Lonie57

Lonie’s skin tingled, breath shortened and heart quickened, his legs longed to stretch sinew and bone, to run and leap along the corridor, but he kept his feet tied to the same sedate ceremonial pace as Father Campbell. They stopped outside the door of Carol Peter’s room, which let a handbreadth of air into the corridor and from which a muttering sound could be heard. A more marked steady thumping sound came from Larry Murray’s room further along the corridor and on the other side from them. The hasp on the supplementary bolt on the door jumped and the walls in the corridor rained dust from the old whitewashed roofs as the weight of a body smashed against it. Jim came out of the last room on the corridor; the same side as them. A white stole from Father Campbell's room was folded neatly over his arm. He also carried the capped silver aspergillum straight out- robotically- in front of him, by the wooden handle, so the holy- water didn’t splosh about. As he passed Larry’s room the thumping stopped, as if the patient listened to the echo of Jim’s footsteps passing on the other side of the corridor. A cacophony of noise marked the resumption of hostilities. It sounded to Lonie like a strange blend of the earthly and unearthly: high and low frequency cursing of pipistrelle shouting down a megaphone in the language of babel. Lonie couldn’t stop his knees from shaking, his hand’s from trembling and wished he’d listened to the working class maxim of common sense – never volunteer. Lonie hid behind Father Campbell as Jim dropped to one knee and presented the priest with the aspergillum. The priest sprinkled his bowed head with holy-water and made the sign of the cross over him. Jim stood up and as the priest turned towards him Lonie flung himself on one knee to be sprayed with holy-water. He would have gladly crawled all the way outside and down three flights of stairs like a true penitent. Lonie no longer wanted a story enough to have a one-to-one with Larry Murray. Jim held Father Campbell’s purple stole as he put on the white surplice as if putting on a baggy jumper. The priest kissed the cross on the stole before hanging it round his neck in preparation for an exorcism. The bolt on Larry Murray’s door jumped again as a body thumped against it. The howls of rage were all too human.

Father Campbell stood tall. He nodded and Jim pushed open the door to Carol’s cell. Lonie tried not to show his surprise as he followed behind them into the room. Lorna knelt closest to Carol, with her eyes shut, swaying to the rhythm of some silent prayer. Brother Jerome had one hand on her shoulder as if weighing her down and a red faced Brother Connelly mumbled a passage from The Bible. Lonie shivered as the temperature plummeted and his breath came out in a fog of worry. Carol faced sideways away from them, bound fly-like to a chair; her legs up and over her shoulders criss-crossed by stick tape. The chair danced as Carol rocked back and forth and turned to face them -only the white sclera of her eyes showing. The room smelt like an abattoir and Lonie’s stomach lurched.

‘Mr Lonnigan, how perfectly delightful to see you.’ Carol’s well-modulated accent spoke of a middle-class education, but her smile spooked Lonie more than her unseeing eyes. ‘I didn’t expect to see you in such dull company. I would get up, but as you can see I’m a bit incapacitated at present.’

Brother Connelly's heels involuntarily clicked together as he handed Father Campbell The Bible. The pages of another booklet nestled inside it.

Father Campbell made the sign of the cross over the assembled group and sprinkled each of them liberally with holy-water.

‘It hurts.’ The holy-water sizzled on Carol’s face.

Lorna and the Brothers backed away from Carol and stood to the side of Father Campbell. The priest ignored Carol’s crying out and trying to shock him. He began reading from his prayer book and working his way through the Litany of the Saints. The others in the group responded feverishly despite the growing coldness in the room by saying, almost in unison: ‘Pray for us.’

Lonie said nothing. His eyes drifted towards Carol trying to free herself. She had succeeded in jerking her chair forward in half moon circles, as if advancing on them inch by clench jawed inch.

‘Holy Mother of God’

‘Pray for us.’

‘Holy Virgin of Virgins.’

‘Pray for us.’

Carol seemed to try and duck underneath each prayer and response whipped at her. Lonie thought it a good performance.

‘Remember that nice Father Damian. How he liked the little girls and boys.’ Carol’s voice had a sing-song quality of a small girl. Then it changed into a voice Lonie recognised as a gone-to- fat Letterkenny monk. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’ll never happen again.” Seventeen years before those were the words he’d used in the box room the home had used for an infirmary, clutching at the lapels of Lonie’s striped pyjamas. He’d hung himself and the nuns whispered he’d gone to hell. No need to whisper about the kids in Lonie’s gang. Hell was waiting for them too. They celebrated by breaking into the kitchens and stealing a tin of biscuits which they’d gorged on.

‘All saints of God.’ Father Campbell sprinkled her with the lash of holy-water.

‘Intercede for us.’

The chair stopped rocking its way forward and the room grew so cold Lonie wished he’d worn his warm coat.

‘…On the day of judgement, we sinners.’

‘We beg you to hear us.’ Lorna’s response through chattering teeth betrayed a less firm tone than that of the other men and the steeple of her hands and fingers grew slack.

