My Best Friend's Exorcism(67)

“Maybe I should find one of them?” Abby asked. “Like, an expert?”

Brother Lemon looked alarmed and lowered his voice.

“Come on now,” he said. “There aren’t any experts in the field of deliverance. Most people kind of make it up as they go along. Which means I’m as good as the next guy.”

“Maybe I should talk to your dad,” Abby said.

“You don’t want to do that,” Brother Lemon said. “He’s getting old. I’m young and strong, and that’s what you need. You’ve got to blast the demons out of your friend, have a good old-fashioned power encounter. We went up to a puke and rebuke in Spartanburg a couple of months ago, my daddy got so winded he had to take a breather in the middle. That’s not going to happen with me. Plus, I’ve picked up things. Like, you never wear a tie during a deliverance. Do that and you’ll wind up getting strangled, guaranteed. Happens every time.”

Abby nodded. That sounded like the voice of experience.

“So what do you do?” she asked.

“Well,” he said, “do you think she’d go somewhere with you? Like on a trip?”

“Maybe?” Abby said.

“Okay,” he said. “So we’d have to find somewhere to go.”

“Like where?” Abby asked.

“Somewhere private,” Brother Lemon said. “With a way to tie her down so she doesn’t hurt herself. Or us. And then we’re there for a few hours, praying over her. I’ve got some holy oil I can bring. Really, we just get in there and pry the demon out of her. It’s better not to use a hotel. People can get the wrong idea. Oh, shoot, there I go again!”

He laughed nervously.

“I think I know a place,” Abby said.

“Great,” Brother Lemon said. “We just have to get her there. There are all kinds of demons. There are demons of confusion, and nihilism, and self-harm, and anger, and pride. There’s demons of infant baptism, Roman Catholicism, Jewish mysticism. They all know different things, like some know about theology, and some know about nuclear missiles, and some know a whole lot about science. But the one thing they all have in common is that they’re sort of wily creatures. So we have to have a backup plan for what to do if the demoniac—that’s your friend—says yes, she’ll get in the car with you, then at the last sec she changes her mind.”

“Like, trick her?” Abby asked.

“Or drug her,” Brother Lemon said casually, looking off into the distance behind Abby.

“This is a bad idea,” Abby said. “I’m sorry, I—forget I came.”

“What?” Brother Lemon said, leaning forward and waving his hands. “It’s not a big deal. Sometimes, you know, you have to break a few eggs.”

“She’s my best friend,” Abby said.

“Not anymore,” Brother Lemon said, staring at her. His eyes were green and beautiful. “She’s a demoniac. One possessed by a demon. She’s a creature of Andras now.”

“What?” Abby asked.

Brother Lemon enveloped her wrist in an enormous hand and pressed it to the table, lightly but firmly. “You know why I’m talking to you like this? Being so open and up-front? Because I’ve seen who’s inside of your friend, and I’m scared for you. This demon wants to isolate you. It wants to drive everyone else away. Then, when the time comes, it’ll make the demoniac wipe herself out and take you with it. You won’t have anyone left to help you when that hour is upon thee.”

It sounded crazy, nuts, insane. But also very close to what was really happening.

“Demons are ideas made flesh,” Brother Lemon said. “Bad ideas. The one inside your friend is discord, anger, and rage. He is the bringer of storms with a smile like lightning, brother of owls and giver of nightborn intelligence. He is the cleaving that can never be healed.”

Abby didn’t dare to breathe.

“Have you seen a lot of owls around?” Brother Lemon asked. “Heard them calling at night? They sense their master is near. You think I’m lying? Then tell me, is your friend trying to sow discord? Is her goal to turn friend against friend, family against family? Does she spread lies and deceit that bring down punishment and wrath on the innocent while the guilty go free?”

Abby thought about Margaret. She thought about Glee. She thought about Gretchen reporting her daybook stolen. She thought about the notes Gretchen had brought Glee, and she knew that Gretchen had written them. She didn’t want to nod, but it was the truth.

“You are not alone, Abby,” Brother Lemon said. “I’ll be your listening ear, your strong shoulder, and at any time, you can walk away. But don’t let Andras make you silent. Talk to me.”

Tears slipped down Abby’s nose but she was determined to speak. It took fifteen minutes for her to tell Brother Lemon everything.

“Yeah,” Brother Lemon said when she had finished, handing her a tissue from his fanny pack. “That totally makes sense. All those things happened over Halloween, which is the number one day of power for Satan. Andras often pretends to be a good guy as a smokescreen for his own agenda. The whole communist hunts in the fifties? Those were Andras. He uses chaos and anarchy for his own ends.”

“He sounds bad,” Abby said in agreement, balling up the soaked tissue and trying to figure out how ruined her makeup was.