The Evil Inside Her

by Joshua Allen

For three days the girl came in and said nothing. She

usually came in when other people were around and left before

Father Joseph could speak with her. He wanted very much to speak

with her. She was a strange girl: plain, she wore no makeup,

dressed in an ordinary fashion. Yet, something about her was

undeniably exotic and exciting. Though he would never have acted

on the impulse, Father Joseph couldn't help but find the girl

arousing, and couldn't help but be stimulated by her, think

about her long after she'd gone, dream, even fantasize about

her. He told himself fantasies not acted upon were harmless, but
he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with just how often he

was indulging himself.

Then, one night, she came into the sanctuary when no one

else was there, and confessed.

The keys jingled in the lock of the confession booth. Father

Joseph didn't like having to keep the confession booth locked,

but more than once, he'd gone to lunch and come back to find the

booth defiled in various ways. Something about its sanctity

apparently invited people to come in off the street and fill it

with every manner of bodily fluid. Rather than dwell on the

general rot of society, Joseph had simply taken to locking the

booth.

He sat down and went through the normal pre-confession

routine. He noticed that she was nervous, unsure of herself. She

had obviously not been to confession in a long while, if ever.

He wondered if she was even Catholic.

"I have had carnal knowledge, Father, of a young man," she

said at his prompting.

"I take it you are not married to this young man?"

"No, Father." She burst into tears, big wet sobs that took

Father Joseph by surprise.

"Well, the Bible teaches us that such an act is a stepping

stone down the path to damnation. However, such an act is not

unforgiveable. There's no reason to be this upset."

 "Many times, Father. So many times."

"Calm, child. You have come here because the Lord has put it

in your heart that you have sinned. You have done the right

thing in coming here. Now begins the process of atonement, and

purification."

"I think I may be pregnant on top of it all father." She was

crying harder now, which Joseph wouldn't have thought possible.

Joseph put his knuckles into the corners of his eyes. How many

times had he dealt with this exact situation? He knew what came

next. She would ask for pre-forgiveness for an abortion. And he

would end up granting it, because he knew that it wouldn't

affect whether or not they went through with the procedure.

"Have you asked the young man if he will do the right thing

and commit to loving you and raising the child together?"

"Teddy--he's so young."

Father Joseph's blood ran cold. "Did you call him Teddy?"

"Yes, that's his name, Father. Teddy. He's a good boy, but I

admit, Father, that he is younger than me by a few years.

Younger than the sort of man I should be pursuing, Father, I

know. But I--"

Joseph tried to wait for her to finish, but couldn't hold

back his emotion anymore. "What is the boy's last name? Perhaps

he is a member of my church. I might even be able to speak with

him for you."

 "No, Father. I thought a confession was in confidence."

"Are you Catholic?"

She hesitated. "Yes."

"And the boy?"

"Yes. He lives in the convent."

Joseph bit a knuckle. "I know him. Teddy Variasco. Am I

right?"

"Yes, Father. I thought maybe you knew him. I guess maybe

that's why I came after all."

"Yes. Yes, Teddy is a good boy. A golden-hearted boy. Oh,

what did you do to him?"

"Father?"

"What did you do to that poor boy?" He snapped the question

out louder than he intended. The girl didn't respond. He heard

her sobbing quietly, and he took a minute to collect himself. "I

apologize. This isn't about Teddy Variasco. It's about you and

your decision. What will you do? Teddy is a good boy. He will do

the right thing if you ask."

"I couldn't do that to him, Father."

"What do you mean?"

"Father..."

She took so long to continue that Joseph thought she had

decided not to say anything more.

 "Father, I did not intend to get pregnant. I did not intend

to seduce the boy. He's so young."

"You do not seem that old, child. No older than twenty or

twenty-five. Teddy is young, but nearly old enough to--"

"I am nearly thirty, Father! I'm old. I am ancient."

He sighed. Women. "I will talk to the boy. Return here in

two days. Until then, try to pray, reflect on what has happened.

Who is your patron saint?"

"Misery, Father. Misery."

* * *

Father Joseph entered the convent with hardly a word. He

made straight for the top floor and burst into the Mother

Superior's room without knocking. She was shocked for an

instant, no more.

