Exorcize This - Julie Steimle (read e book txt) 📗

distinctly different from one another.

When the bell rang, I lingered there. Everyone came out, kind of staring at me funny, most avoiding me. As soon as the room was emptied, I went back in to talk to Mr. McDillan who was gazing dryly at me.

“Why do you make it your habit to interrupt my lessons like that?” he asked. “You terrify your classmates. They are still getting used to the fact that you are not human but also not a threat.”

I sighed, shaking my head as my classmates had two years already to get used to it. “I’m sorry. It’s just… Melissa’s imp just told her to kill herself. I just couldn’t—”

He went pale. Then he hugged me. “Thank you.”

I startled me. It startled me a lot actually, as two years ago this same teacher would have put a wooden stake through my heart.

He let go, realizing that impulse to hug a student was a bad idea. He pulled back a step also. His cheeks colored. “Sorry. Um… you disposed of it?”

“It will come back,” I said.

Frowning, he nodded.

“It also said something about her mother…” I shook my head.

He paled. “Oh no. What did you overhear?”

I shrugged. “Something about her mother not loving her. I mean, I know her parents got divorced, but is that logical? Her mom didn’t divorce her.”

My teacher sighed, shaking his head. “You are very lucky to have grown up in a stable, solid family, Eve. Divorce affects the children a great deal. The children tend to blame themselves. You have a friend who can explain this to you, right?”

Nodding, I sighed. Jane’s parents were divorced, but Jane was little when it had happened. But my friend Rick Deacon also had divorced parents. They had divorced when he was thirteen—and yes, he took it hard because his mother had left him and his father. But her reason was legit. Rick’s dad had not told her he was a werewolf when they got married, and she did not find out about it until Rick had his first transformation during puberty. And yes, she had rejected them both. Rick would be a good person to talk to.

Mr. McDillan then went back to his desk to collect up the stack of homework there that he had to correct. I was left standing there a little uncomfortably before I just went back to my desk to get my things so I could go home.

Jane met me outside. “There you are!”

With relief, I smiled at her.

Strange Things Afoot

Dawn and I had dance class after school. We walked with Jane to her home before we went to our class. Though we mostly practiced our Celtic dance, I stayed an extra hour with Dawn who was expanding into other types of dance. Coach Sheehan believed that Dawn was a future star for the stage—her Billy Madison so-to-speak, and Mom did not want our coach to manipulate her with promises that probably could not be kept. I sat near the mirrors finishing my homework while Dawn was practicing pirouettes and stretching her leg waaaaay over her head with leaps. Though Dawn was hopeful, our family didn’t quite have the kind of money for her to pursue this path without a scholarship. Not anymore.

Since the town found out I was a demon and not just a kid with rare albinism, Dad’s dental clientele had dropped and most people were going out of town for their dental work. Dad was still the best dentist in the area, though, and we still earned enough to survive when people wanted emergency work done—or simply lasting work. I was just glad our house was paid off. We did most of our fundraising for our extracurricular activities online after we realized fundraising locally by selling chocolate or candy would be a bust. No one would buy anything I sold. I was still the school’s majorette, though. No one wanted to lose the title we had when I was able to twirl three batons simultaneously while each was on fire.

It was quite late when we left the dance studio.

As Dawn and I walked home, we noticed the moving truck was gone from in front of the Bale’s haunted house, though the For Sale sign was still there. I halted, staring at it.

“Eve, come on.” Dawn tugged on my arm. “We’re going to be late for dinner.”

I continued with her, but I got the most peculiar feeling. People were definitely in that house. It had imps now. I could hear them. And their temptations were weird, if not a little shrill. And there was something else nearby. Something powerful. I never really felt that before when going by that place. The house had always felt cold, as if it were an ice-box with the door open. It always felt occupied in a way. Everyone could sense it. Everyone could feel it. It was like death breathing down your neck. I realized this was probably why everyone accepted that the house was haunted and not merely by the way it looked. But this new sensation, I had felt once before. Only once. But that was a Christmas a couple years ago—the Christmas when I had met a gray-winged angel.

But since I had no time to search out creepy angels near creepy houses, I listened to Dawn and continued on home.

We tiredly walked toward our neighborhood, leaving Limerick Road and the park going onto Kennedy Street for a few blocks, then turned onto Maple Street where the Bennettis used to live, then onto our street, hardly saying anything as both Dawn and I were exhausted. As we neared our house, the front door in sight, we saw two young women in conservative skirts and blouses with black nametags on step out the front door. Our mother stood in the doorway, waving to them. I had never seen them before, and for that matter neither had Dawn. And as we got nearer, we watched as the two ladies with name tags walked to a clean sedan on the curb. Their imps were screaming for them to do frivolous things like buy chocolate or postpone getting gas for their car because they were also tired and late.

