Haunted Hyde

I'm very prolific today--two posts in one day!

Why can't I stop thinking about Narc? I don't know what's wrong with me. I still care about him so much. Maybe I should have exorcised him long ago. Did I have the chance to back in October, and blow it all away? I don't know...

Here's the story:

IrishBird and I were first becoming real friends in the late summer/early fall. One day she asked me out to drinks on her night off. We met up on a Sunday evening and went to the Thirsty Scholar down in the East Village. We talked a lot that night, and learned a lot about each other. IrishBird was going through her break-up with PumpedUp and I was dealing with Narc-drama and saying that I wanted to get off my "medicine" (as usual). IrishBird thought that I could use some "help" to deal with some of my issues.

"What kind of help?" I asked.

"Well, there's a woman who has really helped me. She's actually more like a sort of mother to me," she said. "I was going through some very hard times at one point in my life. This woman saved me--she did! I go to see her every Sunday. She's up in the Bronx. Why don't you come with me next week?"

"Really? I don't know..."

(IrishBird is pretty religious, and I had the feeling this had something to do with religion--something I didn't want to get involved in, that is. It's never good to mix religion and friendship unless you're sure everyone's on the exact same page!)

"It'll be good for you," she assured me. "Just give it a chance!"

"I guess."

The night before our trip to the Bronx, it was Anxious' birthday party here in the city (October 2nd). She drove me up the wall that night! In fact, it's one of the reasons I decidedly avoided her for the next few months. She ended up staying over at my apartment and so on Sunday morning I had to usher her out of the house. I met IrishBird outside the main subway station at Time Square, bright and early, coffee in tow. She surprised me with the gift of a pair of earrings I had admired on her. (Unfortunately, I lost those earrings on Christmas day. Sadness.) I remember being hungover (what else is new?) and that I was deeply touched by her gift.

It was quite a trek to the Bronx. We had to transfer from the express train to a bus and then back onto the train, all because of some track-work. Even once we got off the train, we had to call a car service to take us the final leg of the trip. IrishBird was carrying a half-eaten keylime pie as a gift for our hostess.

When we got there, we approached the apartment up a long creaky stairway; it was located on the second floor of a small building. We rang the bell. A woman answered. It was a crowded 2-bedroom apartment populated by three large dogs, IrishBird's "psychic" friend, her grown daughter and son-in-law and their two children. The son-in-law was laying half-naked on a plastic-covered couch chain smoking with the baby nearby. Ughhh....

"This is the girl that I was telling you about," IrishBird said, as she introduced me.

IrishBird and the psychic went into the psychic's bedroom for a while and they had a private visit. I waited uncomfortably at the kitchen table. Their oversized dog kept trying to put its paws up on my lap. I wasn't into that. The whole house was filthy and crowded and smelled of cigarettes. I wanted to get out of there. After a while, they came out of the room. The psychic told me it was "my turn." I followed her into the bedroom.

She did a tarot reading, and told me that she had to burn some candles over the next week or so in order to "meditate" on my spirit. Only then would she be able to give me a full diagnosis. She said that I should call her in about a week, but that if I needed to talk sooner, I could call her "any time." Of course, I offered her a small fee "for her time." (Although I could already feel a scam coming.)

I felt a little weird about the whole thing after that, and didn't want to get too involved. It was a really touchy issue though, because obviously this woman was really important to IrishBird and I didn't want to offend her at all either--especially since she was inviting me in to something very personal to her. Several days went by and I didn't make the call. I just wanted to let the whole thing drop. After nearly two weeks, and several messages from the psychic, I got a message from her saying that it was "extremely urgent." I saw IrishBird that night--it was actually her birthday (October 19th).

"I know my friend called you," she said. "You should really call her back. I'm telling you Hyde, she turned my life around. I was fallen on hard times and she changed everything for me. I want her to do the same for you."

Okay... I decided to call her back.

"Hyde, I really need to see you," she told me. "I did your candle meditations, and I need for you to come up here and meet me. When can you come? I need you to come as soon as possible."

I told her that the earliest I could come see her would be on Thursday of that week (the 21st). That was also the week that I started dating SeattleGuy. We had a date scheduled for Wednesday the 20th. That night he stayed over at my place and I had to explain to him why I had to be out of there early the next day. He thought the whole story was amusing.

I made the long trip into the Bronx, this time by myself. When I got there, she pulled me into her bedroom.

"I'm so glad that you came, Hyde. It's very important. I've learned of some very negative spirits that are around you."

Basically what she told me is that the awful evil spirits around me are linked to my dad, and that they're probably the same evil spirits that "killed him." (Um, don't you think it's kind of shitty to be so emotionally manipulative?) She told me that if I didn't exorcise these spirits, and soon, that they would kill me too.

