experienced priest is allowed the discretion to take what measures he deems necessary.”
“You think there’s a demon in my son, Father Sutherland?” Liz asked in a hoarse voice.
Father Sutherland sighed and nodded.
“Jesus Christ,” Ron muttered. “Just like the goddamn movies.”
Sutherland’s face tightened. “I would appreciate your avoiding the utterance of blasphemy until we’re finished.”
“Amen,” Danny said.
“And this bears no resemblance to the movies,” Sutherland continued. He paused. “Danny, would you please check on Casey? Make certain there is no change in his condition?”
“Sure thing,” Danny said, and was off immediately.
Liz said, “Do we need to sign something, Father Sutherland?”
“In this day and age, I should probably have you sign some sort of release form, a disclaimer perhaps. But I fear taking the time to draft a legal document would be to Casey’s detriment.”
Ron asked, “What do you mean, ‘his detriment’?”
“I’ve been present at four exorcisms, Mr. Hartman, one of which I believed to be a case of an untreated personality disorder, another a scenario in which a child was play-acting as the result of an unquenchable yearning for attention and her parents’ religious zealotry. In both of those cases, the exorcisms wrought disastrous results. The woman with the personality disorder—she was in her thirties and had for years gone untreated—sank into deeper mental and emotional turmoil and eventually died in an institution. Branding her disorder possession only exacerbated her condition. The child who faked demonic possession injured herself badly, soon became resentful of her parents’ mania, and descended into drug abuse. She overdosed on heroin at the age of nineteen.”
Liz’s voice was scarcely more than a whisper. “But you think Casey’s situation is different.”
Father Sutherland nodded. “In the two other instances, the affected parties fulfilled all the conditions of demonic possession. In one case, I assisted the officiating priest. In the second case, I performed the rites myself. In both situations, the victim of the evil spirit made a complete recovery.”
I felt a rush of relief at Sutherland’s words, but Liz, perhaps cannier than I was, only regarded him with trepidation. “My son’s case is worse, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid it is, Mrs. Hartman.” Sutherland crossed his arms, his eyes downcast. “In the two authentic cases to which I’ve been witness, the spirits in question were formidable. The risks in these cases were severe, and though I entered into those ceremonies with a reasonable degree of confidence, I could not guarantee the hosts’ safety.”
We waited in edgy silence. It seemed the temperature in the kitchen had risen by ten degrees, almost as though the heat emanating from Casey’s bedroom was flooding through the rest of the house.
Sutherland said, “Mr. and Mrs. Hartman, I have never encountered such a fearsome, malevolent presence as the one attacking your son. It uses languages not uttered for centuries, perhaps millennia. It displays unsettling mental abilities; its ability to penetrate the minds of others is nothing short of remarkable.”
Ron, who stood on one side of the island by himself, paced back and forth and looked like he might soon be sick. “So maybe we should wait then, huh? Call your bishop or cardinal…pontiff, whatever the hell you call your bosses? Maybe they could assist you.”
“We could wait,” Sutherland allowed.
Liz moved closer to Sutherland. “But you don’t think we should?”
“This is all surmise, Mrs. Hartman. There are no absolutes in cases like these. We can only act with good intentions and hope our decisions are the correct ones.”
“But what could happen if we wait?”
Liz gazed into Sutherland’s profound eyes, and from the way she began to tremble, it was clear that Sutherland didn’t need to say it. I again went to comfort her, and this
“You think there’s a demon in my son, Father Sutherland?” Liz asked in a hoarse voice.
Father Sutherland sighed and nodded.
“Jesus Christ,” Ron muttered. “Just like the goddamn movies.”
Sutherland’s face tightened. “I would appreciate your avoiding the utterance of blasphemy until we’re finished.”
“Amen,” Danny said.
“And this bears no resemblance to the movies,” Sutherland continued. He paused. “Danny, would you please check on Casey? Make certain there is no change in his condition?”
“Sure thing,” Danny said, and was off immediately.
Liz said, “Do we need to sign something, Father Sutherland?”
“In this day and age, I should probably have you sign some sort of release form, a disclaimer perhaps. But I fear taking the time to draft a legal document would be to Casey’s detriment.”
Ron asked, “What do you mean, ‘his detriment’?”
“I’ve been present at four exorcisms, Mr. Hartman, one of which I believed to be a case of an untreated personality disorder, another a scenario in which a child was play-acting as the result of an unquenchable yearning for attention and her parents’ religious zealotry. In both of those cases, the exorcisms wrought disastrous results. The woman with the personality disorder—she was in her thirties and had for years gone untreated—sank into deeper mental and emotional turmoil and eventually died in an institution. Branding her disorder possession only exacerbated her condition. The child who faked demonic possession injured herself badly, soon became resentful of her parents’ mania, and descended into drug abuse. She overdosed on heroin at the age of nineteen.”
Liz’s voice was scarcely more than a whisper. “But you think Casey’s situation is different.”
Father Sutherland nodded. “In the two other instances, the affected parties fulfilled all the conditions of demonic possession. In one case, I assisted the officiating priest. In the second case, I performed the rites myself. In both situations, the victim of the evil spirit made a complete recovery.”
I felt a rush of relief at Sutherland’s words, but Liz, perhaps cannier than I was, only regarded him with trepidation. “My son’s case is worse, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid it is, Mrs. Hartman.” Sutherland crossed his arms, his eyes downcast. “In the two authentic cases to which I’ve been witness, the spirits in question were formidable. The risks in these cases were severe, and though I entered into those ceremonies with a reasonable degree of confidence, I could not guarantee the hosts’ safety.”
We waited in edgy silence. It seemed the temperature in the kitchen had risen by ten degrees, almost as though the heat emanating from Casey’s bedroom was flooding through the rest of the house.
Sutherland said, “Mr. and Mrs. Hartman, I have never encountered such a fearsome, malevolent presence as the one attacking your son. It uses languages not uttered for centuries, perhaps millennia. It displays unsettling mental abilities; its ability to penetrate the minds of others is nothing short of remarkable.”
Ron, who stood on one side of the island by himself, paced back and forth and looked like he might soon be sick. “So maybe we should wait then, huh? Call your bishop or cardinal…pontiff, whatever the hell you call your bosses? Maybe they could assist you.”
“We could wait,” Sutherland allowed.
Liz moved closer to Sutherland. “But you don’t think we should?”
“This is all surmise, Mrs. Hartman. There are no absolutes in cases like these. We can only act with good intentions and hope our decisions are the correct ones.”
“But what could happen if we wait?”
Liz gazed into Sutherland’s profound eyes, and from the way she began to tremble, it was clear that Sutherland didn’t need to say it. I again went to comfort her, and this
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