by Caitlin O’Halloran
It was seconds after midnight, and an old woman was sitting on a park bench with a lit cigarette in her mouth, holding a loaf of bread in her lap. She tore off small pieces of bread and threw them to the dozens of birds that had gathered around her. She was alone for many hours, just her and the birds, who stayed with her even after they had eaten every last crumb.
Then a laugh came from somewhere behind her. She looked over her shoulders, first the left and then the right, but saw nothing. “Who’s there?” She jumped up to her feet and took out a pocket flashlight, which she swept aggressively across the base of the trees. “Come out now if you want to live.”
A man walked toward her, palms out, arms raised above his head, to show her he meant no harm. But his laughter had become near hysterical.
“Robbie,” she scoffed. “I should have known. Scare an old woman half to death why don’t you?”
“I’m sorry, Greta. It’s just too funny. You and all these birds. They aren’t even nocturnal, are they? You just like to keep them awake past their bedtime.”
“These birds don’t mind. They sleep when I sleep.” She gazed back at the birds, who had now formed a perfect circle around her. “Now what is it? What’s got you coming here to see me after all these years?” Robbie stuck his hands in his pockets, looking sheepishly at the ground. “You need a favor, don’t you?”
“You’re right. I do. And I’m sorry it’s been so long. Really I am, and we can have a real heart-to-heart after all this, but truth is I’m in desperate need of a banishment.”
Greta sat back down on the bench, shaking her head. “I’m done with all that. Banishment spells take too much out of me. I’m semi-retired, you know.”
“I know. I know. But I was hoping you’d make an exception for me.”
Greta took her time in answering, allowing the dramatic pause to lengthen to what most would find uncomfortable. “Tell me what kind of banishment you need, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“I don’t know what it is exactly. It’s a presence, some kind of energetic entity. I sense it when I tuck my kids into bed at night. They beg me to check under their beds to make sure no monsters are hiding down there. I always do it, and when I tell them there’s nothing there, that’s the truth. But what I can’t tell them is that I know it’s waiting by the door, watching us. And when I leave, it follows me and lies beside me later when I try to sleep.”
“And what does your wife think?”
“I didn’t realize you hadn’t heard. She passed away. It’ll be three years this September.”
“And you don’t think this presence might be her, keeping an eye on the kids?”
Robbie paused, considering his answer. “I don’t see how it could be. When Candice was alive, I always felt safe next to her. She always put me at ease. But what I feel when I sense this being is something more like dread. It can’t be her.”
“Your feelings are your feelings. They could very well be separate from the intentions of this entity. How do you know it’s malevolent? Is it just because you say so?” Greta scooted over on the bench and gestured for Robbie to sit next to her.
“I guess I don’t know for certain, but what else can I do? I need my children to feel safe. I need to feel safe.”
Greta nodded decisively and opened the palm of her hand. One of the birds flew into it, cooing as it shook its wings. “Take this bird. It will rid you of this entity, whomever it may be. But please remember, this cannot be undone.”
“Thank you, Greta. Truly.” The bird flew from her hand, landing on Robbie’s shoulder. He walked several yards toward the small locked gate. Before hopping over it to head home, he turned back to wave goodbye, but Greta was already gone.