World War S 1-2

Chapter 7

Then came her daughter’s sudden illness. Kathy was taken to the hospital with a life-threatening condition when she passed out at school. Sue had to make a decision to give up her career to help with a long-term sickness, or she could use white magic for the first time in her life—channelling the energy from the spiritual world to the physical—and cure Kathy.

Sue had never turned to white magic, she had only communicated with the spirits before. She felt that her family would be not be affected by the unseen realm if she were only channelling, but if she used their power, she feared she would bind herself to them.

But she finally did it. She pulled great-granny Salome’s book from the shelf and read loudly the ancient spells.

Kathy was better within a few weeks. But Sue couldn’t decide if Kathy’s improvement came from the medical care or from the white magic.

Only years later did she get the answers. Sidney Grimm, her most talented apprentice, told Sue when she wanted to take a longer break from leadership of the Mediumistic School, “You know they count on you on the other side, since they did everything for the recovery of your daughter.” If Sue had not had her spiritual abilities, she would have been frightened by Sydney’s remark; Sydney couldn’t know about Kathy’s sickness, as she had only come into her life much later … So, Sue knew that her magic was working, and she also knew that she had entered so deeply among the shadows, which had already expanded their boundaries. The boundaries had outgrown Sue’s body and annexed her family.

She dragged herself up the stairs, and then leaned against the bell to get in quickly, but there was no answer. She barely managed to find her keys and get in the house.

There was nobody home—nobody she could see. But she felt like she was in the middle of a huge crowd—she had to cover her ears not to hear their voices. The ghost army, which she had interrogated for many years, had now moved into her house. Hundreds of demons roared around her; they reviled and abused her.

She fell on her knees and started to beg. She had never prayed before, she didn’t even know how. Now, nevertheless, she asked God to forgive whatever sins she had committed in the past years.

Suddenly, she felt the building tremble; the walls shook, the flooring warped, and the chandeliers danced around in vicious circles. The spirits didn’t want to give her up.

Then the phone rang and everything silenced. The voices weren’t shouting their dirty words at her anymore, and the walls stopped shaking.

Maybe God is calling me, Sue thought, dead tired. That might be the reason for the spirits’ withdrawal.

“Yes,” she spoke faint-heartedly into the phone. She thought that God’s voice would be some kind of ethereal, deep male voice. But it was a feminine voice answering. It was Sidney Grimm.

“So, what did I tell you? They won’t just let you quit. Remember, you taught me all this.”

“But how?” asked Sue, puzzled. “How is it possible that you can hear them? I’ve just been fired from a very successful series because I couldn’t communicate with them. And guess what? I came home to a huge spiritual jangle.”

“Oh, no, I don’t hear them either,” laughed Sidney irritatingly, “but the Master does. He asked if you can get your act together and fly out to see him. He wasn’t really happy about what he saw on TV. If you’re tempted to think about your answer too long, he also added that your daughter is back in the hospital. You should have listened to the twenty-six messages on your voicemail. I understand that you didn’t care about the world outside of what was happening with your career in the past few hours, but your whole family is with your daughter. The sickness—that you made a contract with the other side about—just came back.”

“No!” shouted Sue desperately. She jumped up to grab her car keys.

“You understand everything, don’t you? You have to go to the airport from the hospital.”

“Aahh,” Sue shouted into the phone. “Who are you? Who have I been teaching all these years?”

“I’m only a servant. The servant of the same power you serve,” said Sidney, cutting the line.

Sue ran to her car, jumped in, and stormed towards the hospital. She didn’t know yet what she would do, but at this moment she was ready to sell her soul to the devil again.

*

Julie arrived late to her consulting room that she shared with another psychologist. Someone had parked in her reserved spot, but she didn’t have time to look for the owner in the nearby restaurant. If she called the police, it would take at least ten minutes for them to arrive, and Mrs. Wens, Sue’s patient, wouldn’t wait around that long. And then that insufferable woman would start their next session by calling Julie to account.

Strange that I’m afraid of Mrs. Wens, she thought, of my patient. Keith must have been right; that woman is the picture of evil.

“I wouldn’t have waited for you much longer on an average day, but we’re exceptionally happy today, aren’t we, honey?” the woman dressed in old-fashioned clothes said to Julie. Her neck was covered with a large scarf, as always; below that there was a puckered scar that looked like burned skin. She hid that patch because of its bizarre form— like ten human fingers, as if somebody had tried to choke her. These were Mrs. Wens’ stigmas, though there was nothing to be ashamed of.

Mr. Wens was a thin man with an unhealthy appearance. They came to see Julie because—according to Mrs. Wens—he was not able to live independently. He didn’t contribute anything of value, according to Mrs. Wens. Somehow it was true; the woman ran the family business, while the man was only an employee.

“Oh, you’re very kind, Mrs. Wens, not to hold a grudge against me.”

