Chapter 4

I was sipping at some sludge that Steve had made insisting it was coffee, and though a large array of scientific tests could factually prove he might have been telling the truth, I could not think of it as anything other than a cup of swamp water with some mud thrown in for flavor. He made lousy coffee, but perfect Heimlich maneuvers.

We had been talking for the better part of an hour, old Mama Adele still lying on the floor since no-one had bothered to even move the body out of the way, not even for the sake of appearances and good taste. I'd learned that there was some solid reasoning behind that as well. Some of the things Steve had said though still didn't fit, so I asked more questions, expecting some kind of answers. I was surprised at how more often than not, the answers bring about more questions:

"So who turned Eileen into a crazy person?"

"Mama Adele was the agent, that's for sure. But she was just an instrument. A tool. Someone else was behind that. She, it, whatever you want to call the go-wa-na-ditche, was doing it on behalf of someone else, for sure."

"And Eileen is in fact this powerful guardian spirit?"

"Yes, it is clear to me now, as it is painfully clear to her. She's an aka-ne-wha-dhe, a guardian of the spirit-world."

"And you're gay? Really, gay? I mean, like, you're into men?"

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes before answering with some hesitation:

"Yes. I like men. Sexually."

"How come you're not wearing leather and feathery hats and that kind of ... Oh, I see."

He smiled and nodded, twiddling his thumbs with some nervousness. I had to know so I asked:

"You're not into me, are you? I mean ... I can't say this, but do you -"

"Get a hard on when I see your ass?"

"Sweet Jesus and Virgin Mary, don't say that!"

"I don't, Bob. I was just messing with your head. Can we get on to the important stuff now? Like why was Eileen caged by that demon?"

"So, you're saying you're not gay?"

"I'm saying I don't have the hots for you, man. Just get past that, and focus, please?"

"Yeah, okay, I should stop thinking about you, thinking about my ass."

"Good. What has Eileen been telling you?"

"Not much. She's pretty withdrawn. Feels like she's in shock. So, she wasn't really crazy?"

"No, not really crazy. That was just her imprisonment spell. A lock on her spirit. Even someone as powerful as her needs time to realise she had been living under a spell for decades. Played like a puppet, and by none other than the one person she thought cared the most. Must've been like a back-stab through the heart."

"But she's not really Eileen then either. At least not the Eileen I knew. Hasn't called me papa-bear either since she's been inside me."

"I guess not. Though some of her, the real Eileen, must have been part of that persona that limited her true self, the Eileen you knew and were married to. It's not something airtight, something deterministic."

"So, whom was I married to for two weeks?"

"Two weeks? That was the entire duration of your marriage? The honeymoon lasts longer than that."

"By Las Vegas standards, it's like half a lifetime. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, and this might sound like something a cheap son of a bitch would say, but hear me out. I was young, rash, and adventurous; I had just done this job at a small but profitable motel. I had gate crashed this wild party where anything seemed normal enough, and while I was drunk off my mind, mostly on the feeling of success of a job well done, I saw Eileen wearing a silly red hat, painted blue, and wearing a bikini made of less cloth than your standard handkerchief. I just felt I had to do papa-Smurf before I died, so I used my charm on her and before I knew it, I was wearing a ring, and singing the Smurfs theme, doing eighty in a rented Lincoln convertible headed for Memphis to meet my in-laws. The grandpa-smurfs."

"And that's how you got married? How come you didn't run off when the drinks wore off the next morning?"

"As I said, I was feeling adventurous, and rash."

"Her father was pretty loaded, right?"

"Well, yeah. That might've played a small part. You know, base human instincts like greed can turn a good man into a shadow of his former self. Plus, at first I found the whole craziness kind of charming. And the sex was awesome. Weird, pretty fucking weird at times, but awesome."

"And then what happened?"

I slapped myself hard on the face, and went rigid. Then Eileen took over and she didn't sound very happy about what she could remember, in lucid detail:

"I'll tell you what happened, mani-chi-kwa, spirit guide of the Alabama. Bobby here, sweet ol' Bobby, took advantage of my weakened mental state, and led me to believe he really cared. Like this dead bitch here who had been my captor and jailer for all these mournful years. Let her spirit be carried away to the void, when the time of reckoning comes."

