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

I reached the top, I was tired. And she was gone.

Since no one looking now, I pulled out my wings from my back and I went invisible as well as immaterial, making my surfboard light and no longer visible also. Almost immediately I heard a gasp to the far right. Looking there, I saw Deidre hiding, rather well concealed, while her imps stared lividly at me. They had nothing naughty to suggest, and apparently this scheme to hide was not their suggestion.

I decided to fly home as fast as I could. Something about that girl creeped me out—and very little did.

As soon as I got home, I dropped through the house roof into the garage, leaving my surfboard in there on the side rack and my damp clothes dumped into the laundry hamper before walking invisibly through the walls to the kitchen to get some food. I didn’t know if my mother was home or not, at least not until I heard my mother exclaim, “I think I hear something,” from the living room as I opened the fridge for milk after I had grabbed a bag of Oreos from the cupboard. “I think Eve might be home.”

“We didn’t see her come in,” an unfamiliar feminine voice responded.

“She probably used the kitchen door,” another female voice answered her.

But my mother’s imps screamed for her to end their meeting that very second and to push those two young ladies unceremoniously out the door. She was clearly panicking. I guess she did not expect me so early from surfing. I fluttered over to the open doorway and peered in. Sure enough, she was with those too lady missionaries again.

“Why don’t you invite her in?” the second woman said to my mother.

Sighing, as I clearly could hear my mother’s imps screaming in protest that that would be a bad idea and she should lie and say I was people shy (which was odd), my mother called out, “Eve, are you there?”

Her eyes stared plaintively at the doorway where I stood invisibly, begging me not to scare these ladies. My imps were goading me to just appear out of nothing. But I quietly stepped back into the kitchen and said, “Yes.”

And behind the wall I became visible again, retracting my wings into my back before stepping back into the doorway where everyone could see me. In my swimsuit and flip-flops only, damp still from the ocean with the Oreo package in one hand and the carton milk in the other, I ducked my head sheepishly and nodded to the ladies. “Hi.”

“Are you going to share that?” my mom asked me, pointedly eyeing the entire carton of milk.

“Oh, do you want some?” I said. I was more than willing to go back into the kitchen for glasses, anything to get out of that awkward situation.

“It would be polite if you would bring some out for us,” my mother said.

Blushing I nodded and quickly jogged back into the kitchen. We had avoided the awkward situation nicely. I returned with cups for all of us and set the cookies and milk carton on the coffee table. There was a plate of cookies there already, two of which were partially eaten. The ladies’ imps were shouting at them to stuff their purses with the Oreos… which made me wonder how often they bought cookies, or if they too were banned by their mission president.

I didn’t sit. I was too damp.

“So, uh, what were we talking about?” one of the ladies said, glancing to her ‘companion’ while discretely averting her eyes from my swimsuit.

“The spirit world, I think,” the other lady missionary said, her cheeks coloring.

“What’s that?” I stared at them as I felt chills go down me. “Like ghosts?”

My mother’s cheeks colored a little. “Uh, no dear. We are talking about the… what did you call it? The Plan of Salvation. They were telling me it is the place where we all come from before we are born. Their church believes that we existed before this earth and we will exist after. Am I right?” She looked to the missionaries to confirm.

Both ladies nodded, smiling at her.

“Yes,” one of them said, “Exactly. We all lived with our Heavenly Father before we came here and—”

“What about me?” I asked. “Did I live with a Heavenly Father before I came here?”

My mother paled.

“Well, of course,” the lady missionary said to me, smiling. “We all did.”

But my eyes rested on my mother. I was asking her what she believed. She knew what I was. I was not human. Did I have an immortal soul? Or was I truly one of the damned? Born to it. It always nagged the back of my brain. I had been ignoring it all this time, the subject had some up on occasion, but now it really bothered me.

Reaching out her hand to hold mine, my mother said, “I like to believe so.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “But you know what I am. How I was born.”

The two ladies looked confused. One opened her mouth to protest, but the other lady put her hand on her partner’s arm, holding her back for some reason. It was almost like she knew they could not answer this question. It was a question for my mom only.

My mother rose up and hugged me. “You are my precious daughter. And I believe you were sent to us as a blessing. And a just God would be eternally fair, though we do not understand His ways.”

“Life is a test,” one of the ladies blurted out.

I looked over to her, along with my mother.

The missionary drew in a breath and said, “Life is a test to see if we will stay true no matter what is thrown at us.”

I stared at her, blinking. Then it hit me, she was staring at me—my orange eyes, midnight hair, pale skin, wing-shaped birthmark on my back, and sharp fangs for teeth—and not judging me. She was even smiling.

