...continued from yesterday
Between us were the kitchen counter and the rack of knives.
The distance was even, Merla on one side, myself on the other. She came around from behind the microwave, taking her time with each measured step. Until this moment, there was sheer utter fear of what possessed Merla, but now I was pissed. She, or it, or whatever, brought this thing to my house. The gloves were off, and I was done running. I made a run for the knife rack, and Merla reacted exactly as I thought. She went for the knife rack as well. I didn't stop at the knife rack; I kept going straight forward until I drop-kicked Merla in the face full force with both feet. I caught her flush on the chin and knocked her out. There was no time to waste; I grabbed her up and carried her to my car, where I put her in the trunk and locked it. Immediately, I removed the license plates and all the paperwork that tied me to this vehicle. I even removed the VIN numbers too. I went straight to Hanauma point and pushed it off the edge, where I watched my old car plummet into the unforgiving ocean below.~
I'd been sick for a while, I was run down, and my resistance was low. I had a lingering cold that lasted for about a month before pneumonia hit me. After that, I was on my ass, deliriously going in and out of consciousness. It turns out that it was all a dream. No, Merla and her doting parents, who lived in a swank home in Hawai'i Kai, ever existed. All of that was born out of my pneumonia and the near death of it that racked my brain. Be that as it may, it was fucking real to me. I felt everything, physically, mentally, and emotionally. A Kahuna once told me that when your resistance was low, everything would come after you from all sides. Especially evil, she said. When it came, it would hit hard when you least expected it. That Kahuna was right about that, no joke.
~
A year later, I got a call regarding a case in Hawai'i Kai. It was a husband and wife who were well past retirement age. Their daughter, their only child who was the light of their life, had suddenly fallen ill and began exhibiting strange behavior like a dog. I immediately gave my contact the phone number to the archdiocese where they could reach a qualified exorcist. "I hope he can help this family," I said. "Good luck to you,"
"I'll keep you posted," my contact promised.
"Don't," I replied. "I don't have to know."
That was the end of the conversation. I returned to other paperwork that I had to catch up with. Bills, insurance, building maintenance, and such. I'd leave the five percent to the experts and the self-anointed while I stayed in my little bubble, far away from the world of the dead and living. When I'll be back is another question.
...Pau
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