against the wall.
At last she fell silent. The chair jolted lower with a nauseating jerk. The head rolled up again.
“You won’t?” she asked.
I fought the urge to laugh hysterically.
We sat in the dark, so I never knew if the others were crying like I was. Sometime around three in the morning, she and Giuliano finished talking. He had helped her to understand that whatever long and painful journey she had taken, she had yet another one before her, one that we all hoped would lead to peace.
“We could banish you out of this body you are in,” Giuliano told her very gently. “We could put you in a place where you would remain until transformed. But this thing I would not want to do. It would be better for you to set out on your own.”
“But where am I going? What comes after?”
“I do not know,” Giuliano replied. For a moment, I saw the abyss of death in my mind, of not being, and it was as lonely as her voice.
I leaned against the wall and slipped in and out of a haze of exhaustion. Giuliano, Emilio, and Anna Maria seemed tireless, patiently turning the spirit’s thoughts toward leaving Signora Galeazzo’s body. I had to struggle to stay awake and focus on what was happening, so much so that I didn’t realize that Signora Galeazzo’s chair had nearly floated to the floor.
When the voice finally departed, it didn’t flee out of Signora Galeazzo’s throat like an avalanche, as my demon had left mine. It expelled itself softly, on a sigh. The chair landed on the floor with a scrape and a thump, Signora Galeazzo’s rigid body falling limp, her head and chest slumping. Giuliano and Emilio ran forward at the same time to keep her from sliding out of her seat.
“Bed is best, now,” Giuliano said to Paolo, who nodded and showed them the way.
I noticed that there had been a lamp on in the room the entire time we had been there, yet somehow the gloom of possession had prevented it from illuminating anything at all. Now it gave out a small pool of yellow light, warming the walls andthe stately old furniture. I used it to find my way to a chair (not the one Signora Galeazzo had been sitting in), feeling tears starting again in my eyes. Francesco sat down beside me. Anna Maria stood at the table, packing her tools away in their case. She clasped it shut and began on Emilio’s, turning to us to say, “I have a shoot in four hours, and all I want to do is lie down and sleep.”
Francesco ran his fingers through his wild hair and replied, “Can’t you take a bunch of drugs like the other ones do?”
She snorted (again I was reminded of my grandfather). “Been there, done that. It just makes you ignorant. Anyway, I can’t afford a habit.…” She gestured to the air where Signora Galeazzo had been. “I need to keep my wits about me,” she added fiercely.
“ Basta , basta , I didn’t mean it,” he said, waving his hands to placate her.
I wondered why anybody with a glamorous job like hers would want to bother doing her family’s work as well. I knew I wanted to do it, though I wasn’t sure why exactly, but I couldn’t see why Anna Maria felt so passionately about it. It didn’t seem quite the profession for somebody who had to keep their nails perfect, not to mention their hair and skin and all that. But then my thoughts drifted back to the spirit, the woman who had come so far. Had she made the painful journey back here for nothing? What would happen to her now? Were there thousands like her, their rage and grief unnassuaged? Did each body I had seen lying on that stretchof earth house an angry spirit? What about all the other holocausts?
I thought about these things all the way home, too tired to try to ask them out loud. We took a long time stumbling home. Sometimes I could hear whispers above me in the alleyways and streets, but I was too tired to care how vulnerable I might be.
I think Giuliano steered me to the door of my room; I remember opening it and falling into bed. Only as I slid
At last she fell silent. The chair jolted lower with a nauseating jerk. The head rolled up again.
“You won’t?” she asked.
I fought the urge to laugh hysterically.
We sat in the dark, so I never knew if the others were crying like I was. Sometime around three in the morning, she and Giuliano finished talking. He had helped her to understand that whatever long and painful journey she had taken, she had yet another one before her, one that we all hoped would lead to peace.
“We could banish you out of this body you are in,” Giuliano told her very gently. “We could put you in a place where you would remain until transformed. But this thing I would not want to do. It would be better for you to set out on your own.”
“But where am I going? What comes after?”
“I do not know,” Giuliano replied. For a moment, I saw the abyss of death in my mind, of not being, and it was as lonely as her voice.
I leaned against the wall and slipped in and out of a haze of exhaustion. Giuliano, Emilio, and Anna Maria seemed tireless, patiently turning the spirit’s thoughts toward leaving Signora Galeazzo’s body. I had to struggle to stay awake and focus on what was happening, so much so that I didn’t realize that Signora Galeazzo’s chair had nearly floated to the floor.
When the voice finally departed, it didn’t flee out of Signora Galeazzo’s throat like an avalanche, as my demon had left mine. It expelled itself softly, on a sigh. The chair landed on the floor with a scrape and a thump, Signora Galeazzo’s rigid body falling limp, her head and chest slumping. Giuliano and Emilio ran forward at the same time to keep her from sliding out of her seat.
“Bed is best, now,” Giuliano said to Paolo, who nodded and showed them the way.
I noticed that there had been a lamp on in the room the entire time we had been there, yet somehow the gloom of possession had prevented it from illuminating anything at all. Now it gave out a small pool of yellow light, warming the walls andthe stately old furniture. I used it to find my way to a chair (not the one Signora Galeazzo had been sitting in), feeling tears starting again in my eyes. Francesco sat down beside me. Anna Maria stood at the table, packing her tools away in their case. She clasped it shut and began on Emilio’s, turning to us to say, “I have a shoot in four hours, and all I want to do is lie down and sleep.”
Francesco ran his fingers through his wild hair and replied, “Can’t you take a bunch of drugs like the other ones do?”
She snorted (again I was reminded of my grandfather). “Been there, done that. It just makes you ignorant. Anyway, I can’t afford a habit.…” She gestured to the air where Signora Galeazzo had been. “I need to keep my wits about me,” she added fiercely.
“ Basta , basta , I didn’t mean it,” he said, waving his hands to placate her.
I wondered why anybody with a glamorous job like hers would want to bother doing her family’s work as well. I knew I wanted to do it, though I wasn’t sure why exactly, but I couldn’t see why Anna Maria felt so passionately about it. It didn’t seem quite the profession for somebody who had to keep their nails perfect, not to mention their hair and skin and all that. But then my thoughts drifted back to the spirit, the woman who had come so far. Had she made the painful journey back here for nothing? What would happen to her now? Were there thousands like her, their rage and grief unnassuaged? Did each body I had seen lying on that stretchof earth house an angry spirit? What about all the other holocausts?
I thought about these things all the way home, too tired to try to ask them out loud. We took a long time stumbling home. Sometimes I could hear whispers above me in the alleyways and streets, but I was too tired to care how vulnerable I might be.
I think Giuliano steered me to the door of my room; I remember opening it and falling into bed. Only as I slid
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