The Exorcism Job (Short Story)
A Goodman Inc. Short Story
Henry Goodman was burning sage in one hand while reading aloud from a book of sorcery in a Brooklyn apartment for a frightened elderly woman named Margery Banks. Though he wasn’t the superstitious type, Hank was the type to avoid scary movies, haunted houses, and dark rooms whenever possible. However, when he received the call to “cleanse my home after a visit from family,” he imagined the worst thing to be scrubbing the grout with a toothbrush. Expelling an evil spirit from an old lady’s home didn’t even register when she explicitly asked him to do so.
“I’m sorry, you need me to do what?” Hank asked, holding a basket of spray bottles, disinfecting wipes, and sponges.
“I need you to help me cleanse my home from an evil spirit my grandniece left in my home,” she pulled him by the arm into the room. “Here is a bunch of sage, and I need you to read these incantations from this book in the kitchen.”
Hank flipped the book over to read the title, Elder’s Book of Sorcery. “This looks like the book the bad guy in every movie is looking for.”
“I borrowed it from the library,” Margery feebly pushed him into the kitchen.
“Can I ask you something?” He asked.
“You already did but go right ahead.”
“Oh yeah, I guess I did,” he chucked. “Now, how do you know your grandniece left a demon in your house?”
“You should have seen her. She was dressed all in black with a chain around her neck like a prong collar. Her nails and lips were black, and she had skulls and black leather boots. The whole time she was here she didn’t utter a single word but stared absently at my little kitchen. Since they left, I’ve been hearing sounds in my kitchen in the middle of the night. My cupboards will be open when I wake up in the morning though I’m certain I closed them the night before.”
Hank didn’t want to appear spooked, but a cold shiver ran down his spine. He tried to convince himself ghosts and evil spirits weren’t real, but that side of him that was still a little scared of the dark was working overtime. “Isn’t it the job of an exorcist to expel evil spirits from homes and people?”
“Do you know any?”
“You can just go to any local church. I think all the priests are trained in exorcisms,” he had no idea if that was true.
“That won’t work. I’m atheist,” Margery stated matter-of-factly.
Hank tried to make sense of that for a second before shrugging his shoulders and lighting the sage on the stove burner. Reading from the book of sorcery gave him the creeps. He thought about how his mom forbade him from reading Harry Potter because it would open a door to let demons into the house. The irrational part of his brain wondered how many demons were walking through the door as he read the incantations. “Why did you need me to do this? I’m not a wizard. You could have read a book and lit candles just as easily as I am.”
“Oh no! I could never!” She shuttered. “I’m horribly terrified of witchcraft.” Suddenly, Margery began to convulse and her face became distorted. She fell to the floor violently. Ectoplasm rose from her mouth in the form of Kim, his ex, and attacked him before waking up from the nightmare.
Hank shot up quickly from the couch. “Must’ve been one heck of a dream,” said Dusty, pouring himself a bowl of cereal.
“You have no idea,” Hank told him everything he dreamt. Emma walked sleepily out of the room and pulled a spoon out of the drawer to eat from Dusty’s bowl.
“Kim was a monster, I don’t know what you saw in her,” Emma inserted.
“So, aside from your demon ex-girlfriend popping out, what actually happened with the job?” Dusty asked before mouthing a heaping spoonful of Cap’n Crunch and shielding the bowl from Emma.
“She asked me to sprinkle salt all over the kitchen counter and floor. Then Margery gave me something called Polly Santa to burn along with the sage.”
“You mean ‘Palo Santo’. It’s Spanish for Holy Wood,” Dusty corrected.
“How did you know that?” Emma asked in surprise.
“I’m part Colombian. Then what happened?”
“Let’s circle back to after. She tells me, ‘don’t forget to burn the Polly Santa in the cupboards as well,’ so I turned the burners on to light the wood. Then, I opened the cupboards to smoke the demons out and a mouse popped out from between the dishes. I jolted back and accidentally turned the burner on high. As I fell, I spilled the sage on the flame, starting a small fire. We tried putting it out with Holy Water but the curtains caught fire and the sprinklers went off on the entire floor.”
“That explains why you came home soaking wet,” Emma laughed sympathetically and hugged him.
“At least she still paid me because the mouse ran away and the noises in the kitchen stopped.”
“Now where are you with finding a real job?” Dusty asked.
“Surprisingly, I made more money doing odd jobs like this in the last few months than I used to make as an entry level copywriter. I think I might just keep doing it and see where it goes. I have some repeat customers like Shower Girl and Mr. Gilbert that helps keep income steady on slow weeks.”
“First of all, Mr. Gilbert is a mobster. You shouldn’t go anywhere near him. Secondly, Shower Girl needs help from a psychiatrist.”
“Leave Splinter alone, Dusty. You’re just jealous you don’t have a Shower Girl,” Emma defended.
“Maybe I am a little jealous, but Mr. Gilbert is definitely a mobster. Mark my words, it's going to come back to bite you in the ass.”
An Unwanted Shower Threesome: A Henry Goodman Incorporated Story