"Um, okay... So how do I 'exorcise' them?" I asked.

"I can do that for you," she said. "But only if you want me to and only if you really believe. You have to pray with me."

This was freaking me out. "Um, okay. I'll do it."

She told me that I had to take off my shirt. She lit some candles and took some strange oil and put it on my forehead, my chest and my back. She took out a bottle of Poland Spring water and told me that I had to spit three times into the water bottle. I did so. She then put the water bottle in a brown paper bag. She stood me in the middle of the room and told me to close my eyes. She spun me around a few times. Then she began to sing some kind of chant, rubbing the brown paper bag on my back and chest and forehead, circling around me.

Finally she told me that I could open my eyes. She told me that if the water was still clear in the water bottle, that my soul would be clear as well. But if the water was colored and showed the evil spirits, then our efforts failed and the spirits were still around me.

When she removed the water bottle from the bag, it was turning red. It looked like there was some large piece of bloody tissue in the bottle. It was totally disgusting. I felt very disoriented and uncomfortable.

"These are the spirits," she said. "These are the evil spirits that have been around you. Our praying didn't work."

"So now what?" I asked.

"Well, we need to bury these spirits. If we don't get them far away from you, they'll bring such evil into your life. We have to do this."

"Fine," I said. "Let's bury them."

(Let the scam begin...)

"Well," she said, "the problem is this--we can't bury them just anywhere. We need to give them a real church funeral. That might cost you a little money."

"How much money?"

"Well, I don't want this to be expensive for you. Let me call Sister Anna and see how cheaply we can do this."

She pretended to make some kind of phone call. When she "hung up" the phone, she gave me the price--$1500.

"That's a lot of money," I said. "Where exactly will these 'spirits' be burried?"

"Um, overseas."

"Where overseas?"

"In Canada."

(Um, what 'sea' separates us from Canada? This lady was losing me.)

"Well, what's the name of the place where they'll be burried?"

"I can't tell you that. It's better that way. You should have no connection to where these spirits go."

"Well, $1500 is a little much for me. I can't really afford that," I said. "I'd have to think about this." (Really, at that point, I just wanted to get out of there without being rude.)

"What is there to think about?" she asked. "You must do this. Otherwise, these spirits are going to kill you."

"Well, let me talk to my mom or something."

"Why your mother?" she asked. "You can't talk to anyone about this. You can't tell anyone for at least two weeks."

"Well, how soon would I have to let you know?"

"Three days."

"I really don't have the money," I said. "I have to get going."

"Well, we could work out a payment plan," she suggested.

"I'll let you know."

I got up and started collecting my things. I was out of there.

On the bus on the way back, I called Narc and left him a message. I felt really unsettled. I mean, I don't believe in that sort of thing in general, and the woman was obviously trying to scam me, but even still. It made me nervous. What if there was anything to it and I opted to not bury the spirits and it ruined my life? Ughhh.... (Predictably, by the way, Narc never called me back. But when I saw him the next night, he reassured me that this woman was a scam-artist.)

That night I went to see "Dialogue of the Carmelites" with Hammer at City Opera. (It was amazing). I tried to forget all about the psychic. I never called her back. IrishBird asked me about it a few times and encouraged me to call. I told IrishBird that I just couldn't believe in it. Things were weird between the two of us for a little while, but that didn't last for long.

Anyway, why is this incident on my mind?

Here's the thing that I've been thinking about lately--
My life has been chaotic and difficult since around July. In a one week period (the first week in July), I met Narc, bumped into the Stallion, started drinking regularly and started taking medicine again. Since then, so many things have gone wrong. (From the date-rape thing to my brother's accident, etc.) And it's all been since I started up with Narc. Maybe Narc is just some kind of "bad spirit" in disguise?

I don't know... It's been almost two months since our "break up" and I'm still thinking about him. Maybe I'm just looking for an excuse to write him off so I can stop thinking about him. Am I being obssessive? Well, I guess it's only been a few weeks since I saw him, and even shorter since we last spoke. (And I guess that's normal according to the break-up recovery rule that says that it takes half the length of the relationship to get over it entirely).

I don't know... When I started writing this post, I was convinced that my life is haunted and that I should have buried those spirits. Now I feel deflated and like that's stupid, and I'm wondering why I bothered to write out this whole story.

To make matters worse, as of the last five minutes, I'm sad. B and I were supposed to have lunch today, but he texted me last night to cancel, asking if we could have dinner instead. Well, I can't do dinner. I have plans tonight. I called him this morning to tell him that and he said he couldn't talk because he's with his girlfriend.

"What about our plans?" I asked.

"I didn't realize they were set in stone," he said.

Whatever. He sucks. I'm mad at him now.

I think I just need to get out of my house. I should have left here an hour ago. I'm starting to feel malaise.

later...

-hyde