She stood up in defiance. "I don't want to hear a single

rant from you, Joseph. I don't want you laying even an ounce of

blame on me."

"We agreed. We agreed, Kathleen." Kathleen was her name

before she became Sister Mary Frank. Joseph only used her given

name when he was feeling full of passion--either hatred or lust.

"Don't start. I have many responsibilities here, Joseph. I

can't watch the boy every single second of the day. And he is

not exactly the brightest bulb, either."

"How dare you--"

 Mary Frank passed Joseph and slammed her door shut. She

jerked him around and aimed a finger at his eyeball. "No! You

don't get to judge me."

"Kathleen, I--"

"My name," she drew herself up, making herself almost as

tall as he, "is Sister Mary Frank."

"Kathleen, our son got that girl pregnant."

She sat down on the edge of her desk, her rosary tinkled

against the wood. "No."

"She came to me and confessed. I think she came to me

because she knew my parish works closely with this facility. I

think she wanted me to help her more than in just a priestly

way."

She scoffed. "A priestly way..."

"Kathleen, let's bury our hatchet. What happened wasn't

according to any plan. We are biological creatures after all. We

strive toward perfection and toward purity. You and I slipped up

a few times. I used to smoke enough dope to choke a camel when I

was a young priest. I know you challenged the notion that women

couldn't deliver the Eucharist more than a few times."

"That's not a sin. That's not creating a baby."

"Some would say it is worse!"

They were both sitting now. His words sobered their

passionate anger. He had always had the gift of dousing passion,

Mary thought bitterly. It was just as well he'd taken vows of

chastity.

That was Kathleen's real regret. Not that she'd gotten

pregnant, not that her sisters had helped her conceal it, then

helped her birth the baby, and then helped her raise him. No,

her real regret was that she'd chosen this man to be the father

of her baby. She'd been just so desperate to shake up the

foundations. So eager to be herself. To be free.

"So the girl is pregnant. We do for her what you should have

done for me. We take her to a clinic and we get it taken care

of."

"Kathleen, no." He almost burst into tears.

"Yes, Joseph. You think Teddy can care for a baby? The boy

can barely read. He's a fool, Joseph."

"That's not fair, he has a learning disability."

"Oh? Tell me what the difference is?"

Joseph bit back his anger. He had put a huge burden on

Kathleen's shoulder all those years ago. She'd always done the

best she knew how to do. Teddy wasn't that bright, it was true,

but he'd also grown up thinking he had normal parents, smiling

and happy, and that those normal two people had died and were

smiling down on him from heaven. Joseph and Kathleen had never

told Teddy the truth.

 "Let's try to get them together. We will give them the

option. We will even give them forgiveness if they promise to

never let such a thing happen again," Joseph said.

"Agreed."

"Kathleen?"

She gave him a look sharp enough to pierce flesh.

"I am sorry. I should have paid the boy more attention. I

was afraid of being accused of favoritism, for one thing. Or

worse," he said.

"Joseph, you and I know the burdens of modern life. We know

about challenging the authority and futility of trying to change

the system. Let's just get past this and never speak of it

again. Once this mess is cleared, we will send the boy off to

finish his education. There is a fine technical program in

Chicago. He will learn to be a carpenter. It was our selfishness

to keep him here. He is no child any longer."

Joseph nodded in agreement. They had never verbally

discussed the matter, but usually the boys left the convent when

they were sixteen. Teddy was already a year past that. They had

kept him under the pretense that he was still trying to finish

high school, that his learning disability was holding him back.

Really, they were just afraid to let him go. How would a boy so

foolish survive in the real world?

* * *
 The girl didn't come until after dark on the day Joseph had

told her to return. He had nearly given up on her. A blizzard

had settled over the city and there was little hope she would be

able to find a cab or drive in the whiteout conditions. He was

on the verge of turning in when the door opened and the snow

swirled in. The girl entered, wearing a black skirt that barely

passed her thighs and deep red, almost burgundy, boots up to the

base of her knees. Her hair was twisted into a bun and she

clutched several books to her chest.

"Father," she said on entering.

Joseph watched her all the way to the dais, where she knelt

briefly and awkwardly, like someone not used to kneeling. She

sat on the front pew. She appeared to be out of breath.

