Chapter 24
Laura sat looking at her psychology teacher. Boyce was a short man with a protruding belly and a large moustache. His hair was grey and his eyebrows looked as though they always tussled every time he seemed agitated, which was a lot.
'In all manner of religion, we find a want. A need, if you will. Human nature is such that it requires reason. A reason for everything. Boyce paused, re-adjusted his trousers and continued.
'This is due to the fact that we place ourselves in a box. A box of subservient hierarchy. Perhaps it makes us all feel safe...'.
'I don't know. I'm not sure if I agree.' It was Laura’s turn to contribute.
'Agree?' Boyce asked, quite shocked that his logic was being questioned by a student.
'No, I don’t. What you're suggesting is that all people create a make-believe world in order to support the existence of a superior being, but you don't explain why millions of people, people from different cultures, for thousands of years have come to similar conclusions. Whether It's Buddha, Christ, or Allah. Are we all suffering from a mass delusion? Are we all sick?' Laura asked.
'Sick? Miss?'
'Davis. Laura Davis.'
'Miss Davis, look at the world outside your window. Do the things that occur in that world suggest to you that it is sane? Sanity is merely a benchmark by which the majority judge what is right and what is wrong. It's an invisible line in the sand. Is that sickness, Miss Davis? The line varies depending on culture and social history.'
The student next to Laura, Matthew Tracy, joined in.
'He's right. How can anyone say we live in a sane world? Murderers, pedophiles, deluded terrorists. You actually think the world is sane?'
Laura denied ever saying the world was sane, she simply submitted that she did not think everyone was insane. Laura could be feisty. A trait that had occasionally served her well. However, it clearly didn't on this occasion.
'Then what is sane, Miss Davis? What part of the world have you seen that you can call sane? Please do enlighten us with your learned experience.' Boyce made sure to emphasize the last two words in his sentence.
'I'm not saying I'm more experienced in this than you. I'm just suggesting there is scope for something else going on here. Statistics alone would suggest it's ludicrous to believe the majority of the people on this planet are deluded. If they were, then what in the society can we classify as sane?'
'What indeed, Miss Davis? That is me posit to you. You see, it's easy for a man not to take responsibility for his actions, Miss Davis. Much easier to pass it off to some imaginary being from the Id, or in this case, some deep-seated need to impress your father figure.' Boyce said.
'My what?' Laura asked, feeling a bit reddened.
Boyce ignored Laura and addressed the rest of the class. 'Looks like we are out of time again. I do hope next time we can get through the entire lecture without having to stop for...things...along the way. He turned towards Laura’s chair, met her gaze and continued to address the class. 'Remember your reading for next week is the first chapter on repetitive behavior in children. You'll find a fine examination of Pavlov's dog in it. Maybe, if Miss Davis is so kind, we shall even get to discuss that next week.'
Boyce walked out of the room without answering any of the students’ questions. The students piled out after collecting their books and coats. Laura sat in her desk flabbergasted.
'That's why I stick with facts. Science. I choose to accept science.' Matthew, a course-mate said to her as he picked up his bag.
'It's a crazy world we live in, and the quicker we understand that, the better.' Matthew left Laura alone in the classroom and shut the light off on her.
Laura got off her chair and made her way through the dark and out the door. She walked towards the exit of floor 3E to where she was supposed to meet Henry.
A couple of minutes and corridors later, she found him. Henry was happily talking to Matthew. Laura groaned to herself.
'Wow....you still with...'
'Paula?' asked Matthew.
'Yeah, the blonde.' Henry added.
Matthew told Henry it was a long story but promised to tell him some other time. Laura had caught up with the two of them and Henry was nice to do the introductions.
'Right, yes. Laura this is Matthew. Matthew, this is...'
'Laura Davis. Yes, we've met.' She cut in.
'If that's what you want to call it. I'm shocked he can even see his way around the halls with his head shoved so far up Boyce's arse.' Laura added.
'I see Matthew has been working his world famous charm on you then' Henry asked.
'Not my fault Boyce is right. I guess some of us weren't cut out for psychology...'
