Watch How We Walk (3 page)

5

THE BASEMENT WAS COLD
AND
dark. I sat hunched and cramped in a small arc of yellow light from a desk lamp. Outside, the wind wailed and shoved the snow into drifts against the house. It had snowed for two days; school was cancelled and there weren't enough ploughs to keep all the roads clear. I had brought the coffee maker down with me, and the air smelled acrid and sharp. I had no need to venture upstairs. My stomach contracted and twisted in on itself but I ignored it. Hunger helped keep me awake. I hadn't slept for a couple of nights. The snow blocked the light from the windows and I was losing track of the days.

I yawned in spite of myself. The clock read 3:02 a.m. I still had a lot of studying to do for geography and history and English literature. Exams were two days away. I had to stay awake. I pushed back my chair and stood up, stretched, shook my limbs. The room tilted and began to lurch and spin. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision. I grabbed the side of the desk and rested my hands on my knees. Better. I breathed and decided I could have some of the carrot sticks I'd brought down earlier.

Their crunch was unnaturally loud and I cringed. Swallowing solids felt foreign and awkward but I forced it all down with another gulp of lukewarm coffee. Eating had begun to disgust me, but I couldn't risk passing out. I had to stay awake. It was my only way out.

I forced myself to focus and keep alert the best way I knew how.

I turned off the lamp and sat back down to let the bulb cool. There were shapes in the dark, masses I no longer recognized as sofa, chair, desk, boxes. They looked to be very slowly moving, in silent unison, toward me. Circling. Black shapes blocking all the exits. I tried not to move. My arms and neck prickled.

Is that you?

Concentrate! There isn't much time.

I opened the drawer next to me and without needing to see, removed a small cardboard box. It held a red light bulb and I set it on the desk before me. I unscrewed the still-warm bulb from the lamp and replaced it with the red one. I switched the lamp back on and the room glowed hotly.

Next I took all the contents from the same drawer and set the stack of paper and envelopes and notebooks on the floor. I lifted a board from the drawer, revealing the false bottom that I'd created, just like the one Lenora had built in her dresser a decade before. I gently took out another box and set it on the desk. In it was a sampling of my favourite implements: box cutters, penknife, razor blade.

I smiled. I soaked a tissue in rubbing alcohol and wiped down each of them. This would energize me, this would keep me awake. I just had to choose which. My hands shook from all the coffee. The thin, braided bracelet bounced lightly around my wrist. I ran my fingertips over it as I often did when I felt overwhelmed, and I began to focus.

I pushed up my sleeves. The lattice on my arms was intricate. I always took care to be symmetrical, but it was difficult. A row of Ls on my skin: perfectly spaced as though marching in a determined little row, ready to escape from my fingertips and leap into oblivion.

I had another dream about you.

Oh yeah? What was I wearing? How did I look? Hot?

Stop it. It wasn't like that.

You sure about that?

It was winter and you were wearing that black leather biker jacket. You were walking in front of me, and I kept trying to catch up, but the faster I ran through the wet snow, the farther away from me you got.

Serves you right.

I shouted your name but you didn't hear me. You just kept walking.

Oh, I heard you, all right. I just had better things to do.

Then you disappeared.

After the dream, anger like a blast from a furnace. I hated my parents for letting her go. I hated them for their lies and their silences. I'd bitten the insides of my cheeks and dug my nails into my palms until they bled. That hadn't been enough.

I miss you.

I'd etched and etched that night until I could stop crying, until I no longer felt the burn of all our blame.

After that, there wasn't much space left on the tops of my forearms, so I had to move to the more delicate insides of my arms. That night, the hate wasn't just for my parents or the elders; it was also for myself. Everything that had happened was, in some way or another, my fault.

This time, I chose the box cutters. I scratched a series of straight lines, each two inches long and a half inch apart. One line for everything I did wrong, and one for everything I didn't do at all. The first couple burned and stung, but I got used it, and didn't mess any of them up by flinching. They were perfect.

My hands stopped shaking, and I went back to studying until daylight, and then I went to school.

6

ON WEDNESDAY NIGHT, EMILY'S DAD
starts Family Study late. He's been over at Brother Wilde's, discussing some problem, and when he returns, he says they'll do an article from one of last year's
Awake!
issues, called “What is Spiritism?” Usually they study whatever
Watchtower
or
Awake!
article is scheduled for the next meeting.

— Why aren't we doing this Thursday's
Watchtower
article? Why are we reading an old one?

Emily's mom doesn't wait for him to answer.

— Jim, it's late. The kids have to get up for school tomorrow. She crosses her arms in front of her chest and doesn't sit down at the dining room table.

— It won't kill us to skip one Family Study so the girls can get enough sleep for once.

Emily's dad ignores her mother, and flips through the old magazines until he finds the article he's looking for. Then he rubs his eyes and looks up as though he's waking up from a long nap and has forgotten where he is.

— Where's your sister? We can start as soon as she gets to the table.