"Tell me how you know the boy Teddy."

"I was asked to tutor him. He has struggles in school."

"I'm aware," Joseph said. "Who hired you?"

"The headmistress there. Mary something. I can't remember."

Joseph sat near her on the pew, but not too close. He didn't

dare sit too close to her. This girl emanated sex like a

radiator emanates heat. "Mary Frank?"

"That's it. Like that little Jewish girl that died."

"That was Anne Frank."

 "Yes. Sorry," the girl said, though she didn't sound sorry.

She also didn't sound out of breath, though her chest continued

to heave.

"Teddy is a very nice boy. However, Teddy is no

intellectual. He would not be a very fit father. Have you

considered..."

"Yes. But Father, I couldn't," she looked into his eyes with

desperation. "I just couldn't."

"Well let's consider the options. True, the church

officially frowns on the practice...but there are extenuating

circumstances."

"I think I came to you, Father..." The girl slid closer to

him. "...because I knew you wouldn't allow that option. You

would convince me to do the right thing."

"I'm a man of the world, young lady. I know how life really

works, and the misery of raising a child in horrid conditions."

"You are angry with me?" the girl asked.

"No. Of course not."

She touched his knee. "You know I would never hurt you?"

"What are you doing?"

"Just comfort, Father. I wanted to show you that a woman

could be a comfort. You don't have to tell anyone." She kissed

his neck. It was warm and soft and like nothing he'd ever felt

before.
 Joseph leapt to his feet. "Enough! What is wrong with you?

And in your condition!"

She crossed her arms and for a moment looked furious at

being refused. Then, slowly, she softened. She finally shook her

head and burst into tears. "I don't know why I do it, Father. I

can't stop myself."

"Nonsense."

"No, its true, Father. It's why I seduced the boy. I knew it

was wrong. It's why I do the terrible things I do." She bit her

lip. He could see that she had something important to tell him,

but was holding back.

He sat down next to her. No longer was she exuding

sexuality. Now she was a quiet, humble girl, one he could safely

wrap his arm around in comfort.

"Father, my parents were evil."

"Did they abuse you?" It was all he could think of.

"No, Father. They died before I was old enough to remember

them, but in my village, they were considered evil. They

were..." Again she hesitated. She took a deep breath. "They were

murdered, Father. By the people of my village."

"I don't understand. You sound as though you are from

America."
 "I am, Father. I was adopted very young by a nice older

couple who wanted a third child, but couldn't bear one. They

came to my country and adopted me."

He nodded. This was a common thing, wasn't it? People going

to foreign countries and snatching up the unwanted babies. There

was good in it, he had always felt, though the Church had

focused most of its energies on adoption within the country and

within the Church more specifically.

"Then how do you know they were evil? You say you were

adopted as a baby."

"No, Father. Not a baby, but too young to know better. I

went back, though. Very recently. I'd been having nightmares,

you see. Ever since I got pregnant."

"Of home?"

She shook her head. "Maybe. I don't know. They were horrible

nightmares. Men on horses with red eyes sitting tall in the

saddle, the saddles were made of dead bodies, though. The

pommels on the saddles were heads. The men held huge, inhuman

weapons. Swords and guns the likes of which I'd never seen."

"Did you find such horrid riders back where you were born?"

"No, Father. They were a peaceful region. They had avoided

wars and were quiet, stayed to themselves. But some of the

villagers, when they met me...they knew. They said I wore a cowl

of darkness, that I was cursed by my parents."

 Father Joseph laughed. "Nonsense. Can't you see how this is

nonsense? Superstitious--pardon me, but it must be said--

superstitious bullshit."

She snapped her head up, surprised at his language.

"That's right, I said it. Look, we live in a modern world.

Such fairytales are of an older time. A less enlightened time.

It is unfortunate that some people choose to cling to those old

memes, and let them exist to today."

"I don't understand, Father."

"Memes. Little packets of information. It doesn't matter.

What matters is this: those old stories only have power if you

let them. I admit it can be a difficult task to overcome an idea

that has been planted in your head, but through quiet

dedication, it can be done."

She was crying. "I'm evil, Father. That can't be willed

away."

