Pam (16 page)

It wasn’t a good day. I felt guilty when I faced
Pam
, as if I had
committed
an atrocity
by
visiting her former father
-
in
-
law. By not telling her
,
I was lying. But I
feared
telling her because I
didn’t
want to breach our trust.

I kept the visit professional, probably more professional than I had ever been. Her mood was good, upbeat and excited about dinner with her son.

That was something else I didn’t want to dampen.
I had just made it home
and realized I forgot Pam’s ‘murder’ folder at the office. I was stressed
; I
changed my clothes, grabbed a drink
,
and that was when I got the call from
S
tate.

A
patient
there had been admitted for violent behavior
;
her family swore she was posse
sse
d by a demon. I was there as a consult, there
w
as another
psychiatrist
in the room, a medical doctor
,
and a priest. Just to evaluate.

I believed in science
;
I knew how powerful the m
ind could be. I myself had rule
d
ou
t
the possibility of possession before I walked in the door.
Admittedly
, had I not been a man of science I would
have
wondered.

The woman of
thirty
was pale, her face pasty white with scratch marks across her cheeks.
She had dark rings
under eyes and
her
hair
was
tangled. They had her restrained when I arrive
d
. She thrashed quite a bit.

Thorazine had been administered
,
but
she hadn’t calmed down.

She screamed
and
gurgled
;
her neck ar
ched
as she cried out in ang
er
. Every time she twisted, turned and thrashed, her
hospital
gown rose a little more over her nude body.

Doctor Adams, the medical professional on hand, calmly stated that with
such a
behavioral
switch
, it was possible that she had a tumor.

Then he said, “
What
do
you think?”

What did I think?

He didn’t want to know what I thought. I observed the woman, her arms tied to the railing, her legs to the bottom of the bed. She squirmed, her left breast exposed
,
and her gown pushed up to her waist exposing her Amazonian private parts.

I’d fuck that demon right out of her
, is what I thought.

It was perverted, but within the realm of my own illness. While they consulted each other, tossing out ideas of what could be the problem
, m
y mind
conjured
up the most bizarre fantasy. If
I were
giving
an award for the most outlandish fantasy, it would go to me.

“What do you suggest?” One of them asked, I don’t know who. I was
slipping;
the ‘wave’ had come. It crept up on me when I first saw her and was in full force
hours
later.

“I have an idea,” I said. “It may be extreme. But it will work.”

“Good God
,
man, do what
needs
to
be done.”

I nodded and instructed everyone but the priest to leave the room.

I told him, “Father, just pray. We’
re
dealing with a demon. Ignore what you hear and see.”

He made the sign of the
cross
and pulled out his
B
ible and holy water.

When
the
other
s
had left the room, the girl
thrashed
.

“Fuckin
g
pig!” she blasted. “You know you want this body!”
H
er voice was deep
with
gurgling.

“That’s part of the plan.” I nodded at the priest. “
Father
. Begin the
prayer
.” I reached down and ripped
the
hospital
gown from her.
Her body was nude
,
beautiful.
She moved left to right, bound to that bed
,
and I crawled
up
between her legs.
“Demon
,
you
will
leave
this girl.” I undid my pants and shuffled
them
to my knees.
Physically, I was armed and ready.

Despite
her
thrashing
, I grabbed a
hold
of her waist
and was able to mount and enter her.

She growled out loud. But I wasn’t giving up. My comm
and of “Leave this girl’s body!
”
m
atched the rhythm
of
each hard thrust I delivered.
Word for thrust, rather.
I continued in my plight,
determined
to see it through. The priest prayed
loudly
in
his ritualistic chants
,
and I felt the sprinkle of holy water
hit
against my bare a
ss.

We were close to accomplishment. Almost there.

“Dr. Andrews?” Doctor Adams snapped my from my fantasy. “Plan? You said you had a idea?”

“Yes.” I nodded and cleared my throat. “Not really my idea. Yours.
Agreement
. Up her medication
and do the CT scan.”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes. I am. I
have
to go. I’m not feeling well.” I reached for the door. “Keep me updated.”

