Dirty Secrets

Part 36

Because her dad was in a foul mood, Lyla retreated to her room to give him some space. She ripped open the mysterious envelope and discovered a handwritten letter with wavy sentences scrawled in frenetic, practically illegible penmanship across the page.

Lyla Perry,

You must understand that this is the only way. To be free of this demonic force, you must salt and burn the bones.

What kind of insanity is this?

She heard her father climbing the stairs. She skipped over the following sentences to the bottom of the page where she found no signature. None was required. She knew the identity of the sender.

A light rapping on the doorframe startled her.

"Hey, kid."

She stuffed the letter into the envelope and slipped it in the top dresser drawer. Ryan poked his head into the bedroom.

"See?" said Lyla indignantly. "I told you. No one's here. Nobody's hiding under my bed. You wanna check the closet?"

"We need to talk." He took a half-step into her room. He looked tired, worn out.

"About what?" She crossed her arms.

"I've been working some long shifts and I haven't been here as much as I wanted. Or I should be."

"It's fine."

"You feel like you're doing okay?"

She nodded and averted her eyes.

"I mean I can't tell. You don't talk to me."

"What am I supposed to say?" She threw up her hands. "I go to the hospital during the day and when I come home I try to catch up on homework. That's my boring life. There's really nothing else to tell."

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "You had me worried."

"Why?"

"I pulled into the driveway and the house was pitch black."

"I told you. I fell asleep. Sorry."

"And why is there salt on the floor?" His eyes found the bowl of salt on her dresser. "Is that salt, too?"

She nodded.

"What's that about?"

She bought herself some time as she crossed to her bed and plopped down. Fumbling for a plausible explanation she said, "We talked about it in session." This seemed a far more digestible solution than saying," Remember that crazy lady who came to the house the other night? She was the one who told me about salt." 

"You talked about salt in one of your sessions?"

"No, not just salt. Something like... a habit. That's not the right word."

He leaned against the doorframe wearing a quizzical expression.

The term eluded her. "What do you call it when you do a certain thing every day?"

"You talking about OCD?"

"No. Like when you pray or do chants."

"I don't know."

Without the pink and gray med in her system, Lyla was revitalized, as if someone had run an antivirus program to untangle and clean her brain. 

"Ritual! That's what I meant."

"What kind of ritual are you talking about?"

"Like an exercise to calm your mind. Kind of like a meditation. That's what I meant about chants."

He heaved a sigh of relief. "I thought you meant witchcraft and crystals and all that mumbo-jumbo kind of stuff."

"No. Dr. Haden talked about doing routines or rituals every day to take our minds off of things that are bothering us. Like anxiety. When your thoughts start going around and around in your head too fast. It's a calming technique. That's what she called it. A calming technique."

"The salt?"

"Well, that's just one example. She said people from way, way back in the old days used salt to keep bad thoughts or bad energy out of their homes."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You know how I was having those really intense nightmares?'

He nodded.

"Well, since I've been doing the salt ritual, I haven't had any more bad dreams."

"Really?"

"Putting bowls of salt in the rooms and making a salt line at the door or window, it doesn't really hurt anything, right?"

"It's probably not great for the wood floors but I get your point."

"I won't do it if it's gonna be a problem."

"I didn't say it was gonna be a problem. Is it helping you?"

"I mean, yeah. I think it is. It's like if you believe it helps and you do it every day, every day, every day the belief gets stronger and stronger that it's really working."

"Okay. Yeah, I guess I could live with some salt on the floor if it makes you feel better."

"I'm so done with them trying to solve every problem by giving me more pills."

"You're still taking your medication, aren't you?"

"Yeah, definitely. But I don't want them to keep adding more and more. It doesn't really feel like it's helping."

"Makes sense I guess. About the salt ritual. Like you said, it's not hurting anything."

"Well, except I think I used up all the salt."