"No, you are not evil. You can make different decisions by

training your mind to make them. It may take years, but it can

be done."

"Tell me how, Father. Show me."

"There's a place you can go. You will live as a nun

for...for however long it takes. When you are ready to reenter

the world, you can, but for the time you are there, you will

live simply, purifying your mind, training yourself to be a

better person. It's called the Haven. Not many know of it. It is

a place where you can learn these very lessons."

"And you'll let me in?"

He smiled. "It's not really my decision. I will recommend

you. They won't accept you in your...condition."

She clutched her belly. "I cannot give it up, Father. Not

for anything."

He put a hand on her knee. She revolted a little from his

touch. He thought about insisting, of showing her that even such

intimate touches could be performed without sexual overtones,

but he decided he should pick his battles. "Then we'll wait

until the baby is born."

* * *

The remaining months passed swiftly. The girl came to the

church nearly every day. Father Joseph watched her for signs of

regression. While she never again came onto him again, in

confessionals there were many, many signs of regression. At

first it was little things. She would come in confessing having

lusted for people she worked with and people she saw on

television. As she grew more pregnant, her sexual appetite

became overwhelming. She complained that she was in physical

pain at the lack of sexual contact. He encouraged her to hold

out, that Haven was around the bend, but he could tell that the

urge grew in her still.

 She had long forgotten about Teddy and that was really for

the best. As planned, Father Joseph and Kathleen sent Teddy to

Chicago to enroll in an apprentice program for carpentry. The

boy was good with his hands, if dull in the mind and tongue.

Father Joseph thought the boy would do well to learn a trade.

Father Joseph never heard more from Teddy during the girl's

pregnancy. Teddy seemed to have forgotten her too.

In the eighth month of the girl's pregnancy, Father Joseph

was finally able to convince the Haven to take her in. They

agreed that she was a worthy cause, a bright and virtuous young

woman who could shape and mold herself into brilliance if she

could only polish off the dark smear on her soul. Delivering

this news to the girl, he expected her to take it with tears and

joy. Instead, she immediately wanted to confess.

She had begun to have sex again.

Father Joseph was repulsed. The girl was plump with her

baby. The thought of men who would even want to have sex with

her sickened him. According to her, there were not only men

willing, there were men eager. There were men willing to pay.

She told him these things in confession, and he implored her

to restrain herself, to hold her body sacred. Her response was

always the same, "But Father, Haven will change me. I will

change then."
 It seemed he had given her license to sink to her lowest

point imaginable. What could he say? If he told the Haven of the

situation, they would surely decide to bar the girl from

entrance. If he threatened her, he might drive her even further

into despair. He comforted himself with the knowledge of the

baby that was coming and with that old idea that things were

their worst before they started to get better.

Then, as suddenly as the tide turns and sinks down and out

into the sea, the baby was born, and the girl was gone to the

Haven. The convent took the baby in, but Father Joseph was there

almost every day helping the sisters care for it. It was a

precious baby, perfect and smiling all the time. A little boy.

The girl named him Joseph. The first year of baby Joseph's life

was the happiest of Father Joseph's.

In December of that year, Kathleen came crying to him.

Something tragic had happened. He had to sit her down and soothed

her with tea by the bucketful until she was settled enough to

talk to him.

"It's Teddy," she told him.

"Is he not adjusting well to life in Chicago? Did he get

mugged or something?"

"He quit the program after only a month."

"What?" After a moment, realization washed over Father

Joseph. "You knew?" he asked.

 "He has been writing me letters. Joseph, I didn't tell you,

because I thought I could handle it on my own."

"What has happened? Tell me now," he said, his anger

boiling.

"He tried to go to the Haven...to be with that girl. But

they wouldn't let him in. I thought..."

"He went to the Haven? But it is in the mountains? How did

he even know about it?"

Kathleen bit her lip. "I told him only to give him comfort.

I didn't know what he would do."

Joseph laughed. "Unbelievable. I trusted you to raise our

son, and this is what you do?"

