Page 96 of Play Nice

As if my body knew of the horrors to come.

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The Exorcism

Father Bernard brought in silver crucifixes and began to place them around the house. Ruth sprinkled baby powder on the carpet downstairs and a line of salt at the top of the stairs in the living room, promising she’d clean up after. She hung a bell on the door to Cici’s room and another on the door to the closet. Then she closed both doors.

Jed had a lot of equipment, including cameras.

“Don’t worry,” he assured me, “the footage is only for us.”

We gathered at the dining table. I watched the girls through the sliding glass doors. Elle had picked up a paperback. Dee played solitaire. Cici drew—another picture of the house, her new favorite subject.

“All right,” Roy said. “The demon is aware of our presence. However, it operates on its own time. It will decide when to make itself known to us. While we wait, I’d like to establish some ground rules. Do not engage. Ruth, Jed, Alexandra, do not speak to it. Do not acknowledge it. Do not listen to it. Do not look at it. We don’t know how powerful it is yet. If it’s violent.”

I thought about what I’d said to Helen, how I’d told her that I didn’t think the demon wanted to hurt me. That what it really wanted was for me to hurt myself.

I wondered, sitting there at the table, silent tears streaming down my face, if that was true.

Any illusions I’d had of safety were suddenly gone.

“We shouldn’t underestimate it,” Roy said, “but it hasn’t shown itself to be aggressive thus far. Whatever happens, I’m here to walk you through it. Don’t hesitate to speak to me or ask me questions. Let’s join hands. And let’s begin. Close your eyes.”

I reached out for Roy. For Ruth.

Father Bernard began to pray.

“Lord heavenly Father…”

Roy held a rosary and muttered under his breath in Latin. “Ecce crucis signum, fugiant phantasmata cuncta. Rogamus te ut hunc locum in pace relinquas. Apage! Apage!”

This went on for what felt like hours. Until we were interrupted by the sliding door opening, to Cici stepping inside.

“Cici. No. Back out,” I said.

“It’s hot out there,” she said.

“Cici,” I repeated, my tone sharp.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m in here or out there. It won’t change what happens.”

I looked to Roy, to Father Bernard.

Father Bernard took a deep breath, opened his mouth to speak.

He was interrupted by the chime of a bell.

The sound echoed throughout the house.

I turned back to Cici, who raised her eyebrows at me as if to say, Told you so.

“Cici,” Roy said, giving up his chair. “Will you join us at the table.”

“Whatever,” she said, climbing onto the chair and smacking her sketchpad down on the glass. In her picture of the house, all the windows were blacked out.

The bell rang again.

Roy continued to mutter in Latin. Father Bernard continued to pray, his voice now booming.