The shaman told me my house was in order
and had a good feel. There were many windows
but the curtains were closed and the mirrors were small
and there were places where no one was allowed;
not even myself. In the north there is a demon chained,
so long ago, I had almost forgotten he was there.
In the parlor dwells the puritan, a revenant with
altruist leanings - in service to humanity. Serious and sober,
anxious about eternity, serving up her sanctity on a
holy roller’s smorgasbord. In the backyard, nakedly slobbering,
neglected and chained, is the demon; leering and dirty-faced
like some idiot offspring kept inside a chain link kennel.
Bound in an intangible snare, she reined him in by will alone.
Her eyes blared like trumpets calling forth the archangels
when she realized what she had to do - to tread through
the valleys and stumble through the mine fields just
to let that demon go. Steeling against the surety of onslaught
against her probity, she knew that perfection was for saints
and she would never be so blessed; at least not as long
as this incubus held court on the lawn.
Her tentative approach set him to laughing, “whatsa matter -
you afeared?” he gurgled as she circled round the barricade
reckoning how to and whether she could. “oh, I ain’t gonna
hurt ya missy,” he cooed, “ya got no concern - ya see I been
beat down so long my legs are dried up and puny. Ya been off
having your way with life and I been tethered here.
So why hol’ me any longer if’n ya ain’t gonna use me?”
Many times had they played this game of taunts and jeers and feints -
many times had she abandoned him; his shrieks thundering as she fled
to her nice warm house, leaving him to shiver in the bitter night.
She looked at his matted hair, his crusted face and hands -
surrounded by the scraps she’d tossed out, hardly keeping him alive.
She couldn’t bear to put him down or hold him any longer.
He had to go - to be set free; it was now or never.
But she was determined to put this thing to rest - to watch
him scamper into the woods and never have to see him again.
She wanted to be free herself and knew he was the chain
that held her fast. She stood outside the gate lost in some dark
and fearful vision, until the demon rumbled and she commenced
to singing. He struggled to his feet and began to sway and when
the song was finished he smiled and unhooked the leash.
“Ya see? That’s all it took! But before I go I wants to beg a favor.
A bath and a decent meal and one night in a nice warm bed is all I asks
after spending eternity locked up here.” A silent nod was her assent
and she turned toward the house. The demon yelped, pushed her aside -
chortling and capering furiously. Smiling wanly, she followed him inside.
His joy shook the walls, mirrors splintered into glittering shards, lights burst,
and windows shattered - the very foundation seemed to crumble.
She quavered in the midst of this power and remembered
why she’d held him for so long. Now he was inside and
the walls were melting. He turned around, smiled and
nodded back - “OK missy, time for you to keep your word.
While I scrape off these years of neglect, you fix my dinner
and make my bed!” and he disappeared into the bath. Soon she
heard him singing, and silently, she set about her tasks.
Somehow, she didn’t begrudge the wraith, after all, she’d kept
him there for ages and he deserved some reparation for his misery.
And so, she surrendered the delicacies to conclude his fast and
cast a feather bed into the brightest suite. When the demon emerged
exuberant and sparkling like diamonds in the sun, she guided him
down a narrow hall and pointed toward the room that she had
furnished. Laid upon a table was the finest of repasts.
He looked at the sumptuous meal; the fluffy bed appointed with
clean white sheets and cashmere throws, and smiled. “Now missy,
this’ll go a long ways to heal the pain - now then...” he chuckled softly,
and regarded her slyly, “Seems you got a bad conscience, or else why
would you treat me so nicely, the one you ignored for years on end?
Why don’t you speak? Cat got your tongue?” She gazed upon his face.
Now that he was washed he looked quite decent, even through his scorn.
So she spoke her truth quietly - “Out beyond the fence is a lonely
garden shed - dilapidated and decomposing; it’s my old playhouse
and a little girl still bides there puttering with her toys. She’s been
there at least as long as you were held. Her favorite doll is sick,
full of holes and bursting with pain. I can’t heal her. No one can.
But I haven’t been there in many years - I’ve forgotten the way;
and she needs to come in now.”
The specter remembered the child, how he once had held her tight.
He recalled how she’d been dragged from him and banished
to that raggedy shack, while he had been left to rot in his fetters.
He looked at missy and hissed at her. “You’re the cause of this affliction
with all your fancy ways! What makes you think I’d help you, anyhow?”
She regarded him fleetingly and merely said, “It’s as much for you
as is for me. She needs to come home and we three need to be one.”
At that the demon growled low and burst out laughing again!
“Yes yes - it’s true enough, and I supposes I’m the one to
make it happen!” He danced around the room - his body gleaming,
his beauty expanding. She marveled at the transmutation as
he grew stronger and more magnetic. He had retained his power and
it was waxing by the second. He swept her up and the next thing
she knew they were standing outside the shed.
It was in a deplorable state, the door had long been missing
and toys were scattered on the threshold. Inside it looked as if
a twister had rolled through - tossing all awry. But now it was quiet,
save for the faint sound of a young girl sobbing. In the farthest corner,
huddled toward the wall - she crouched over a a dingy scrap of
mottled cloth; remnants of fabric and stuffing strewn around her.
“Whatsa matter, little girl?” asked the wraith.
She stopped crying, and without looking up, replied sadly,
“My dolly died today - she split apart from all the pain I stuffed inside
of her and now it’s everywhere.” He looked at the solemn woman
standing in silence beside him; then he spoke, “That was your pain
you passed on - it wasn’t as if she didn’t have sorrows enough of her own,
but she had to carry yours as well. Now the doll is beyond repair.”
The woman seemed to be entranced by the dream.
Luminous crystals tumbled from missy’s eyes as she gazed upon
the child - each that fell left a rainbow trace ere it splattered
onto the floor. Wherever they spilled, a fragment of the pain was
dispersed till the girl stopped weeping and began to brighten.
As more gems dropped, they puddled and floated the saturated
clumps of disappointment and anguish out the door. The floors
were cleansed and the child suddenly laughed aloud.
Then the sun rose in the east and the woman moved
into the west and the daemon took his place in the center.
The three became one - the wonder, the caring, and the laughter.
They moved inside my house my heart - threw down the walls
and built a home of joyful reflection and devotion
and walked in all worlds at once. That’s when
I understood what the Shaman said.
© 2001 Melissa Songer
