Lou shrugged. "I wasn't hoping to hear wild, scary things. I just wanted to hear whatever you had to tell me. But I'm sure Hollywood would take a lot of creative liberty with your story."
"They're not going to get my family's story."
"So, things never escalated to a more terrifying level?"
"They did. Once Father O'Leary got involved, Jared's behavior and things that happened in the house got worse."
"Like what?" Lou shifted more comfortably on the stool and then looked at Mr. Smith. "I'm sorry. Please, continue where you left off."
Mr. Smith scratched at the seeds on a strawberry. "I wanted him to see Jared under the guise of counseling him. I didn't think it would be a good idea to just blurt out that I thought my son was possessed."
"You already believed he was possessed when you called Father O'Leary?"
"I was willing to consider the idea because my son was no longer acting like my son."
* * *
When Jared was suspended from school for throwing a book at a teacher's head, Mr. Smith arrived home and marched straight to his son's bedroom.
"Would you care to explain yourself?"
Jared laughed. "Explain what?"
"Your abusive behavior at school," he replied as he sat at Jared's desk. "The abusive behavior that got you suspended."
"Mr. Ferguson was being a dick. He's always been a fucking asshole. It's not like he didn't deserve it. If the book would have nailed him in the head, he would have fucking deserved it."
"This isn't like you. You don't do these things. Why are you acting this way?"
"He smacks his wife around, you know?"
"What? You don't know what happens between Mr. Ferguson and his wife."
"Yes, I do. He smacks her around. He's a mean son of a bitch."
"And how do you know that?"
"I just do."
Mr. Smith exhaled in exasperation. "Jared, you don't know what you're talking about. We need to get a handle on your—"
"I know exactly what the fuck I'm talking about."
The scowl on his son's face sent an icy tingle through Mr. Smith's body. At that moment, he didn't believe he was looking into the eyes of his son. Jared didn't exist in the glassy-eyed glare.
"You need help, son."
Jared stared at the ceiling and chuckled. "Pronto seré libre. Voy a vivir entre ustedes de nuevo."
The voice was that of a full-grown man. He was confident the Spanish had not been spoken by his teenaged son.
Mr. Smith casually retreated to the door. "I'm going to get you the help that you need."
Jared gazed at his father and then started crying. "Where are you going? Don't leave me."
"I'm not leaving you. I'm going to make a phone call. Don't worry. You're going to be your old self again."
"Wait, Dad," Jared sobbed. "I said, don't leave me."
*
On a humid September evening, Mr. Smith walked Father O'Leary out onto the front porch. The priest stood at the edge of the steps. Raising his shoulders with a deep breath, he gazed at the sunset.
The Father had spent nearly thirty minutes with Jared, and Mr. Smith was anxious to hear what the priest thought.
"What do you think?" Mr. Smith asked. "What's your impression?"
Father O'Leary ran a hand through his thin, silvery hair. "Jared is a fine boy."
"Father. Forgive me, but I heard his reaction when you walked into his room."
"It certainly wasn't the warmest welcome I've received. But it wasn't the coldest either."
Leaning against a porch post, Mr. Smith said, "I apologize. He's usually a very respectful young man. He hasn't been himself lately."
"How long has he been out of sorts?"
"Two or three months. It started during the summer."
"And you don't know what may have caused his turn?"
"No." Mr. Smith sat on the top step. "Sometimes he acts like a completely different person."
Father O'Leary sat next to Mr. Smith and steepled his fingers. "The psychologist ruled out mental issues?"
"Basically. She decided not to see him anymore following an incident in her office."
"And what was that?"
"Um. There was banging on her floor. And it seemed to be caused by Jared. But he didn't do it. The banging happened all on its own."
"Hmm." Glancing to the side at Mr. Smith, Father O'Leary asked, "Have there been any disturbances in your home?"
"What kind of disturbances?"
"You and your family haven't attended regular church services for a while now. When kids become teenagers, it's not uncommon for a lot of them to stop going to church. But I've seen you and your wife from time to time. And I still know you and your family." He looked at the sunset again. "You wouldn't have called me here if you didn't suspect something wrong was going on with Jared."
"Honestly, I didn't know who else to turn to. You have a sincere interest in helping people, and you have the courage to take risks."
When Mr. Smith had discussed calling the priest with his wife, they'd agreed that Father O'Leary's devotion to God and the teachings of the Catholic Church were among his strengths. Like Jesus, the priest had committed his life to serving the people without any expectation of reward. They believed Father O'Leary's assistance would be based on honesty and loyalty.
"My opinion," the Father said, "is that there is something ungodly going on with Jared."
The words struck fear within Mr. Smith but also pained his heart. He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes and huffed a sigh of relief. "So, can you help him?"
"Does Jared speak French?"
"No. He doesn't speak any foreign language."
"I used to speak French. But you know what they say, if you don't keep it in practice, it slips away."
"He spoke to me in Spanish."
"Do you know what he said?"
"No. I don't speak Spanish either."
Father O'Leary brushed his knees as if his slacks were dirty. "Montrez-moi la puissance de Dieu. That's what he said to me."
"What does it mean?"
"Show me the power of God."
FOURTEEN
Conner opened the passenger door of his mother's Cadillac SUV. Once Hailey was