I
think
they said they would, I wasn’t sure. My head was rushing with blood and my body was aroused to the point my thought process was
disturbed
.

Taking
myself out of th
e
situation was the best solution. Leave. Don’t give in. Go home and take medication. I was in the mindset, in control, almost at my car, promising myself that I wouldn’t take a ride down Ninth Avenue, when my phone rang.

“Desmond Andrews.” Her voice was
whispering
and
seductive
.

I froze in my tracks. “Sharon.”

“I need to see you now,” she said. “Where can we meet?”

“It’s late. It’s almost ten. Can this wait until
morning?
”

“No. You wanted me to call you and to talk to you. Now or never. Your choice.”

Perfect diversion to my perversion … or so I thought. I sighed out in relief. “My office, I can meet you there in twenty minutes.
The front doors will be locked, but I’ll meet you out front.
”

“I’ll be there.” She hung up.

My mind, I believed
,
had found the detour it needed. Meeting Sharon, talking with her some more about Pam. Getting answers. Quickly, I got into my car and headed to my office, pushing the demon girl fantasy further to the back of my mind.

I should have
known
the way she was standing there that I was in trouble.
Sharon leaned
against
the wall next to the double glass doors. In one ha
n
d was a cigarette,
in
the other a brown paper bag. Her leg was up
,
and it extended from the short black coat that she wore.

I stopped. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea.

“I’m waiting. It’s cold,” she said. “Are you
just
going to stand there?”

I
jingled
my keys and pulled out my card that would open the door. “
Sorry
, just was having a weird night.”

“Maybe I can help. I brought the party …” She
lifted
the
bag
.

After punching in my code, I entered the building. There was supposed to be a security guard on duty, but he probably was on break somewhere.

“
No
t
talking much?” she asked as
w
e waited for the elevator.

It opened,
and
we stepped inside. Her perfume was sweet yet not overwhelming. I glanced at her as she watched the floor lights
,
h
er lips shiny and colorful.

“This way,” I said.

“I know where your office is,” she giggled and waited as I opened the door.

We walked
through
the reception area and into my office. I switched on the lights.

“Do you have any glasses?”
S
he held up the bottle.

I looked
a
t
her standing there in that coat.
I would have bet anything she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing
underneath
.

“Yeah, I’ll get them.” I stepped back and gulped when she slid the coat from her. She
wasn’t
naked
;
I had guessed wrong. But she was wearing the
tightest
and shortest black dress I
had
seen
on a
woman
outside of
Ninth Street
.

I walked into the washroom, turned on the light
,
and grabbed two glasses.
When I emerged into my office, she had turned off the overhead lights.

“Better,” she whispered. “Softer lighting is better.”

I stopped before my desk and she walked to me, reaching out for the glasses.
She was getting close and I inched back, but I hit the
front
of my desk.

“Drink?”

I nodded and watched her pour one for each of us. She brought her glass to mine. “To a nice night?
”
She clinked her
glass
against mine
then brought it to her lips, taking a sip.

My
entire thought process of Sharon taking my mind
off
my perversion was out the window when the whiskey crossed her darkened lips and she used her
tongue
to
slowly
clear the residue.

At least I wasn’t thinking of having sex with a possessed girl anymore.

“Why are you here?”

“You know why
.
”
S
he inched to
ward
me. “Desmond
,
I felt it the other day. The way you looked
at
me. Stared. You are
intrigued
by me and rightfully so. I’m
intrigued
by you.” She set down her glass and pressed directly against me.

“Sharon, I don’t feel that this is  …”

“What?”
S
he smiled. “A good idea?” She took my glass and grabbed my hands. Bringing them behind her, she placed my hands on her as
s
and guided me to a slow massage. “What do you feel
now?
”

I closed my eyes and turned my head away. A lump formed in my
throat
. The wave. The wave. The bad girl, the dangerous situation, the forbidden. But this wasn’t just a
fantasy;
it
was
a fantasy playing out.

I actually wonder
ed
when I felt her lips on my neck, if it was my mind, perhaps Sharon
was standing
there talking
away,
and I was
imagining
it.