I placed my hands on the table, and felt Eileen's anger pulsate through my veins:

"I searched inside this man's mind and soul, and found out some shred of love for me was true. But his wickedness overcame his better human nature, and wealth blinded him. That was why he took off with whatever he could find in that safe, and why he has to repay me for this act of mine: Bobby Barhoe, I forgive you. I only feel loss and sorrow for the mother that bore this child you call Eileen into this world, for she had a sweet soul, and was an innocent creature. But the father ... The father must burn."

Steve looked rather concerned and wary suddenly, fearing that a guardian spirit to say such a thing was perhaps going to far in the pursuit of justice and spiritual balance. He asked then:

"Surely aka-ne-wha-de, you have been wronged terribly and justice must be served, balanced restored. But we killed this demon's host, and you're awakened and free. What good will come of that burning that you speak?"

"Mani-chi-kwa, you are an example to your people and your tribe. But you are but an infant, a small child caught in a terrible wind. I fear I have been too late to wake. I have to thank you, and even Bobby here, for what you started. But do not make the mistake and think of me as a plagued human spirit anymore. I am Aka-ne-wha-de, and I shine brighter on the lonely path each soul must take."

With that being said, I was released from her grip and felt a great burden fall away from me. I tried to talk to her, but I felt nothing. She wasn't there. I sounded a bit panicked when I said to Steve:

"Did you know this would happen?"

"Wild spirits such as hers are fickle, and rarely converse with mortals so candidly. We should be thankful that she shared all that with us."

"But, I don't feel her inside me, at all. Is that normal?"

"I do not know. Perhaps she has returned to the spirit world. Perhaps she roams."

"So, what does that mean? Was she serious about burning her father? I mean, Eileen's father? Novorski, anyhow."

"I can't say."

"So, where does that leave us with the shards? I mean, doesn't all this count as extra? How many more do we need? How do we get into the after-world?"

"Easy now, Bobby. You could be collecting shards from ants, and mice, and even rocks. But then you'd need a lifetime. That's why I thought your best bet was Eileen, a living, breathing human being, who seemed to love you truly, and freely give her soul. It looks like I was both wrong and right at the same time."

"How do you mean?"

"The guardian's spirit saw the good in you, and the ritual I performed allowed her to free herself from her bonds, and find shelter in your body. But her true self lay dormant, and didn't wake up until she had to face the demon, the gowa-na-di-tche. That was when she realised who she really was, and what had happened to her. It seems that now she might want to do something about setting things right before returning to the spirit-world where she belongs."

"Alright, that's cool. That's her thing, happy to help and all, but where do I stand? I mean, that's really fucking mind-blowing, guardian spirits, demons, spirit-prisons, Eileen not being crazy, me somewhere amidst all that supernatural mayhem, but Falconi will have my ass, and you know very well that no matter how long and hard I run and hide, my days will be considerably shorter and miserable to the point I'll likely just show up and let him put me to the ground sooner rather than later. So, I'm asking you? Are we good? Are we still on, like John said? Are we going to get to the damn parking lot, bring John back to do the job and get Falconi off my back, or have I almost died four times today just for the laughs?"

And right about that time, I saw Eileen, the flesh and blood Eileen, looking like she'd been run over by a truck. I saw Steve reach for a large spoon, idly sitting inside a bowl of gravy and then I heard the sound of Eileen's laughter, which I was honestly glad to hear after a while:

"Put that down, Steve. It's me, the Aka-ne-wha-de, you don't have to make a complete ass of yourself."

"How can I know you're not the demon who robbed that flesh once more for himself?"

"Steve I thought you were good at this sort of thing. One, the 'demon' as you call him wouldn't have to wait all this time to get inside this body. And two, which is I'm really surprised you forgot but I'm eager to believe is due to the shock and stress of all this, you killed the host so you send the spirit to the spirit-world, and now he can't come back unless he's summoned. Anyone did any summoning while I changed bodies? I wouldn't think so. I mean come on, nobody watches Supernatural? Buffy the Vampire Slayer? You know, that sort of nonsense?"

"You talk funny," said Steve sounding like a ten-year old boy who wanted to know but feared to ask.

