moment. 'And yet even from this---from evil---will come good. In some way. In some way that we may never understand or ever see.' Merrin paused. 'Perhaps evil is the crucible of goodness,' he brooded. 'And perhaps even Satan---Satan, in spite of himself---somehow serves to work out the will of God.'
He said no more, and for a time they stood in silence while Karras reflected. Another objection came to mind. 'Once the demon's driven out,' he probed, 'what's to keep it from coming back in?'
'I don't know,' Merrin answered. 'I don't know. And yet it never seems to happen. Never. Never.' Merrin put a hand to his face, tightly pinching at the corners of his eyes. 'Damien... what a wonderful name,' he murmured. Karras heard exhaustion in the voice. And something else. Some anxiety. Something like repression of pain.
Abruptly, Merrin pushed himself away from the wall, and with his face still hidden in his hand; he excused himself and hurried down the hall to the bathroom. What was wrong? wondered Karras. He felt a sudden envy and admiration for the exorcist's strong and simple faith. He turned toward the door. The singing. It had stopped. Had the night at last ended?
Some minutes later, Sharon came out of the bedroom with a foul-smelling bundle of bedding and clothing. 'She's sleeping now,' she said. She looked away quickly and moved off down the hall.
Karras took a deep breath and returned to the bedroom. Felt the cold. Smelled the stench. He walked slowly to the bedside. Regan. Asleep. At last. And at last, thought Karras, he could rest.
He reached down and gripped Regan's thin wrist, looking at the sweep-second hand of his watch.
'Why you do this to me, Dimmy?'
His heart froze.
'Why you do this?'
The priest could not move, did not breathe, did not dare to glance over to that sorrowful voice, did not dare see those eyes really there: eyes accusing, eyes lonely. His mother. His mother!
'You leave me to be priest, Dimmy; and send me institution....'
Don't look!
'Now you chase me away?...'
It's not her!
'Why you do this?...'
His head throbbing, heart in his throat, Karras shut his eyes tightly as the voice grew imploring, grew frightened, grew, tearful. 'You always good boy, Dimmy. Please! I am 'fraid! Please no chase me outside, Dimmy! Please!'
... not my mother!
'Outside nothing! Only dark, Dimmy! Lonely!' Now tearful.
'You're not my mother!' Karras vehemently whispered.
'Dimmy. please!...'
'You're not my---'
'Oh, for heaven's sake, Karras!'
Dennings.
'Look, it simply isn't fair to drive us out of here! Really!
I mean, speaking for myself it's only justice I should be here! Little bitch! She took my body and I think it only right that I ought to be allowed to stay in hers, don't you think? Oh, for Christ's sake, Karras, look at me, now would you? Come along! It isn't very often I get out to speak my piece. Just turn around -now.'
Karras opened up his eyes and saw the Dennings personality.
'There, that's better. Look, she killed me. Not our innkeeper, Karras---she! Oh, yes, indeed!' It was nodding affirmation. 'She! I was minding my business at the bar, you see, when I thought I heard her moaning. Upstairs. Well, now, I had to see what ailed her, after all, so up I went and don't you know, she bloody took me by the throat, the little cunt!' The voice was whiny now; pathetic. 'Christ, I've never in my life seen such strength! Began to scream that I was diddling her mother or something, or that I caused the divorce. Some such thing. It wasn't dear. But I tell you, love, she pushed me out the bloody fucking window!' Voice cracking. High-pitched now. 'She killed me! Fucking killed me! Now you think it's bloody fair to throw me out? Come along, now, Karras, answer me! You think it really fair? I mean, do you?'
Karras swallowed.
'Yes, or no,' it prodded 'Is it fair?'
'How was... the head turned around?' asked Karras hoarsely.
Dennings shifted his gaze around evasively. 'Oh, well, that was an accident... a freak... I hit the steps, you know.... It was freaky.'
Karras pondered, a dryness in his throat. Then he picked up Regan's wrist again; And glanced at his watch in a move of dismissal.
'Dimmy, Please! Don' make me be alone!'
His mother.
'If instead of be priest, you was doctor, I Live in nice house, Dimmy, not wit' da cockroach, not all by myself in da apartment! Then...'
He was straining to block it all out, but the voice began to weep again.
