Love & Exorcisms | 18+ | COMPLETE |

- Chapter 37 -

Damian

The apartment his mother had procured was the attic room of an old house built of pale brick. The landlady was frigid, thin as a reed, tall and stooped. She called Ingrid "sister" and she did not acknowledge Damian's existence save to swat at him with a spoon when he got into mischief. He spent most of his time in the attic or running about the tree-filled yard of the place, trying to stay out of the way of the dozen or so men and women who seemed to visit the house on a daily basis.

From the round attic window he could look out upon Salem and see the bay glistening at the edge of the township. Steamboats clustered along the shore and blimps floated languidly over the waves, like dragonflies over a puddle. He would daydream of the boat Ingrid told him she and Belthazha arrived on from Scandinavia, of the long weeks they spent with nothing in sight but dark ocean from horizon to horizon. He wondered if perhaps things would be better if they went back there, back across the waters. Maybe his mama would be alright again, maybe she would stop fighting with Amma.

But of course...his mama couldn't go home. Because of him. She had told him as much: they had come to the New World for his freedom. For his safety.

As a man, Damian still thought often of the guilts that had plagued his young mind. He still wished that at nine years old he'd had the ability to put words to that guilt, to have spoken with his mother, asked her what was happening. He wished that, when he'd had the chance, he had asked her why.

Many guests came to the house one day: men and women dressed in much finery, garbed in dark colors as if for a funeral. Ingrid had taken Damian to a tailor some weeks before, and had him fitted with a little suit that he now wore amongst the company. She'd combed his unruly hair and told him to remain close by her, stay silent and behave.

The strangers seemed to like mama. They all called her "sister," like the landlady did, and told her how beautiful and strong she looked. They did not look much at Damian, and Ingrid did not introduce him. She had always taught him to be polite to new people, to shake their hands and give his name, but that day she had been clear that he was expected to be silent. His suit was itchy and too hot. It was boring following his mother around as she met people he wasn't allowed to talk to. There weren't even any other children to play with.

Eventually, blessedly, after much whining and yanking at her skirts, Ingrid told him he could go play in the kitchen, but only if he kept out of the way. The kitchen looked out on a hall that ran from the front door of the house to the back door, and was mostly empty save for one young lady washing dishes. Damian scooted himself under the cutting table and played with wooden soldiers, oblivious to the strangers who passed by the hall outside. That is, until one of them stopped.

A man in a dark suit. In Damian's memory, his features were hazy. He remembered thinking the man's face looked kind. He remembered that the man smiled, and had a very shiny silver pocket watch peeking from his jacket pocket.

"Hello young man," the stranger said, squatting so he could see Damian under the table. "Might you be young Damian?"

Damian nodded and, dutifully, held out his hand. "Yes, sir. Pleased to meet you."

"What a polite young man," the man chuckled. "I should have known that our Ingrid could have raised nothing other than such a bright, handsome boy. What have you got there? Toy soldiers?"

"Yes," Damian set his toys down shyly. "They're fighting a war."

"Are they? Goodness gracious, and what are they fighting about?"

"Gods," Damian said quickly. "Mama says most wars are fought over gods, because not everyone believes in them the same."

"Did she now?" the man nodded, picked up one of the toy soldiers and turned it over in his hands. "Your mama is right. She is a very wise woman. People will go on fighting their wars, child, until there comes a day when there is a power they cannot deny. Gods they all must hold to. Then there shall be peace. Wouldn't you like that?"