"Yeah, well that's because earlier, I wanted to feel like Aka-ne-wha-de again. You know, sound bad-ass, really unforgiving, regal, that sort of thing. Plus, I really wanted to make Bobby here know I was serious. The hard-ass guardian spirit that won't take any bullshit is something to be feared and respected, while Eileen is just, well, Eileen."

"So, how should we address you, great guardian spirit?"

She looked spiteful, youthful and bossy all-in-one. Her face was familiar, but this was a whole new other person.

"First thing, stop the sucking up. Second thing. Bobby, are you sorry for what you did to Eileen?"

I kinda hoped that sort of a question wouldn't pop up, but I that's just my string of luck.

"Wha-at? Well, yeah, of course. No, really. I mean, she ... You ... She, I'm pretty sure it was she, meaning another person, well technically the same but-"

"Cut the evasive crap. Are you sorry?"

I paused for just one moment and said just what really came to mind:

"Yeah. I am. She wasn't that bad. Or that crazy. Maybe she was that crazy, but I shouldn't have taken advantage of her like that. That's just like stealing candy from a baby, and believe me, I've been there, I've done that, and it's not all it's cracked up to be."

"I'll take that as a yes. You can call me Eileen. I'll call you Steve and Bobby, or whatever I damn well please at the time. Are we cool?"

Both Steve and I nodded with some apprehension before I added:

"Yeah, positively; but listen, I'm in a bit of a spot, I'm sure you'll have noticed by now. So could you lend a hand, or should we just be on our way 'cause the clock's ticking and-"

"I don't like that tone. I didn't hear you say 'please'."

"Right, sure. Please?"

She beamed with a smile and said:

"I was going to anyway. We're in this together anyhow. I'll scratch your back and you'll scratch mine. It's only fair."

"Meaning?"

Her happy face turned into an angry scowl when she said:

"Burn this bitch. The daemon host's body can't return to mother Earth. And then we'll burn my father. Well, Novorski."

My propensity to see the larger picture and innovate came to the fore when I proposed:

"Do we really need to resort to something that base? Couldn't we just shoot the poor bastard?"

Steve couldn't believe I'd suggest such a thing and stabbed me with his eyes.

"No, we need to burn him," she said and sounded quite adamant about it.

"Why so much hatred, Eileen?" asked Steve trying to straighten out his sorry-looking feathery hat, while I took the opening and popped my own much more pertinent and important question:

"I can think of some reasons, but to tell you the truth I don't care so much about the sorry son of a bitch. I haven't killed a man yet, but there's a first time for everything. How long will that take? I need to be at Topeka tomorrow, and have John ready to go at an epic vault with a mean blowtorch."

"I'm fascinated by your willingness Bobby, and though I should be concerned, I think that's instinct talking. You won't have to kill anyone. Not a human, at any length. Novorski's a demon, just like she was," said Eileen and tasted the sour cream before spitting it out on the floor, the taste making her grimace.

"No shit?" I asked with genuine interest.

"No shit," she replied as she walked over to the fridge, opened it and rummaged about.

"So, what does that mean?" said Steve, still trying to save what little remained of his feather hat.

"I hope you can help me find out. And I can help you get your friend John back. Isn't that what you want?" Eileen said, and unscrewed a bottle of iced tea.

"Well, yeah. I think."

"Don't just stand there then, burn this thing."

"What, right here?" I said, feeling awkward.

"Do you want the neighbors to say a few last words?" she said and gave me the eye.

"I guess not."

"Good. I'll watch some TV while you go about it. Then we can pay Novorski a visit."

"Watch TV?" I said, thinking I had simply misheard, and in fact she had said 'become one with mother earth and all the living spirits' or something along these lines. Her answer flattened me on the spot:

"Yeah, 'Married with children' is on."

I thought that there was something seriously wrong with the world at large at that point, but then again, who was I to judge people, never mind guardian spirits of the after-world no less.

"Never mind. Pretend I didn't ask. Hey Steve, any ideas on how to torch this thing?"

Steve's eyes were out of focus, lost somewhere between the TV and Eileen, gazing something far beyond mere mortals eyes. Or it might've been that he was just woolgathering. Nevertheless, he managed an answer of sorts: