Cecelia's devils - a story. Part 3
Part 3 - Not much cooperation
‘Cecelia, do you know why I am here?’
The young girl looked at her and said nothing.
Rosalind forged on. ‘You know aunty is a Christian.'Silence.' And she is strong. She has told me to remove the spirits that you use.’
Cecelia said not a word. Her face was still, her eyes fixed on Rosalind. She showed no fear, no concern and no curiosity.
Cecelia, if you tell me who is with you, I can remove them from you, and you will be free. I have someone with me. He is stronger than your spirits and he will help you. Are you hearing me?’
The girl moved her head, but it was not a nod of agreement. It was not anything.
Rosalind sighed. The girl was giving nothing. She would need help.
‘Give me your hand.’ Cecelia opened her hand on the table. Rosalind placed hers on it and listened. Her groaning began. And she whispered for about a minute.
‘Aunty, could I have some paper and a pencil please?’ Rosalind called. She still had Cecelia’s hand in hers on the table. While the paper was coming, she spoke gently, but firmly.
‘Cecelia, God has shown me some things about you. He showed me so that you will understand that he sees everything.’ The paper arrived. Aunty returned through the open-plan living room and sank back in her reading.
First Rosalind named then asked her who the smaller spirits were and what they did. The girl muttered her replies. This one was responsible for one type of mischief. This, for another. Rosalind would have smiled in any other setting at some of the names the Spirit had given her. They sounded theatrical or just nonsensical. She sent them out instantly and there was no fuss. But there was a way to go yet. Now the more senior spirits were being called. Rosalind could tell because Cecelia was slowing down her answers.
‘ Who is Big Fish?’ Rosalind demanded. Silence.
Who is Big Fish? With glutinous reluctance, Cecelia began to speak about the spirit. Her calm was slipping. She darted her eyes away and back as if she were distracted by something in the still, quiet dining room.
‘He takes us to the meeting.’
'Which meeting?' Patience.
'The one we go at night.'
'Really? What do you do there?' Rosalind knew the answers but Cecelia needed to work with her.
‘We discuss... and we eat.’
Mmmhn. You eat. What do you eat?
'We eat meat.'
Rosalind switched. Her tone was hard, her eyes fierce. 'What do you mean by you eat meat? No be person? ' She spoke the last in native pidgin English . Translated, the term asked 'Do you not mean people?'
‘Yes’ was the short, gasped reply.
Rosalind groaned in her spirit.
While she had been speaking earlier, Rosalind had been drawing. She showed Cecelia a drawing on the paper of something that looked like a metal grid.
'What is this?' Rosalind asked.
Cecelia bent her head to one side . Her eyes looked unhappy.
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