Our mother saw us the moment we reached the edge of our property. Her eyes went wide and she pulled back a little. She went a little pale. Her imps were shouting for her to lie to us and say they were selling her something. Apparently they had been a secret.

As we walked up to the door, passing these young woman who smiled at us as they got into their car, the driver’s imps screaming for her to insist on a fast food restaurant rather than them going straight home to for a homemade dinner, Dawn stared back in horror at all of it.

Our mother drew in a breath and opened the door wider. “You’re home early.”

Dawn huffed, going in. “What were they doing here?”

I was amazed our mom had been able to keep this secret from me. I watched her avert her eyes from me as her cheeks turned pink. Finally she shrugged and said, “Ok. You caught me.”

Dawn and I both stared.

“Caught you?” Dawn snapped back. “You aren’t meeting with them, are you? Those were Mormons, right?”

I leaned back, taking off my sunglasses as a thousand little questions welled up inside me—the first one being: Was she unhappy in our church? 

Mom said, “Look, I was just curious. And I didn’t want to upset any of you.”

“Upset?” Dawn bristled, stepping back from her and folding her arms. “Why should I be upset? You’re just talking to a couple of cultists—”

“They’re not cultists,” I corrected for the second time that day.

She shot me a dirty look. “They’re not Christians.”

“They are Christians,” I corrected also.

Scowling at me, Dawn snapped, “Not according to Pastor MacDougal!”

I didn’t even answer this time. I folded my arms and rolled my eyes, huffing as I didn’t think he had the right to judge. Besides, when Dawn got into a mindset, it was impossible to change it.

Our mother sighed with a gentle head shake and said, “Look, I think I am capable of deciding for myself if those rumors are true or not. Pastor MacDougal’s divinity degree aside, I need more than just his opinion to make my mind up.”

Dawn’s mouth opened in protest.

“You know, the Johaansons are from that church,” Mom added.

I blinked as shivers ran down my arms. We hadn’t talked about the Johaansens in a while. The Johaansons were a family who lived in Grandma Wilson’s town—Mom’s hometown. We used to spend holidays and summers visiting Gran Wilson, up until the Christmas when she finally found out that her only daughter had adopted a demon (me). During our earlier visits, our family had become good friends with the Johaansons, who were a poor working class family. But I had never known they were ‘Mormons’. I just knew they were Christian. They had a picture of Jesus on their living room wall.

“Hanz is currently serving as a missionary in Denmark, just like those young ladies,” Mom said.

Shivers went down my whole body now. I had always liked Hanz. He was four years my elder, tall and robust with Nordic stock. A lean Thor in my mind. But Hanz Johaanson had seen me with my wings out once—that one Christmas. That Christmas I had stayed overnight with his family as Gran Wilson had kicked me out as soon as she had found out what I was. But I never got the indication that Hanz told anyone about what he had seen. The last time I had seen Hanz or any of the Johaansons was that Christmas morning. Our family had not gone to Gran Wilson’s home as a group since, though Mom still visited her from time to time.

“I just figured I ought to be fair and give them a chance to speak their piece,” Mom said. “You know—get the truth from the horse’s mouth.”

But Dawn stared sulkily at our mother, frowning as her shoulders slumped. “But why would you want to be see near any of those weirdoes.”

I rolled my eyes, leaving the room. If Dawn was going to be sulky about people being different, I was done. After all, I wasn’t human. Nothing could be weirder than me.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Dawn called after me as I went up the stairs toward my room.

“I don’t care,” I said, nearly at the second floor.

Dawn’s imps shouted for her to call me a few choice names, but she didn’t.

However, I halted on the top step when my mother said to Dawn in a lower voice, trying not to be overheard, “But really, Will suggested that I look into them.”

“What?” Dawn exclaimed, shocked.

I was stunned also. But then Will was Jane’s boyfriend. I wondered if perhaps Jane had sent the missionaries a referral to visit him. Was he investigating that religion also?

“He said,” my mother whispered lower, “if our local church has been snubbing Eve, then maybe the ‘Mormons’ will be nicer.”

I swayed there on the top step, wondering about that. To be honest, I wasn’t so sure. Jane had gotten a little distant lately due to spending so much time with Sarah McDonald, almost distancing herself from me. As