Fiction

Rough Exorcism

Patrick Tracy

Mama told LeeLee that Uncle Gill was possessed by the devil sometimes, and LeeLee knew it was true. They used to let Uncle Gill tend the kids, but he locked her little brother Mort in the cellar, and he used to touch her in naughty ways when he was drunk.

She hated Uncle Gill, even when it was early in the day, and he hadn’t been drinking, and he would smile and laugh and tell jokes. LeeLee thought that maybe he was possessed by the devil all the time, and the booze just made it show out real strong, like stars at the new moon time when the night was real clear.

The preacher used to say, “The serpent is subtle.” LeeLee didn’t used to understand stuff like that, about snakes and things, but she was starting to. Uncle Gill had a snake of fire in his belly, eatin’ him up from within. It’d take a good bite off of someone else if they stood too close.

LeeLee held onto one of the support beams as hard as she could. The old wood pushed against the side of her face, and there was no comfort. Down in the cellar, it was cool and smelled like wet dirt. The only light came from a tiny window high up on the wall, and she’d have been scared to death to be down there on a normal day. Right now, she had worse things to be scared of.

Uncle Gill was yelling at Mama, and Dad wouldn’t be home for hours. She just hoped Mort wouldn’t come back from the frog pond and get into the middle of it, not with Gill waving a pistol around and drunk as he was.

He’d already been smackin’ Mama around, and Mort would just try to help her, even though he was only nine. Poor Mort. Uncle Gill had always hated him anyway. He threatened to cut Mort’s peter off with a jack knife a bunch of times. That was about the time the little guy had started peeing the bed and having them nightmares.

“Don’t come home, honey,” she begged. “Don’t come home until supper time.”

The shouting rose ever higher, and LeeLee knew the devil was in Uncle Gill’s soul, hot as the Merryweather’s kiln where they baked the clay pots. LeeLee prayed to God to strike Uncle Gill down so he wouldn’t hurt Mama, but she knew it was a sin to wish harm on anybody, even when the devil had ‘em firm in the grasp.

That was the catch. Seemed like there was a catch to everything, like God made it real hard to win. You had to be clever and brave. Grandpa Ulysses always said stuff like that, before he got the angina and went off to heaven. They said he was real brave in the war. LeeLee didn’t know which one, but she guessed that Grandpa must have been, with them big scars he had on the side of his head. They used to go back near his ear and down under his collar.

“Was shrapnel that done it,” her Dad told her. She imagined shrapnel was something that happened in the wars. With all the crashing and yelling up above her, it seemed like the wars had come right home, and maybe there was some shrapnels up there, too.

LeeLee closed her eyes hard against it and knotted her hands until she couldn’t feel her fingers. “Please, God, maybe you can’t strike Uncle Gill down, but don’t let him hurt Mama or Mort. If he has to hurt somebody, he can hurt me. You know I cheated on that math test at school, and I had bad thoughts about Linda Hilchee down the street when she got that new bike. I know it’s all in your plan, but don’t let Uncle Gill hurt ‘em.”

There was a sudden silence upstairs, just like right before it’s about to rain real hard. LeeLee held her breath until spots danced like little bugs in her eyes. An awful bang shook the house as something heavy hit the floor right above her. She didn’t want to, but she peed herself, just a little.

Her mouth, much as she wanted to keep silent, started letting out this little hurt sound. Dust filtered down into the air like smoke too heavy to float. LeeLee crouched to the floor next to the upright. Tears burst from her eyes and everything got blurry around her.

It sounded like bodies rolling around on the floor, and something made of glass broke. A big, clanging crash sounded as the pots and pans came down, all together. Uncle Gill shouted, then the sharp crack of a gun going off shook the house. There was silence, then five more cracks. Just a few feet from LeeLee’s head, blood started to trickle down from the floor joists.

She figured that Uncle Gill had done Mama in, and it was like you took a big serving spoon and just turned it around inside her chest, coming back with her heart. Just like you do with the center of a cantaloupe melon. She felt so dumb, so useless. She just stood there, making her weak little sobs, and Mama was dead upstairs. The devil had won after all.

LeeLee wanted to reach out and let a drop fall into her palm, even though she knew she’d puke if she touched blood. Her stomach had always been weak like that. She wanted to be brave and clever, but it didn’t come to her like it was supposed to.

Often as not, she just hoped she could hide, sinful as it was. She’d probably never get to heaven and see Grandpa Ulysses, and she felt real bad about it. At least he’d have Mama to talk to now. She hadn’t been so cowardly as her daughter.

She heard footsteps, slow and halting-like. The blood kept dripping. The dirt couldn’t drink it as fast as it was comin’. She wanted to heave up the last bit of her bologna sandwich from lunch, but didn’t. The cellar door opened. LeeLee couldn’t see nobody for a minute.

She put the heel of her hand against her mouth, trying to shut herself up and stop bawling, but she couldn’t. Uncle Gill was gonna hear her, and he was gonna come down those stairs. She wasn’t ever going to see the sun again.

“I’ll be brave, Grandpa. It’s too late, but I’ll be brave. I ain’t gonna run or hide no more.” LeeLee crossed herself like she’d seen the preacher that went to the other church in town do. Her legs didn’t want to move, but she made ‘em anyway. She walked to the bottom of the stairs.

Mama leaned hard against the door frame. LeeLee saw her as a frazzled shadow on the sun from the back door, hair all pulled from her careful braids. Even just the shadow against the light coming in from the pantry door, just the outline of her—it was like seeing an angel or something.

“You okay down there, baby?” she whispered out, gasping. She was all out of breath, but didn’t look bad hurt.

LeeLee couldn’t speak at first. She coughed and could feel her nose start to run. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Your Uncle Gill ain’t never gonna hurt you or Mort again, okay?”

LeeLee brushed at her tears. “Okay, Mama.”

“Now I want you to come up the stairs and go straight out the back door. I don’t want you lookin’ into the kitchen at all. Come on, now.”

LeeLee did what Mama asked, and she had stopped crying by the time she got down to the frog pond. She had to keep an eye on Mort for a while. Mama wouldn’t want them underfoot when the sheriff came calling. She didn’t want Mort to see all the blood.

“Mort?” LeeLee asked. He looked up from his little fishing pole, just a stick with some three-pound test tied to the end. His cheeks were all pink and full of freckles from staying outside all day. He squinted, the sun reflecting little shimmers off the water.

“You eyes is red, Sissy,” he said. The therapist hadn’t gotten him talking real good yet. He could say his “R” sounds now, but most of the grammar lessons hadn’t taken hold.

“We’re gonna pray extra hard before bed tonight, hon.”

Mort blinked at her, his clear, brown eyes empty of any concern. “K, Sissy. I pray hard as heck.”

“Good boy.”

“What we prayin’ for?” Mort started picking his nose, and LeeLee gently took his hand away, shaking her head.

“Polite folk don’t dig at their noses, Mort. We’re prayin’ that the devil don’t get us, and that he won’t darken our doors again for a long spell. We’re gonna pray that there’s forgiveness, even for bad folks who done wrong.”

“We gonna pray for all that?”

She nodded. “Every bit.”

Mort shrugged, now digging at one of his ears with one little pinky. She didn’t want to be too hard on him, so LeeLee let him keep on. She took off her shoes and sat near him, putting her feet in the pond. A toad gave a big leap on the other side of the water, plopping down into the shady part below the bank.

“Sissy? What’s for eats?”

“I dunno, Mort. We’ll see.” LeeLee reached over and hugged him. He made a disgusted sigh, but didn’t squirm away. They were going to be all right now. The devil always came back, but Mama had done him in this time, and they were okay.