks just like me, so it looks like a person stuck inside another person? Does the demon inside leave any marks? Are the possessed marked, so you can tell who’s possessed and who isn’t? Do the marks look like this?” Marjorie sat on her knees and raised her arms so that we could see her midriff. Mom and Dad gasped. I covered my mouth. Red slashes and gouges colored her skin. They crossed and looped and overlapped, like someone was trying to scribble her out, as though she were a mistake.

Marjorie kept talking while the adults scrambled and shouted orders at one another. Someone turned on the overhead light and someone else ran to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth and bandages. I stood there and listened to Marjorie.

“Father Wanderly, have you seen a demon or evil spirit actually leave the body? What did it look like? Could you see anything? Did you see a wisp, like smoke over a campfire? Does the demon get sucked into a void, clutching on to the old, possessed body like a life raft? Or does it go quietly, like a child leaving her parents’ home for the final time? What if you didn’t see anything? If you couldn’t see anything, if the spirit was invisible, then how could you know if the exorcism really, truly worked?”

Mom and Dad gave her a glass of water and asked that she swallow some pills. They said it would help her sleep. Mom mentioned Dr. Hamilton
and the phrase “your doctor” to Marjorie repeatedly. They gently attended to her injuries. Marjorie let them guide her so that she was lying down and back under the covers. She was still talking but she was almost done. You could tell.

“After you performed the exorcism, how did you know that demon wasn’t still in there, hiding? How do you know it didn’t go in a hibernation state, quieting down to come out later, years and years later when no one would be around to help? Hey, how do you know if the wrong spirit left? What if you expelled the person’s real spirit and only the demon’s spirit was there to take its place? If I believed in any of that stuff, I’d be afraid that was going to happen to me.”

Her eyes closed. She rolled onto her side, away from the room and away from us. Her eyes were closed and she whispered her final questions. “Father Wanderly, how do you know if a person has a spirit inside their body in the first place? Have you ever seen that, at least?”

ALL WAS CHAOS WHEN WE
left Marjorie’s room.

Dad shouted angrily at Jenn the camerawoman to stand in the hallway and keep an eye on Marjorie for a minute. Jenn yelled down to Barry—he was already downstairs—that she wasn’t taking orders from Dad. Mom yelled at Dad to shut up, and quickly led me downstairs. When we got to the foyer, she had her cell phone out and she told Dad and Father Wanderly she was calling the hospital, calling Dr. Hamilton to tell him about the marks. Mom and Dad wrestled over the cell phone. He grabbed her arm and she repeatedly slapped his hand. Father Wanderly attempted unsuccessfully to mediate. Barry and Dr. Navidson then joined in trying to calm everyone down.

I yelled, “Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

They did stop grabbing and talking and arguing momentarily, everyone looking embarrassed. Mom told me to go to the kitchen and she’d be right there. I nodded and backed away slowly, not toward the kitchen, but into the living room, and as I did, I watched and listened for them to start talking again. Dad was first. He said he was sorry for grabbing Mom and he called her sweetie, but then he insisted that they couldn’t call Dr. Hamilton about this because he’d put Marjorie away again in the hospital and then she couldn’t be saved. He said they’d talked and prayed about this and had decided to believe in Father Wanderly and they had to see this through. Father Wanderly called Mom by her first name repeatedly, and told her that he knew what was happening with Marjorie was a parent’s worst nightmare, but that Dad was right about not calling. He told her that after what they’d just witnessed, he was sure that he would able to get the bishop’s permission and perform the exorcism soon.

Mom shook her head the whole time and said, “This is a nightmare, and we’ll never wake up from it.”

Ken was in the living room waiting for us. I said hi to him and he said, “Hi,” back sheepishly. Then he said, “Sorry.” I wasn’t sure why. I was going to ask him but Barry left Mom and Dad and beelined it over to Ken. He asked Ken if he’d watched everything from the trailer. Ken had. Tony the cameraman, Dad, and Dr. Navidson then swarmed Ken, who looked queasy, like he had my fake stomachache from earlier that morning.

Father Wanderly was still in the front foyer with Mom. I couldn’t hear them talking anymore. He shook both of her hands gently and left her in the foyer. As he passed he touched my shoulder and thanked me for my help, that I did great, and that he might need my help again. Then he, too, scuttled off to join the group that had encircled Ken, and he also bombarded him with questions.

Ken held up his hands for quiet. He told the group that he thought the demon name Yidhra was familiar when he first heard it while watching from the trailer but couldn’t recall exactly who or what it was, so he had Googled it. Yidhra was a minor demon in the fictional cosmic horror universe of the early-twentieth-century writer H. P. Lovecraft, a universe that featured nameless Elder Gods and tentacled beasties from other dimensions. Ken stressed that Yidhra was completely fictional and not found anywhere in Judeo-Christian or pagan lore. He did say it was interesting that in Lovecraft’s stories Yidhra appeared in a seductive female form.

Dr. Navidson said, “Marjorie spoke in a male’s voice when she was presumably under Yidhra’s sway.”

Father Wanderly said, “The demon is hiding its true identity. It always does until the end.”

“Why did she say you would know? Have you been talking to her, telling her about this stuff?” Dad said. He wasn’t quite yelling at Ken, but he was loud enough for Father Wanderly to say, “Easy, John.”

“What? No, I haven’t exchanged more than polite chitchat or hellos and byes with Marjorie since the earliest interviews when we first showed up. And to be clear, I didn’t know the demon by name. I had to look it up. I mean, yes, I am a big fan of Lovecraft the writer and all, but Yidhra was such a minor character I didn’t remember it.”

“So how did she know you were a fan?” Dad sounded like he was picking a fight.

Father Wanderly said, “I’m afraid we know the terrible answer to that.”

Ken shrugged, and said, “Look, she probably saw me wearing my Lovecraft/Miskatonic University T-shirt.”

Dad said, “Not likely. What fourteen-year-old girl would pick up on that?”

“Lovecraft is a pretty famous writer. She could’ve made the connection on her own. Or maybe she Googled my T-shirt, found Lovecraft and Yidhra on Wikipedia. Not a huge leap, there, I don’t think—”

Barry tapped Ken on the shoulder and shook his head. Ken nodded and stopped talking about Marjorie and Lovecraft and said, “I’m gonna go back to the trailer, okay, in case anyone needs me.”