Deliver Us from Evil (35 page)

I, however, felt this voice was anything but holy. Frank described it as a deep male baritone, not unlike his own voice, and said it began forecasting events that later came true. For example, it told him that a friend of his was pregnant. “The voice even predicted that she'd have a boy,” the dry cleaner added. “And that was before she'd even told anybody she was expecting!”

After that, Frank found that when he'd meditate on the Bible, his mind seemed to open up and he could understand its passages perfectly. This filled him with pride rather than a reverence for God—definitely a sign that he was under the influence of a demon. By feeding his ego, the fiend was gradually luring him away from righteousness and into the sin of pride.

Over time, Frank began to trust the voice more and more, eventually reaching a point where he'd do nothing without its approval. This went on for several years, until his life abruptly took an upsetting twist. It seemed that the other people in his group didn't share his view that he was a “chosen one,” turned against him, and actually kicked him out of their group. In a bitter tone, Frank quoted another biblical passage: “‘Yet for all this they sinned still more and believed not in his wonders … though their hearts were not steadfast towards him, nor were they faithful to his covenant. Yet he, being merciful, destroyed them not; often he turned back his anger and let none of his wrath be roused. He remembered that they were flesh, a passing breath that returns not.'”

I took his ouster from the Jehovah's Witnesses as further evidence of diabolical influence, since I've seen time and time again how the demonic lead people down a path of isolation, to make them more vulnerable to possession. The evil spirit's goal was clear: to separate Frank from his support system so it could more effectively break down his will.

That's when he noticed that he wasn't just hearing the voice in his mind: It now spoke out loud, as if somebody nearby were talking to him. Frank refused to see that he was heading further and further in the wrong direction: Even during the interview, he quoted the Bible constantly, making it difficult for us to get the information we needed to help him. When Keith asked what kind of religious upbringing Frank had, the dry cleaner's answer, if you want to call it one, was this passage from Ecclesiastes: “‘Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days to come and the years approach of which you will say, I have no pleasure in them before the sun is darkened.'” Understandably, Keith didn't pursue this line of questioning.

Later in the interview, I saw Frank swell with pride at what he thought were clever interpretations of certain passages. He even went so far as to tell me how the demonic work according to the Scriptures, yet he refused to see how twisted this was. Instead, he arrogantly informed me that he had such “respect” for God and His authority that he refused to listen to anybody else. Never once, however, did he speak of “love” for God.

After being expelled from the Jehovah's Witnesses, he began putting on weight rapidly, even though he wasn't eating any more than usual. Being exceedingly vain about his appearance, he promptly consulted a doctor, only to learn that he was in excellent physical health, other than being about forty pounds overweight. He grew fatter and fatter, so rapidly that his clothes no longer fit him, even ones he'd just bought. More disturbing still, he'd find brand-new shirts and pants he'd never worn split at the seams, or ripped and tattered. JoAnn offered to show us some of this clothing, but I declined.

Hearing about the damaged clothing set off an immediate alarm bell for me, since I've seen this happen in many cases I've handled. People who are possessed will often find their clothes, bedding, or draperies mysteriously torn up. It's one of the Devil's many terror tactics. Frank's story got even worse: He started seeing horrifying visions of things that the voice said would come to pass, and he began to lose control over his bodily movement, as if something else were controlling him—another hallmark of possession. Finding his life harder and harder to deal with, the dry cleaner found himself filled with rage and pain about being thrown out of the religious group he loved, even though this had happened long ago.

Finally the voice that now ruled his life suddenly turned cruel, telling him that he was a miserable excuse for a man—too stupid and incompetent to handle anything at all without its “help.” That's when Frank turned to the psychiatrist in fear and despondency, terrified that he was going crazy, only to find that Prozac had no power to heal him. It was then that he finally opened his mind to the possibility that he was possessed and agreed to meet with me.

