Walking Through Walls by Philip Smith

encircle this body in the white light of healing protection. Remove all negative energies and entities, and send them to their proper plane…” This prayer put the finishing touch on the exorcism. Apparently this was all too much for the devil, and he just up and skedaddled out of that girl.
    As she calmed down, my father began to slowly bend closer to her, holding his cross about three inches above her body. He waved it over her from head to toe as if he were disinfecting her. My steady diet of nature shows such as Wild Kingdom had me thinking, “Don’t get too close, she’s going to pounce.” I was not far from wrong. Without any warning, she sat bolt upright, as if an electric current had just surged through her body. I thought she was going to stand up and start sleepwalking zombie style. Then, just as suddenly, she collapsed back onto the floor, sprawled out like she was nailed to a cross, and fell into a deep comatose sleep. I felt as if a kind of irritating static electricity had suddenly lifted from the room. The air now seemed clear and calm.
    Her mother started weeping uncontrollably. My father looked back at the parents and said, “The devil’s gone, she’s fine. Let her sleep. When she wakes she won’t remember any of this. It’s over now.” The husband remained silent.
    â€œBut how could this have happened?” the mother asked. “She’s usually such a good girl. Yes, we have our problems with boys and stuff, but nothing like this, never.”
    â€œWe are surrounded by dark forces,” my father answered. “At any given time, they are looking to find a place to rest, a host that will give them physical form. These are people who died violently but still can’t acknowledge that they are dead. As a result, they are desperate to take over someone’s body so they can continue to live on the physical plane, here on earth.”
    â€œBut Melissa didn’t do drugs. She is not a bad girl.”
    â€œThere are a thousand ways this could have happened. Sometimes dark forces can enter the body while you are sleeping. You never quite know how this happens. You always have to protect yourself and surround yourself with the white light of protection: Christ’s light.” My father smiled at the woman and reached out to shake her hand. She seemed comforted. In some way this explanation had made sense to her.
    As we prepared to leave, the woman said to us, “May I offer you some coffee and cake? I can put up some instant coffee, and I just baked some angel food cake.” I knew better than to eat anything from a kitchen where the devil had probably been nibbling away at boxes of cereal and spaghetti like a mouse. Thankfully, my father also declined.
    Finally the husband spoke up. “Why, preacher, I got to thank you for saving my little girl. Damn! Ah don’t know what the hell came over her. She just started screamin’ and cussin’ like some bobcat caught in a trap. Ah never seen nothin’ like this before.”
    â€œFrank!” admonished his wife. “Don’t talk that way in front of Father Smith—especially after what we just went through.”
    â€œShe’s fine now,” my father reassured them. “I’m glad to be of service. God bless you.” After the good-byes and handshakes, we left. Boy, was I happy to get out of there. I had seen enough of that creepy naked girl in that room to last me a lifetime. It was getting dark as we got into the car to drive away.
    â€œHow come they called you Father? You’re not their father.”
    â€œWell, it’s just a formality. They were being respectful and appreciative. I think that’s what they say to their priest, and maybe they think of me as a priest. In the old days, priests used to do exorcisms all the time.”
    â€œBut you’re not a priest.”
    â€œWell, in a way I am. I try to help people find God or to do