'I was going to invite you for a quick bevy mate. Maybe that's not such a good idea.' Henry said to Matthew, swapping looks between Matthew and Laura. He did not like the turn the conversation was taking at all.
'No, he's your friend. Maybe he'll be different once away from his normal residence of Boyce's arse-hole.'
Matthew gave a sarcastic sneer. 'No matter how tempting it is to have a drink with you and Miss Davis here, gee, a girl like you still a Miss? You think the blokes would be lining up for you?'
'Matthew...' warned Henry.
'Sorry. Right, no. I actually would love to, but gotta shoot. Too many late nights.'
'Come on, just one pint. Haven’t seen you in years. A swift half won't hurt. It's on me.' Henry was at his best when in a persuasive mode. He has always had that gift coupled with a cheeky Irish smile that soon got Matthew to agree to his request. He then turned to Matthew as he reached into his jacket for his cigarettes
'Must have been a hell of a psych class...' he said lighting one up.
'Long story, let’s drink.' Matthew said, walking off after Laura.
'I second that ' Henry replied with enthusiasm, putting away the packet and following.
Chapter 25
The pub was a no-fancy, small, non-chain pub. It was the type that still had a pinball machine with the high score from 1975. A dartboard next to it was nearly as pockmarked as the wall on which it hung. Smoke was thick in some parts of the pub. It was so thick, it hung static as if part of the fixtures. Laura knew she'd come home smelling like an ashtray no matter what.
For a place so near to the campus, there was a lack of the younger crowd. Most of the lot looked lived in; people more on the way out of than the way in. A small table of French migrants played a card game in the corner. The drink specials were written in chalk on the board. Tonight was Guinness 2 for 1. Henry carried four drinks to the table which made Laura ask if Henry was expecting someone else.
'Two for one. Never buy three with a two for one.' Henry explained.
'Then who gets the extra or do we just share?' asked Laura.
Matthew laughed. 'First one done wins. That's the prize. Always has been.'
They took their glasses and gave a small salute. 'Thank you for buying, but I offered you the drink. Shouldn't I have bought?' Laura asked.
'Henry let a woman buy a drink? My Lord, you really must be whacked to think that'd ever happen.' Matthew said.
'Enough about me, mate. I'm sure she'll figure out the horror stories soon enough. What about you? What have you been up to?' Henry asked Matthew.
Matthew took a pull from his pint and told Henry he had not been doing much. He also mentioned changing jobs and partners as well. Henry also asked about Paula who he thought Matthew was going to marry, but was surprised to hear they had broken off their relationship. When Laura asked why, he simply gave the important details. He had caught Paula having an affair with a neighbor of theirs and another guy right in their bedroom. Like that wasn’t bad enough for unwarranted punishment, Paula also kicked him out of the house, leaving him no choice but to move in with his sister, Jenny, whom he actually never had a smooth relationship with.
'She gripes a bit, but it's a small price to pay for a roof over your head, isn’t it?' Matthew reflects for a moment, and then decided to draw the focus away from his problems.
'No more about that wag stuff. What about you two? How did you two meet? I had no idea that you...'
Henry choked on his pint. 'No. No. we've...'
Laura smiled at Henry. 'We've what? Come on now, darling, don’t be shy!'
''Friends. We're just friends!' Henry said.
'What Prince Charming is trying to say is, we had just met. I'm in his Parapsychology class.'
'Para...ah, that would explain it. You're one of those nutters, aren’t you?' Matthew smirked.
'Ok. Truce. It's starting to feel like I'm in a battle. What's been going on?' Henry asked.
'Nothing really. Just Mr. Smooth here is a staunch atheist and can't see...' Laura started.
'Agnostic.'
'Potato, potato. Sorry, he's a staunch 'agnostic' and can't seem to open his mind to other possibilities. Possibilities beyond the currently visible existence.'
'That's what this is about? I thought it was because you made yourself look a fool in Boyce's class. Listen, sweetheart, laws of physics don't change. The so-called paranormal events never happen under controlled conditions.' Matthew submitted.
'Science works within parameters of what is understood. Today, it's one thing, tomorrow, another. Who's to say that tomorrow, scientists won't discover something that changes the status quo and their bloody arrogance.' Laura said.