"Don't be angry with me. I only wanted him to know. I

thought he would be happy with the knowledge, like he was just

to know his parents were in heaven. I thought he would wait for

her. But Joseph, we underestimated Teddy's attachment to this

girl. I underestimated it worst of all. I thought when he told

me he was thinking about her, that he was wistfully remembering

their love. But it was worse. I've talked to the people at the

carpentry school, and they said he was obsessed. They said Teddy

was distracted all the time. They said he would cut himself,

accidentally, because he was longing for this girl. They said he

had a shrine. They said--"

 "Enough. Enough of this. So he has gone to the Haven.

There's a town nearby. What is it...Newberry? We'll fly there

and we'll bring him back."

She burst into tears. "He went there, but he didn't stay in

town. He begged to be let in, but they wouldn't let him. He

begged to see the girl, but she refused to see him. She was

trying, I suppose, to protect him and herself."

"What are you saying, Kathleen?"

"They thought they were teaching him a lesson, making him

stay outside all night in the blizzard. They thought he would

give up."

"Kathleen..." Father Joseph felt his world collapsing around

him.

"Joseph, Teddy is dead!"

* * *

From that day on, Father Joseph went to the convent less and

less often to see baby Joseph. He told himself it was in order

to avoid Kathleen, but that was a lie. The truth was that the

girl's words kept echoing in his head. She had claimed to be

evil. She had worked her witchcraft on his son and now his poor,

stupid son was dead. And every time he looked at that baby, he

wondered: was the baby evil too?

It was a ridiculous thought, but one he couldn't shake. The

child grew and learned to walk and did all those things that
normal kids did. He did the things Teddy would never again be

able to do. But there were incidents that stoked the fire of his

fear. The boy didn't get along with the other children. Even

though he was barely a toddler, he fought viciously with his

classmates. He had to have his own supervisor who followed him

around because he liked to hurt people, even though he was a

child. He would grab the flesh of his classmates' arms or of his

teacher's breasts and twist violently and laugh and laugh at

their pain.

They brought in a psychologist when the boy was in his third

year. The psychologist told them after studying the boy's

behavior that he was having trouble attaching to women, probably

due to the fact that he wasn't breast fed. His fixation on

breasts seemed to seal this theory, to the psychologist.

Father Joseph admitted there was a certain logic to this,

but he couldn't quite swallow the psychologist's explanation.

However, as the boy finished his third year of life, he had to

admit to himself that the boy did seem to be getting better.

With the help of specialists led by the psychologist, the boy's

behavior improved, even if his demeanor did not.

Two days after the boy's fourth birthday, though, things

took a downswing with some distressing news. Father Joseph

received a letter in his mailbox late at night with no return

address and, even more strangely, with no postage except a

handwritten stamp in the upper right corner that read "HAVEN LLC

PO"

He opened the letter and found inside a certificate of death

for the girl. Attached to it was an incident report filled out

by someone with the title Director, whom Joseph didn't

recognize. The incident report detailed the girl's involvement

in the Haven. At first, it claimed, she was their star pupil.

But soon, however, it was clear she wasn't taking the lessons of

the Haven to heart. She was acting out. They caught her sneaking

into town. Joseph thought maybe this corresponded with Teddy's

death, but it started even before that. In fact, it was a

gradual increase. The girl seemed to barely notice the incident

with the person the letter called "The problem boy."

By the second year, the Haven had resorted to harsher

methods. The girl would be denied food for escaping, but it

didn't stop her. They gave her the option to leave, but she

claimed it wasn't her decision, that it was "the Father's,"

which all understood to mean God's.

Father Joseph understood differently. It was obvious to him

that the girl stayed to please him. She stayed even as the

punishments grew more severe. She stayed even when it was clear

she would never learn, that there was something buried deep

within her mind preventing her from ever learning.

Finally, she had gotten sick. Then, she had slipped away.
 A blessing, the letter concluded.

It is the assessment of this Director and the board at

large that this girl was evil, and that Almighty God has dealt

her the only remedy left at his disposal. Amen.

Father Joseph, enraged, immediately consulted his superiors.

He found his contacts at the Haven had all moved on. He quickly

discovered that the Haven would not respond to his inquiries or

to his accusations. Consulting with the bishops and the

cardinals yielded no fruit. Yes they had seen the report, no

there was no evidence of wrongdoing.