“Why would I, my dear? Not at all. You don’t mind either, Robert, do you?”

Mr. Wens looked at Julie with a puzzled expression then nodded, “As you say, my dear. Why would I have any bad feelings toward her?”

“You’re not the type of person we can be easily angry with.”

Julie got her third shock of the past twenty-four hours; Mrs. Wens, for the first time since Julie met with her, seemed to be kind. Although Julie had to be careful with her; according to the diagnosis, Mrs. Wens’s narcissistic personality extended itself over her husband’s character, stopping him from being himself. After several months of treatment, Julie realized that both husband and wife were sick. The man had tried to get Julie’s attention in different ways—he had disappeared from home for days. Then he had gotten drunk or overdosed on his drugs, but somebody had found him each time and brought him back to his wife. Mrs. Wens descended on him like a big, black cloud.

“We love Miss Bond, don’t we, my dear?” Mrs. Wens said, stroking her husband’s head. She adjusted his hair as if he were her five-year-old child. “We wouldn’t miss any of her sessions.”

Julie felt this blessing, and that she wanted to make the most of this moment.

“Mrs. Wens, I’m so happy to hear your kind words with me today. To what do I owe this honour?”

Mrs. Wens laughed confusedly.

“Oh, you know, dear doctor, I said to myself this morning, Why should I get up on the wrong side of the bed? Why should I argue with Robert about the fact he didn’t get the new hose tubes? I’ll just let myself be swept along in the flow of the day, and I won’t decide anything.”

“Really?” Julie was completely tuned in. “This is wonderful news.”

“It truly is,” Mr. Wens said quietly.

“Yes, my dear, I just wanted to ask you if you also thought it was a wonderful thing, but I see we’re thick as thieves, and you’re reading my mind.”

“I always read your mind.”

“So, do you see the world in a different way now, Mr. Wens?” Julie asked. She tried to ride the wave of this good flow, hoping it would drift them towards a solution.

“I have to admit, yes. This was the first time I didn’t want to put my head beneath the circular saw …”

Julie tried to smile, although she heard Mr. Wens’s struggling soul shouting behind his calm words. Up to now, Julie was the only one who had heard that cry, Mrs. Wens had been cold to her husband’s torment. She might seem to help him, but in reality she was binding him with yet another chain. The main characteristic of a narcissist was this continuous control and bonding. If she couldn’t enforce her authority over her husband, she simply abused and threw mud at Mr. Wens until he slit his wrists. If he managed to avoid a suicide attempt despite the insults, then he soon took up his yoke and obeyed. Thus, the status quo was stabilized again. Mrs. Wens’s extortive, vampiric soul got her reward, and the subjugated pour soul of Mr. Wens could feel that he had been saved from death.

“So that’s great news,” Julie grew excited. She thought that Mrs. Wens would make a confirming comment to override Mr. Wens again, but she stayed silent. She was sitting there smiling.

“Don’t you have any comments, Mrs. Wens?” Julie asked, provoking the woman to see if she really wanted to let go of the reins.

“Oh, what should I say? I’m happy! I’m happy that I don’t need to guide him. I feel that I can finally breathe freely!”

Julie started to feel much more comfortable. This was an unbelievable result after many months of despair and opposition.

“I have to confess that I’m surprised. I didn’t expect this. I thought you’d insult me to my face for being late by a few minutes and …”

“I’m not that evil,” Erica Wens said. An uncomfortable, bizarre smile flitted across her face. It reminded Julie of a clown’s smile, the kind that didn’t entertain but scared the children.

“I see,” answered Julie, trying to screw her face into a look that inspired confidence, but it only came out a cramped grimace.

They continued the session for another thirty minutes, talking openly about casual things. Robert Wens behaved as if he were born again; he could have independent thoughts and he didn’t only answer his wife’s leading questions.

“We should go now. This was really good,” said Robert, shaking Julie’s hand. This had never happened before either. The black cloud had let Mr. Wens enjoy the sunshine for once.

Julie saw them out the door. They smiled to each other, but Mrs. Wens stepped back to say something.

“I’m sure you want to know the real reasons …” she said.

Julie was astonished.

“You know, I was watching TV while we were waiting for you,” Mrs. Wens continued, pointing to the flashing TV in the waiting room. “I’ve seen a report about a medium, I think her name was Salome—I may not have her name right, you know I never watch this kind of thing. So, that woman apparently can’t speak with the ghosts anymore. People were ringing from all over the country, mediums, fortune-tellers, saying they can’t work. They’re afraid they’ll lose their jobs.”

“And how is this connected to our session?”

“I thought that if they could do it, I might also be able to calm my demons down.”

Julie stood in the doorway for a while, watching as this embodied evil left her office. Even when she was with her next patient, she couldn’t get Mrs. Wens out of her mind. That sick, last smile of Mrs. Wens’s warned Julie; the evil was sleeping now, but it could come back at any time.