'Wow. Well opinionated and passionate. I'll say that for you two.' Henry said.
'Sorry, I hate hardline views like that. They just get my goat.' Laura said.
'You both attend classes with conflicting views. I can see the argument from both sides. As a parapsychologist, I find I have to keep an open mind. As a scientist, I validate all I do with science. Just like I said in class. It's far too easy to go fully one way as Mr. Science can never be wrong or the other as Mr. Crackpot I want to be a television star ghost hunter. The key is balance. Otherwise, either extreme can be the most dangerous outlook of them all... So quiet in here!' Henry said looking at nothing else but his beer.
'People knew you were coming.' Laura teased.
'Hold up mate. Parapsychology. Why? Thought you were always into cars and bikes. I never thought...' Matthew said.
'Yeah, true.' Henry said while he nodded. 'I was, but then something changed.'
'Like what?' asked Matthew.
Henry sank into his chair. He looked past Laura to the wall and started to speak, 'Two strange events in my life drove me to it I guess. But you're right. Most of my interest lay in cars and bikes.
'But there was more to me than that. I always had a spiritual awareness since I was a kid. Being part of a Catholic family does that to you, you know. Mum was Catholic. I mean capital C type Catholic. Confessionals, Communion, Hail Mary's, all that stuff. I thought the whole world was Catholic when I was young. Aunts. Cousins. Friends. Just about blooming everyone I knew.' Henry’s accent had reverted back to his Irish childhood.
'Dad?' asked Laura.
'Not really. Don't know much to be honest. He scampered off early. Mum said he bolted when the first nappy needed changing and hasn't been seen since.' Henry played with his beer a bit.
'Quite unusual that everyone around you was Catholic though?' Laura responded.
Henry's eyes never left his Guinness.
'Almost everyone. There was this one family down the road. Some Romanian family. Immigrants from some war or another. They had a daughter, Abigail. Small little thing, but so was I back then. I think I was five or six at the time. We'd hang out all the time after school. Light of my life, she was.'
'Please don't tell me you found your soul-mate at five.' Matthew said.
Henry ignored the comment and kept his eyes on his beer. His fingers were tracing the glass's edge.
'Her family, they never mixed with anybody. Not everyone in the neighborhood was friendly to them in return I guess. Outsiders are outsiders, as my mum would say. Henry still stared at his beer. Sadness was welling up inside of him.
'Only me and Abigail would play together. All sorts of dumb things in the garden. Real innocent like. She hardly spoke a word. I think she was embarrassed by her accent. I thought it was smart.' Henry admitted. He took a sip from his pint and set the beer down. He apologized for being the object of boredom and was about to stop telling his story when Matthew cheered him on. Laura had developed a keen interest in Henry’s story as well, so she asked him to continue as well.
Henry picked up from where he left off.
'It's just…It's just that the last conversation we had was about this thing called Night People. She asked if I saw Night People.'
'Night People? What are they?' Laura asked.
'Not sure. But the way she said it told me she was scared. Not just scared like she just watched a scary movie, but really scared. Scared like she thought she might not wake up the next morning. I hadn't a clue back then. I was five years old. Why would I? I have an idea now. But I just can't be sure.' Henry said.
'Was she abused? Maybe the so called Night People were just her weirdo parents sexually abusing her.' Matthew asked.
'They weren't weird, just different. And no, she wasn't abused. Least I don't think she was. We never had any conversations after that, so I can't say really.'
'Why not?' Laura asked.
'The whole family. Friends too. I think they were friends. They came to her house that night. And...' Henry paused, unsure to continue.
'And what? You can tell us, Henry.' Laura was impatient to reach the climax of the story.
'Well, and... they were slaughtered that night. The police came over to question me about it. I guess I was the last person to see them all alive.'
'Are you serious?' Matthew asked.
'As a heart attack.' Henry responded.
'Jesus, Henry. You never said anything about that. I'm sorry.' 'Not a lively conversation starter is it? Hi, I'm Henry and when I was five, the police questioned me about the complete slaughter of my best friend's entire family....'