Emily's mom sighs, not a real one, but a loud, fake exhalation.

— I'll go get her. Emily runs out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the bathroom. It's locked, and before she can even call Lenora's name, the shower blasts on and muffles any sound on either side of the door. Emily yells and knocks anyway, but there is no response. It's her turn now to sigh, but hers is real, a breath full of disappointment and fatigue, and she rests her forehead against the wooden door frame. At her feet, snaking beneath the door and into the bathroom, is the telephone cord.

She doubles her knocks, pounds both fists now, and still nothing, so she cups her ear to the door. Nothing beyond the steady pulse of the water is audible, and because it's a lie, it seems even louder.

When she comes back to the kitchen, she sits down at the table, defeated, and doesn't look at her parents.

— Is your sister still in the shower?

Emily shrugs.

— She didn't answer.

Her mom shakes her head and sits down across from Emily, her arms still crossed.
Folded
, thinks Emily, just to be safe,
her arms are folded
.

— We can't start until we're all here. Did you tell her we're waiting for her?

— I don't think she could hear me. Emily bites her lip, debating whether or not to tell them about the phone cord. She still owes Lenora one for rescuing her from Tammy Bales. Then again, aren't they even because she didn't mention the cigarette?

— This is ridiculous. It's way too late. Her mom takes a long sip from her cup and glares across the table.

— I'll get her moving.

Her dad strides out of the kitchen and toward the bathroom. Emily's stomach clenches — will she get in trouble for not telling them about the phone? What will happen to Lenora when she's caught skipping Family Study and on the phone instead? And who is she talking to? She follows him out and watches from the doorway.

First he bangs on the door and tells her to shut off the water and get to the kitchen immediately. When that doesn't work, he tries the door handle again and again, as though it might somehow unlock at any moment. The shower still blasts and they hear nothing else. Emily can't remember a time when Lenora ever refused to come to Family Study or to the Hall. This must be was her mom meant about “teenagers” and “hormones.”

— What the . . . ? Her dad finally notices the phone cord.

He grabs the slack outside the door and yanks it as hard as he can. Something crashes in the bathroom, then there's a yelp like a kicked dog, and the water goes off.

They all head back to the kitchen in silence, with Lenora trailing behind them, rubbing her forearm. There's a black bandanna tied around her head. She doesn't look at any them.

Emily sneaks a glance at the clock and it's already after 10:00. They've never started a study later than 8:15, and it's always been finished by 9:00.

— We will not be studying a recent article tonight. Her dad leans his head on his hands, and Emily wonders if he is tired too. He's not even yelling at Lenora or grounding her or asking who she was talking to in secret, locked in the bathroom. It's as though he doesn't know what to do, and so just begins the Family Study as planned.

— Let's pray. He bows his head and, on cue, they all do.

— Oh Jehovah God, we pray in your glory tonight that You might keep us free from Satan's wiles . . .

Emily tries hard to pay attention, but her mind keeps wandering to Lenora. She doesn't even have to ask, she knows she was talking to a worldly person, probably Marla; why else would she try so hard to hide it?

— Something very serious happened to Brother Wilde and his cousin Richard. Emily's dad begins, then stops. The magazine in his hands shakes. Her mom sighs.

— Jim, are you sure this can't wait? Everyone is tired, including you.

— Why do you drink from a mug with a lid, like a baby cup? Lenora doesn't even look up as she asks, as though she doesn't care about the answer.

Their mom glares across the table.

— Because. It keeps my coffee warm.

Lenora snorts, then coughs. Their dad exhales and squares his shoulders.

— I understand that this is a school night, but learning about Satan's evil ways is more important than getting up early for school.

Emily's dad explains that Brother Wilde's cousin, from a nearby congregation, recently moved into an old house and has since had strange experiences. Emily doesn't know why Lenora cares about their mom's cup; this is far more interesting.

— Strange how? Emily's pen is poised above her Kingdom Hall notebook. She's excited to be up this late; it's almost like a party.

— Unexplained disturbances. The walls shake in the middle of the night, doors slam, and dishes rattle and sometimes smash on their own.

— Perhaps his children are unruly and lack discipline. Maybe there's a draft. Emily's mom looks at her, grins, and rolls her eyes.

— Brother Richard lives alone. He's investigated all possible explanations. There were no animals trapped in the walls, the shelving was all secured properly, and there aren't any earthquakes around here.

— So the house is haunted? Emily's eyes are wide and she leans forward.

—
Haunted
is a worldly term. There are no such things as ghosts.

— Demons, then, I meant demons. Is it demons?

Across the table from her father, Lenora snorts again. Emily's face reddens.

Emily's mom flips through the
Awake!
magazine that her father hasn't opened yet. Emily wonders if they are actually going to read it or not, and if her dad will ask questions from it, or if he's just going to tell them this story about Brother Wilde's cousin. They've never had a Family Study like this before. Usually they take turns reading the paragraphs aloud; then her father, the head of the household, asks a question, and Emily, Lenora, or their mom answers. They do that for each paragraph until the article is finished. It's like a rehearsal for Thursday night's meeting, where they'll do the same but as a congregation.