It was the Cardinal that settled it in the end. He sat

Father Joseph down. "Joseph, you have to stop making noise about

the Haven. Surely you can see that they did what they could for

this girl."

"The incident report said the girl was evil, Holiness,"

Father Joseph pled. "We live in modern times. We live in the

twenty-first century."

"Joseph, you seem to be forgetting one important fact. The

girl could have left at any time. Don't you see? She wanted to

get better. She wanted improve, to be punished for her actions.

I understand that what is hinted at in this report you would

wilt to hear the details of. I understand that this girl was

participating in all the most defiling and defiled of acts."

"I can't believe that, Holiness."

 "Believe it, Joseph. I have seen and destroyed the

photographic evidence that the Haven collected. No, the girl

could have left. There is no blame that she died."

Joseph wanted to tell the Cardinal that the Haven should

have contacted him. That he was the one who could have freed the

girl, but in the end he said nothing. If it was true, then his

words would only hurt the Cardinal. And if it wasn't true--and

none of them would ever have any way of knowing--then it would

only be damaging to Joseph to say the words. It would imply a

relationship beyond simple priest-parishioner. Joseph slinked

out of the Cardinal's office and back to his parish.

Later that year, the boy Joseph killed a classmate.

It was an accident. The boys had been playing and one fell

from a high perch, snapping his neck against the concrete of the

sidewalk that ran through the playground. But Father Joseph knew

better. He knew that the other boy had been pushed. He knew that

the girl, Joseph's mother, had been evil, and the boy had

inherited this trait.

Father Joseph knew what he had to do.

* * *

Father Joseph found kidnapping to be a rather easy sport

when one held authority with the caretakers. He was able to

enter easily, present a false pretense of a midnight drive to

see a specialist early in the morning in Chicago--quite the

drive. No! He told them, no need to wake Mother Mary Frank. She

already knew. See, he had a letter with her forged signature

(but oh, it looked so real).

The boy slept most of the way, with a smile on his face.

Keep smiling boy, Father Joseph thought, you won't have much

reason when you see where we're going. They got to the bridge a

few minutes later. The bridge was particularly high on this part

of the river, thanks to two tall hills that flanked this part of

the river. Father Joseph had chosen this spot a week ago. He had

chosen it because in the past four years, more than a dozen

people had leapt from the middle of this bridge and not one of

them had ever been seen alive again. His only caveat was that

only six bodies had been recovered so far. Still, the statistics

weighed in favor. Besides, this was no man, with man's strength

who would be going over.

Father Joseph tried not to wake the boy, but the cold air

did the job for him. The boy looked up at him, his big, bright

eyes shining; then Joseph lifted him up over the railing. The

boy looked down and terror filled his eyes. He lunged, and he

was much stronger than Joseph had anticipated.

The boy clawed up Joseph's arm, fingers reaching for throat

flesh. Joseph pushed the boy down, but the boy held. He clung to

Joseph's wrist with evil desperation. Joseph finally drew one

hand back and smacked the evil little demon hard across the

head. The boy, stunned, faltered.

With a final heave, Joseph pitched the boy down into the

black stream that flowed below. An inhuman squeal bellowed up

into the night. Father Joseph never heard the splash. A minute

later, he heard another blood-curdling scream, as loud as any

banshee, echo up from the night.

The scream came from upstream.

Joseph swallowed hard. He shivered.

It was a dog. He knew what he had heard had been a dog. Or

perhaps a cat in heat. Just a coincidence. It had come from the

wrong direction. There was no way for a child as young as the

boy to swim upstream.

Joseph hurried back to his car. As he drove back home, he

knew he had done the right thing, assuming the boy was dead (he

had to be dead. He had to be). He knew because the boy had tried

to kill Joseph, seeing his own death. The boy had gone

immediately for Joseph's throat, like a boy-demon.

By the time Father Joseph got back to the rectory, he was

not nearly as certain about what had happened. The boy had

lunged, but wouldn't anybody? And he had clawed his way up

Joseph's arms toward his head, but how else could the boy have

tried to save himself? The dog howling just a little while

afterward, that had spooked him. No denying it. It had felt like

an omen, like a good old-fashioned omen.

