Pushing Back The Darkness ...Part 2

We are eyes in the darkness
― Mladen Đorđević

We make an odd pair—Nate Granger and me. He’s a shrink and I’m an archeologist cum exorcist. Did I also mention I’m also a priest?

I guess we’re both familiar with the shadow side of the human psyche.

But Nate is officially my shrink, and that’s why I’m here today, sitting in his ostentatious office in a downtown Toronto skyscraper overlooking the lake.

I’m usually straight-forward especially speaking about my needs, but not today.

I’m being indirect and it’s bugging me, but Nate doesn’t seem to notice—or at least that’s the impression he wants to give me.

I decide to break the ice.

“I recently returned from Indonesia.”

He nods, “On a dig?”

“Yes—at a site about a 45 minute drive from Makassar, Indonesia’s fifth-largest city. There were almost a hundred prehistoric limestone caves.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

“It was—and disturbing. I saw some things there that have haunted me ever since.”

He leans back in his swivel chair, seemingly more interested in the view of the city and the lake than in what I’m telling him—but then, maybe it’s a ploy to put me at ease.

“I saw some paintings on those walls that made me realize those primitive humans were beset by all kinds of fears and anxieties—they seemed haunted by the spectre of evil itself.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I saw depictions of demons—one in particular—a huge dark shape with white eyes that seemed to bore right through me. I regretted looking into those eyes.”

Nate frowns and leans forward across the desk.

“But surely you’ve seen these images countless times before—why the preoccupation with this particular time and this particular image?”

“It’s hard to put into words—those other paintings were representations—this was an abomination. The natural contours of the cave wall were utilized to give it an almost sculpted form and looking upon it—or rather, allowing it to stare into my soul, defiled me.”

He swivels in his chair to stare back out at the lake, but seems to change his mind and suddenly swivels back to face me.

“You say it defiled you. How?”

“There was this subdued hissing sound that at the time. I supposed it was crickets or insects but it seemed to trigger a series of flashbacks and images of women I’ve known over the years.”

“Known—how—in the Biblical sense?”

I sighed. “Some unfortunately, I slept with—but most were temptresses for me. You know how it is with priests—so many things turn you away. That’s why I stepped down from being the archdiocesan exorcist.”

He takes the news in stride.

“Too hard on your flesh?”

“You might say that,” I replied acerbically.

“So, I take it that this oppression is ongoing. Is it limited to flashbacks and mental images—obsessive thoughts?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Why aren’t you sure?”

I could tell him directly, but I’m not sure I want to—after all, I’m still a priest, and somethings are just too intimate and embarrassing to confess—especially when it concerns demons and sex.

© 2019, John J Geddes. All rights reserved

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