— Well, Brother Richard didn't know what was causing the problem with the house. He searched the place for weeks. Then one afternoon, cleaning out the basement, he finally discovered the issue.

He pauses again, looking at Emily, who is not fidgeting or daydreaming at all, she is paying attention, and then he looks at her mom. She reads something in the magazine, but Emily can't see which article.

— Vivian! Pay attention! Try to set the proper example.

— I'm listening. She doesn't look up.

— The basement. Something evil in the basement.

— But what was it? What did he find?

— Don't raise your voice, Emily. Jehovah God values self-control.

— Sorry. She nearly whispers, hoping that he'll finish the story.

— What did he find?

— He discovered that there was an old Ouija board left in the cellar, hidden under some loose boards in a corner.

Her dad tells them that Brother Richard decided to get rid of the Ouija board immediately. Without telling anyone, he took it out to a forest in the country and buried it deep in the ground. But the house shook again a few days later. This was months ago, in July when it was very hot and humid, but his basement was always cold. He didn't want to go down there but he knew that he had to.

— Sure enough, the Ouija board was back. Just sitting there at the bottom of the basement stairs. Waiting for him. As though Satan was making a mockery of God.

Richard didn't know what to do after that, he didn't know that he had to burn it, so he moved into his trailer in the yard and told everyone he was renovating the house. When it got too cold to stay out there, he moved back in but the noises and the shaking continued. He didn't want to tell anyone in his congregation because he was afraid they would think that the Ouija board was his, and then he might get disfellowshipped. After he could endure no more, he called his cousin, Brother Wilde, to help him and Brother Wilde told Emily's dad the whole story.

— Satan is very powerful. We must constantly be on guard against him. That this happened today, to someone near us, illustrates Satan's earthly strength and sovereignty.

— Jim, I really don't think this is the kind of stuff you should be telling our youngest child before bed. You'll give her nightmares!

— Simmer down! This is the end of the story. There was no demon activity in the house when they first arrived, but Richard said that was not unusual, it didn't happen every day, and when it did, it was mostly in the middle of the night.

— They put the Ouija board in a plastic grocery bag, along with some newspapers and matches. Brother Richard had already packed his axe and some dry wood in the trunk of his Buick. They prayed constantly.

— So they were going to burn the demons?

— Well Emily, they were going to burn the Ouija board, in order to eliminate the demon activity. If the object no longer existed, then the demons would have to move on, they would have to go elsewhere.

— Were they scared, Dad? Were you scared when they told you?

— It is right to fear Satan. But we must trust in God's protection — and have faith. Next they locked everything in the trunk and drove to the partially frozen lake outside of town. They hacked the Ouija board into hundreds of pieces.

Her dad rubs his moustache with his good hand, then continues.

— They built a small bonfire on the beach and burned all the bits and splinters and waited until—

— What did it look like? Emily can't help but interrupt.

— What did what look like?

— The Ouija board. What did it look like while it was burning? Could they see the demons? What did they look like?

— See, Jim? You see? You're getting her all worked up. She's not going to sleep at all tonight.

— But I want to know! Did they have horns? Knives for teeth? Could you see their faces?

— Emily, you know that demons are invisible to humans. The Ouija board probably just looked like a burning piece of wood, no different from anything else.

Her dad sighed and shook his head.

— They headed back to Brother Richard's car, unlocked the doors, and were about to get in. Then Richard started to shake and yell, ‘No no no' over and over again. I swear to the one true God Jehovah, that sitting right there on the passenger seat, intact, waiting for Brother Wilde, was that Ouija board.

Cold creeps up Emily's neck like a spider and her skin tingles. Even her mom looks up and frowns. Lenora has said nothing the entire time they've been seated at the table. Emily is pretty sure she hasn't heard a word of the story.

— What happened? What did they do?

— Nothing. For now, Brother Richard is staying at Brother Wilde's until they ask the district overseer what to do next.

EMILY'S MOM TUCKS HER IN
bed, and they pray together, and then she asks Emily if she is scared.

— No. Jehovah protects people who are good and free from sin.

— That's right. You have absolutely nothing to worry about, and besides, we're just down the hall. She kisses Emily good night on her forehead.

A short time later Emily hears her parents shout at each other, but can't make out what they are saying. She tries to fall asleep but the image of the demonized Ouija board is stuck in her head. She's scared that even thinking about it will be an invitation for the demons to get inside her. She silently recites the books of the Bible in order —
Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges
— but that doesn't help her sleep either. And she knows better than to try to think of nothing at all. That's another way to be invaded by demons — emptying your mind of all thoughts. This is also called meditation
.
It's very dangerous because it leaves your mind vulnerable for demons to get in and take over. It takes a lot of concentration for Emily to keep her mind busy at all times, and that's partly why it's so difficult to fall asleep. Sleep itself has become a risk.