Matthew asked if the police rounded up the criminals who committed such grave crime, but Henry told him they didn’t as the bodies were seriously torn up. He also touched on the tabloids headlining the story, reporting that a mad psychopath had slain a family while a little girl survived. Though he had no facts to prove the gory incident yet, Henry strongly believed the papers reported rumors. He also said Abigail was taken into care and didn’t see her for years until one day, out of the blue, he started receiving letters from her.
Henry recalled that Abigail never told him where she was and wouldn’t provide a return address which saw to it that his letters never reached Abigail. He told them he guessed she shuffled around a lot and wrote to him just for comfort, for some connection to her life before the tragedy.
He revisited the memories he had with Abigail and could almost swear they had some sort of connection. A few months after she settled somewhere and he could write back to her, the letters just stopped. It wasn’t long before an official sent him a post from the place that was supposed to be Abi’s new home, asking him not to write anymore as Abi had passed on.
'Didn't expect that. Shit. Sorry...just hate talking about it. Not even sure why it popped into my head.' Henry said and finished his pint. 'Looks like I win, eh?' he picked up the spare pint and started on it.
'Two things. Two things, you said. 'Matthew jumped in. His manner always left a lot to be desired, coming off a bit curt.
Henry sighed. 'Years ago, I met this girl at a party. I had a few to drink and had some courage. I mean, you know me, I was never good with the ladies. But, we talked for ages. She was easy to talk to and was a great listener as well. I felt so comfortable with her. We started dating. Things were okay for a while and then it all went strange.'
'In what way?' Laura asked.
'Nothing major at first. Small things. I invited her to my place for dinner and left her in the front room so I could finish preparing the meal. When I returned, reflective items like small mantelpiece mirrors had been reversed. Never saw her with a mirror. Not even one of them compacts. Never ever. I thought it might be something with self-confidence. She's an attractive girl, but even attractive girls can have self-confidence issues.'
'You're not gonna tell me she was a vampire for Christ's sake?' asked Matthew.
'Vampire? No. I wish. Not that. A couple of weeks later, I went over to her place. It was a small bungalow in fact. She said she didn't like large houses. Joss sticks. Salt on floors. No mirrors in sight—not even in the bathroom. Puzzled me, I must admit.
Henry told Matthew how he had asked her about her “mirror allergy” which upset her and took him about half an hour to calm her. He also narrated how all they did was sit on her sofa and stare at the wall clock and while asking him to leave from time to time. She never let him stay in her house at night as well.
'Weird, right?' Henry asked
'If not a vampire, it sounds like a serious case of O.C.D.' Matthew said dismissively.
Sooner than he had envisaged, Henry was made to continue his narration. He explained that ever since she was young, objects would move on their own accord and she was often blamed when keys, trinkets and jewelry went missing. They would reappear, of course, but days later and in some obscure place. He recalled that she also described some silhouette like people moving around her house at night. Henry thought her description matched the one Abigail gave about the Night People.
He also told his attentive audience about the time the little pranks changed into something more malicious, forcing her family to bring in a medium in an effort to stop things. He said they held a séance.
But to their utter disadvantage, that was when it got worse. Huge pieces of furniture suddenly grew imaginary wings and began to fly while ornaments commenced the infamous smashing process. She had told Henry when narrating her experience that that was all she could remember as the rest of the incident was a blur.
'Did they get rid of it? The ghost?' Laura appeared to be totally engrossed in Henry’s story.
Henry shook his head. 'Don't believe it was a ghost. I think it was something else. Something...darker. But to answer your question, no. She couldn't even settle in one place after that.'
'What? It followed her?' Laura asked, still curious.
Henry nodded. 'Everywhere she went. I found out later, that it was probably an Attachment.'
'An Attachment?' asked Matthew.
'Yes, haunting revolving around a location. Like a building or something believed to harbor some intense emotional activity such as murder, attachments are drawn to those places and then linked to a person whom the activity follows no matter where they move to.'
'Like a curse?' asked Laura.
'Curses are usually instigated by other people.' Henry responded.
'My point exactly.' Matthew smirked.