I spent about two hours probing every detail of this disturbing story, with an occasional question from Keith, and found Frank and JoAnn to be intelligent people who were clearly telling the truth. Not only was there no doubt in my mind that the dry cleaner was possessed by a demonic spirit, but after my investigation, I felt strongly that he was the victim of a curse by someone who wished him ill and used black magic to send evil his way. This, of course, is impossible to prove, since in most cases the victim is unaware that he or she has been cursed and probably doesn't even know it's possible. Most people don't believe in hexes—but you don't have to believe to be affected by someone else's malignant intent. As to who cursed him, I suspect that a member of his former religious group felt Frank had somehow done him—or her—wrong.

I wasn't at all surprised when Frank hotly disputed my theory about what brought the dark force into his life. It's typical for someone who is under the sway of a demon to resist having any light of understanding thrown on his problems, since these evil spirits can thrive only in darkness. I felt that while a curse may have made him a tempting target to the demonic, it was Frank's own pride and vanity that ultimately gave the evil spirit a foothold into his soul. Basically, this demon attacked through his weaknesses and preyed on his desires.

To put it another way, it was almost as if Frank were a drug addict: The longer he listened to the voice, the harder it got for him to give it up, even when its words hurt him. Now he'd become totally dependent on it. Yet to a degree, he was still resisting the spirit that had possessed him and had agreed to an exorcism. The question was, could he summon up the will to free himself?

*   *   *

It was a beautiful day for an exorcism, almost absurdly warm for December in New York. I carefully blessed my car with holy water inside and out, even the tires. Although I consider myself a good driver—as a police officer, I spend forty hours a week behind the wheel of a patrol car—I can't tell you how many close calls I've had driving my own car to exorcisms. Thinking of all the times I barely escaped collisions, sometimes during blinding snowstorms or on roads that had turned to sheets of ice, other times on lovely, sunny days like this, I sprinkled a little extra holy water around, to be on the safe side.

Now I was ready to pick up Joe, who'd volunteered to help—despite his sabbatical from the Work—when I told him that Keith was busy that day. The Warrens' nephew, John Z., would be joining us at Our Lady of the Rosary Chapel. As my partner and I pulled into the Bridgeport, Connecticut, train station, where the bishop had sent us to pick up Frank and JoAnn and bring them to his church for the exorcism, we said a brief prayer that the ritual would be successful. I always hate having a possessed person in my car, since the satanic spirit inside him might spring a surprise attack at any moment, forcing me to be hypervigilant for any diabolical drama.

At an exorcism a few years ago, I was sitting with the possessed woman and her husband in a pew, getting ready for the ritual, when the woman suddenly lunged at her husband, grabbed him around the neck, and started choking him. I slammed both my knees into the pew as I hastily leapt up to rescue him, while the other assistants showered the three of us with holy water. Just as I've often done on the street with deranged, drugged up, or violent criminals, I quickly subdued her. We stopped the murderous assault, immediately put her in arm and leg restraints, and began the exorcism.

To make matters worse, the ritual proved so long and exhausting that the bishop decided to finish it the next day, at the woman's home. As soon as he walked in, she sprang from the sofa at a dead run, clearly determined to strangle him. You'd think it was Superbowl Sunday, the way three of us tackled her right there on her living room rug. That stopped the demon's physical attack, and the exorcism proceeded as planned.

My body went on red alert when I saw Frank and JoAnn get off the train. Frank didn't look too dangerous, however: He was even more impeccably dressed than before—except that his designer sweater was definitely a size or two larger than the clothes I'd seen him in then. His wife was wearing a rumpled green sweatsuit with a stain on the sleeve. Both wore anxious, serious expressions and had little to say.

Leaving the parking lot, my Ford Thunderbird was suddenly jolted violently. I looked back and saw that another car had hit us, but miraculously, no one was hurt. Was it the supernatural—or just an incompetent suburban driver? Since neither car was damaged, we continued on our way to the church. I hoped that the ritual would be successful and not violent. Since each exorcism is different, I couldn't help but feel apprehensive, not knowing how this particular demon might attack. The one constant in our Work is that battling the Devil is extremely taxing to the mind, body, and spirit—and puts you at risk of all sorts of dangers.