For a second I thought she was crazy.

But then I realized she was just like Sarah McDonald, the welcome wagon of Cliffcoast High. Those people were just like that. Jane was right. They liked to look for the positive.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and said in a whisper to Mom, “Find out what their doctrine is on demons, would you?”

I then turned and left the living room, taking a handful of Oreos with me. I wanted to change clothes into something dry and I felt the need to vacate the room.

Those ladies were not there when I came down again. I don’t know what was said when I was gone, and I don’t know if my mother asked them about demons or not. But I do know that my mother sat me down and decided to have a talk with me about maybe not walking around the house in my bathing suit so much, but to put on a shirt a least. It had been bothering her for some time as I was no longer a kid and my bathing suit wasn’t working as well as a body covering as she liked. And seeing me there in just my bathing suit with those modestly dressed missionaries made it glaringly obvious. I had a feeling she was going to start sorting through Dawn’s and my closets to make suggestions on altering out wardrobe. That probably meant tank tops and our short shorts would get thrown out (not without a fight from Dawn, though). I was just glad ‘Mormons’ didn’t wear burkas.

When Dad got home and Dawn returned from her friend Brianna’s house, we made assemble-yourself-tacos and got drawn into a dinnertime discussion about the upcoming parade.

“So… should we all just go to Pasadena for New Year this year?” Dad asked, poking through his green peppers to get to the olives. He always ate his tacos funny. He assembled them, then took them apart as if doing an operation.

Dawn shrugged.

Mom sighed. We knew she wanted to visit Grandma Wilson for the entire Christmas break, but Gran did not want me near her ever again. Mom had intended to visit on New Year until this parade came up.

I shrugged and said, “Sure. Then maybe we can go to Disneyland afterward.”

Dawn lifted her head with hope. “That’s a good idea. Let’s do that.”

Dad shot her and me a weary look. We both immediately remembered that we no longer had money to go to Disneyland, or anywhere really. Christmas this year would also have to be thin, as would Thanksgiving. Mom had joked we should do Christmas Japanese style and go to KFC for Christmas dinner. Dawn and I did not think it was funny.

 Ducking, Dawn set down her taco. I could tell she had just lost her appetite. Her imps weren’t even suggesting she sneak ice cream after dinner now. I frowned, realizing this entire fiasco was my fault. If I had not been born a demon, my family would be accepted by the town and my father would still have a successful business.

“Well, maybe we could ask Rick for—” Dawn started to suggest.

“We are not going to ask for money from Rick Deacon,” I bit out before she could finish that thought.

Everyone stared at me. They knew that Rick would do anything for me if I asked. Anything. But I liked him, and I hated the idea of using a friend like that. And though Dawn had a major crush on him (and why not? He was cute and smart and she also liked that he was dangerous), she did not think it so wrong to lean on a wealthy friend for favors.

But my father nodded, agreeing with me. He didn’t like the idea of going ‘begging’ favors from our wealthy friends either. And for the first time I completely understood why the Johaansons did not like to take ‘charity’. We had our dignity. However, lately our family was starting to feel like everyone was looking down on us. We were strong, self-sufficient, entrepreneurial Americans for pity’s sake.

After dinner, I did email Rick, though. It was the usual communication, though this time I had question.

 

Rick, do you believe in ghosts? If you do, what are they like? There’s a house in town that everyone avoids, and they joke that it is haunted. I’ve never seen a ghost. I’ve seen imps and vampires, and met a leprechaun once and what I thought was an angel. I know you and your dad—so I know werewolves exist. And I’ve met witches because of that town of yours. I’ve even seen cursed jewelry and the walking dead. But I have never ever seen a ghost. What do you think?

 

I sat and stared at the computer, thinking about that. What would a ghost even look like? Were they like in Sixth Sense? Not knowing they were dead and looking like the way they had died? Could they see each other, or were they cursed to be alone? Or were they like in Beetlejuice? Weird comedic people stuck in a place and unable to move on? Or were they like in Ghost, a shadow of themselves and waiting for when they can cross over? Could they move things like in Ghost? Or were they more cartoonish like in Casper?

Ok… that last one…. I was getting tired. I turned off the computer and headed for bed.

I went out for a short flight that night. And I mean, I stuck around my neighborhood and stayed away from the Bale’s house and the mountains. And when I returned home for bed, I found a note on my pillow.

It was from Mom.

Picking it up, I read a scripture, but it didn’t look like it was from the Bible.

 

D&C 18:10

“Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God”

 

Under it was a scripture from the Bible that did know.

 

Psalms 147:4

“He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names.”

 

Then she wrote:

 

Make no mistake, you have a soul. And your soul is