With a sinking feeling, Father Joseph began to realize that

a bad omen didn't justify murder, and murder is exactly what

he'd done.

Joseph went inside his rectory feeling a deep sickness, like

pneumonia in his lungs. He coughed and opened his bedroom door.

Kathleen sat on the end of his bed, smoking. She sprang to her

feet.

"Joseph! Joseph, something has happened to the boy. He's

gone, Joseph."

"I know."

"He's gone!" She moaned.

He gripped her shoulders. "I know."

She stopped struggling and looked up into his face. Her

cheeks drained of color. "No."

"I did what had to be done, Kathleen," speaking with a

confidence he couldn't feel. "That girl," he said, sitting,

shaking, feeling sick, "She was evil."

Kathleen collapsed back into the chair across his desk. The

cigarette fell from her fingers and she stomped it out only when

the smell of burning carpet reached her nose. She laughed an

incredulous laugh. There was an enigmatic quality to it. An

insanity. She sat down hard.

 "When the baby--our Teddy--was born, do you remember what

you said to me?" she asked.

Joseph poured himself a drink of brandy and downed it, then

coughed. The bubble in his lung wouldn't leave. "That was so

long ago. I bet we wouldn't have guessed this ending."

"You said: make sure he never turns out like me."

Joseph nodded. "It would have been destroyed if he'd become

a priest. What a waste."

"Everyone thinks their life is a waste, Joseph. We all get

to the end and realize only then what we should have done with

our time. What we should have loved, what chances we should have

taken."

A silence followed that served as punctuation. Joseph

nodded, but didn't like this philosophical mood Kathleen was in.

He wanted her to leave.

"For instance, maybe a young woman would join a convent too

young to realize that her life held a different tack. This young

girl would perhaps very soon go back to her birthright. She

would begin dabbling in those same dark arts as her mother,

despite them going against everything her current station holds

dear."

"What are you talking about Kathleen? Is it the girl's

mother? Do you know something?"

 Kathleen lit a new cigarette. She laughed again, a bolder

noise this time, but no less insane. She smoked hard, like she

could suck the life clear out of herself. "I know that it worked

on you. You fell in love with me, only briefly. I know that it

worked on others. I saw the young love leave my convent and I

felt, a little at least, that I was actually doing God's work. I

felt like I was really helping. So when you said that you didn't

want Teddy to be a priest, I knew what I had to do."

Joseph set his third glass of brandy down. "What are you

talking about?"

"I loved you, Joseph."

He laughed bitterly.

"I still do," she said. "When the boy was old enough, I

worked my old magic again. I found him a suitable mate; I put

her in the position of power. But the boy was dull. Dull like

his father," she hissed

Joseph recoiled at the venom in her voice.

"He fell out of love as soon as she was pregnant. I didn't

want the girl to be hurt. So I did a little both more magic on

both of them. Only she became attracted to everyone, not just

him. She couldn't control it. Poor girl thought she was cursed.

I didn't expect her to go back to her home. You know how poor,

ignorant people can be. They were superstitious about adoption

and about her being taken to America. And Teddy...he was too
dumb. Like a dog Teddy followed my simple commands, got himself

stupidly killed."

"The baby..." Joseph's thoughts evaporated.

Kathleen wiped tears from her eyes after a long moment. She

shook her head. "Just a baby, Joseph. Whatever you did--I don't

even want to know--you did it to an innocent child."

She left soon after, dragging behind snow and wind like a

ghost on her heels. That night, she killed herself. Joseph

continued on. The baby was never found. The rumors that Kathleen

had sold the boy to the black market, and then killed herself

when her guilty conscience got the best of her, arose and Joseph

did nothing to quell them. When someone found, years later, a

charred totem buried in the floorboard beneath Kathleen's old

bed, rumors of black magic spread. Joseph let them smolder.

Soon, they became a kind of truth. The kind of truth everyone

but those who know believes.

At night, sometimes, Joseph would hear that hideous scream

that had come after he'd dropped the boy into the water, to its

death. It would wake him at night. He thought he'd heard it in a

dream, or just outside his window. He would pound on the glass

and beg the night for quiet.

He never knew that the scream he'd heard was his own.

THE END