A ripping sound interrupted communal prayers as the tape holding Carol to the chair flexed off. Adhesive tape still clung to her blouse and skirt, but she stood up. Lonie took a step back, as did the others. Father Campbell remained unnerved at tip of the triangle of bodies.

‘Turn back the evil of my foes,’ he intoned, sprinkling Carol with holy-water and making her shirk back from him, to the back of the cell, close to the barred window.

‘Freely will I offer my sacrifice.’ Jim stepped forward mouthing the response, the others joining in.

Carol pulled up her bra and flashed her tits. ‘Why don’t you suckle me Lonie?’ She stabbed her hand down beneath her skirt, in and out of her cunt in a violent gesture, and held her hand up to show him the glazed- apple stickiness of her fingers. ‘Oh fuck me Lonie. Please fuck me.’ He recognised Audrey’s voice and, even in the inhuman way Carol bent her back, a parody of her having an orgasm.

‘…I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, along with all your minions now attacking this servant of God, by the mysteries of the incarnation, passion, resurrection, and ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ, by the descent of the Holy Ghost, by the coming of our Lord for judgment, that you tell me by some sign your name, and the day and hour of your departure.’ Father Campbell took a step towards Carol, but she scuttled away on all fours, a cry of rage and fear coming from her mouth so loud it bounced off the walls and door.

‘… I command you, moreover, to obey me to the letter, I who am a minister of God despite my unworthiness; nor shall you be emboldened to harm in any way this creature of God, or the bystanders, or any of their possessions.’

With a nod of his head Brother Jerome moved to one side of Father Campbell and Brother Connelly and Jim in a pincer movement to the other. The priest aided their advance by spraying Carol liberally with holy-water. She howled as if her skin was flayed, flinging herself against the wall again and again. Lonie felt sure she’d broken some bones. Father Campbell’s arm came out and his hand rested on her forehead. She tried to buck him off, but they seemed joined by his belief in some ancient text: ‘They shall lay their hands upon the sick and all will be well with them. May Jesus, Son of Mary, Lord and Saviour of the world, through the merits and intercession of His holy apostles Peter and Paul and all His saints, show you favour and mercy.’

The other supplicants answered ‘Amen’.

With a grunting noise Carol seemed to scuttle up the wall on all fours, run along the high roof, the sclera of her white eyes peering down deep inside Lonie, before dropping down with a thud on her knees beside him at the door. He shrunk back from her, but she wrapped her arms around him, pulled his squirming body close and forced her tongue into his mouth. She wasted no time on innocent kisses, grabbing his cock through the material of his trousers and flinging him towards the others. She shot out the door into the hallway scampering away on all fours.

‘Fuck.’ Lonie spat out salvia. ‘I think she did a shit in my mouth.’

Jim and the two Brothers rushed past Lonie and out into the hallway, chasing after Carol.

‘I’m sorry.’ Lorna patted Lonie’s arm and spoke as if it had been her fault.

Father Campbell bowed his head in prayer and sprinkled more holy-water around the room.

‘What happened?’ Lonie rubbed at his mouth and his face screwed up in disgust. He would have spat on the carpet, but for Lorna’s womanly presence.

Lorna smiled. ‘Let’s get you some tea.’ She put her arm through Lonie’s, treating him as if she’d annexed childhood, but her touch felt reassuring. The temperature in the room suddenly shot up and they no longer shivered, but Lonie still wanted out of the room.

But Father Campbell hung back to explain. ‘Not all exorcisms are straightforward. It’s in God’s hands. And we trust in Him. All we can do is pray and fast.’

‘What are you goin’ to do with Carol in the meantime?’ Lonie had heard that kind of crap before, but after what he’d seen and heard, he wasn’t sure what was up and what was down. He needed time to think about it. In the meantime he wanted Carol safely back in her own room, a sheet of metal added to the frame and the door welded shut, like those walled-in nuns left to die of thirst and starvation for some alleged cardinal sin.

‘Oh, we’ll get some support, some prayers, from a group of nuns.’ Father Campbell smiled at Lonie. He patted Lorna on the arm on the way out of her room. ‘Lorna used to be a nun, you know.’

They followed him out into the hallway. The noise from Larry’s room had stopped but Lonie and Lorna’s eyes locked in a fearful embrace. They looked up and down the hallway for Carol, but only Jim was visible at the far end, near the entrance to the secure unit. Lonie glanced up at the high ceilings above them. He was glad that Father Campbell was in front of them leading the way back to the office.

Lonie seated himself in his usual chair in the office. His hand shook as he lit a fag, which did not go unnoticed by Father Campbell. ‘Ah’ve been in some tight scrapes, against some right hard men, but Ah must admit Ah was shittin’ myself there.’ He passed the pack of Woodbine across to the priest, so he could take one. ‘Remind me never to double-cross the devil, or a woman like Carol Peters.’

Lonie’s fag stayed stuck to his upper lip. Outside the office window Brother Connelly and Jerome walked with Carol Peters wedged between them. Jim kept guard behind them. Lonie breathed fag smoke out of his nose. He saw no little more than a thin, bent-necked old woman, limping along between two muscle- bound men. It seemed hardly fair, but he wasn’t going to volunteer to help.