Although I was now driving extracautiously, as we entered the driveway of Our Lady of the Rosary Chapel, where Frank's ritual was to be held, apparently I wasn't being careful enough and narrowly missed having a head-on collision with the Mother Superior. Seeing her in her traditional black habit, staring at me in astonishment through her car window, I couldn't help thinking
Boy, would I have gotten the ruler for that one, as I did so many times as a boy in parochial school! I can't believe I almost hit a nun!

Once we were safely inside the church, I finally felt calm and at peace, despite the battle that lay ahead. JoAnn remarked on the beauty of the church. Although I'd seen it hundreds of times before, my spirit was still refreshed by the sight of this peaceful chapel and the room-sized rosary that surrounds the chapel's pews, attaching to the figure of Christ on the cross that hangs behind the altar.

Frank was clearly nervous. Like most possessed people at exorcisms, he had no idea what to expect. None of us did, really, since each exorcism is different. I told them why we would be strapping him into a chair but didn't go into any details about the ceremony. It's not important for the exorcee to know anything about the prayers: They are for the evil spirit hiding inside, which is well aware of what will be taking place shortly.

“How long is this going to take?” Frank asked.

“As long as Bishop McKenna feels it should.”

Joe and I began to set up for the exorcism, while the bishop spoke privately with Frank. We placed a sturdy wooden chair in front of the altar and readied the restraints. JoAnn sat in a side pew, looking extremely pale and distraught. I went over and talked to her but could give no guarantees about the outcome. “It's up to the bishop and ultimately, to God now,” I told her. “But Frank also has a hand in it, because if he continues to view the demon as part of his life, forcing it to leave will be very hard.”

She squeezed my hand and thanked me for everything I'd done. “If it weren't for you, my husband wouldn't be here at this church right now,” she said.

Joe and I secured Frank firmly to a chair, using wrist restraints and a nylon strap around his chest to keep him from injuring himself—or others—should the exorcism turn violent. Wearing his black cassock, white surplice, and purple stole, the bishop glided silently into the chapel. After being in places that are so oppressive with evil, I appreciated this house of God more each time I came here.

But battle was imminent, and we began to prepare, stocking up on our supplies: having the bishop bless salt, incense, and saints' medals; filling five-gallon jugs with holy water; and saying prayers for our families, who waited for us at home, that the good Lord would protect them during this exorcism. Then we said more prayers to keep us strong for what was to come and for the ritual to succeed.

Finally it was time for the exorcism.

In Latin, the bishop recited the Litany of the Saints; calling upon each and every one of them to help free this man from the evil spirit. I sat next to Frank, watching his face intently. For the first half hour, there was no reaction at all. The pretense was very strong in this exorcism. Sometimes a demon shows itself quickly, and other times it hides for quite a while.

Either way, as an assistant, my job was to be ready for any sign of its presence, whether a strange movement from Frank or an indication that he was in pain. During exorcisms, certain areas of the body are most likely to be affected—usually the head or stomach, but occasionally the back. These major chakra, or power, points, often serve as portals of entry for the demonic. Sometimes the person will be shivering as if it's below zero in the church, even in summer; other people go into a seemingly comatose state or just sit there as if they are watching a movie.

Alert for any clue that the demon was being forced to come forward, I monitored Frank's breathing, facial expressions, and movements, aware of even the slightest quiver in his skin. I was intent on all the sounds of the church and watching all the assistants for signs they were being affected, just as they were watching me. I was also keeping an eye on JoAnn, imagining how hard it must be to sit to the side and see a loved one going through this when she was powerless to help him. If possible, I don't let family members assist in an exorcism, because I don't know if they are in a state of grace. If they are not, they might become possessed themselves, either briefly or long enough to need an exorcism of their own. They are also extremely emotionally involved in the case and can be targeted for that reason, since the demonic are drawn by negative emotions.