Curses

  5. Thought Forms

  Rhea bought two bed covers — just in case — and did some grocery shopping, then drove to the local church located at the top of the hill at the end of the main street.

  The church itself was empty of people, so Rhea headed around to the private chambers at the rear.

  The priest opened the door. He looked very pale, and upon seeing Rhea, he half-closed the door again. ‘Please, this is not a good time.’

  This was the last thing Rhea expected a priest to say to anyone. ‘Did we do something to offend you?’ She didn’t understand; he seemed almost fearful of her.

  ‘No, nothing.’ Chuck hugged one hand to his stomach, covered his mouth with the other and ran off.

  ‘Father …’ Rhea wasn’t leaving before she got some answers. ‘Have you caught a bug? Can I get you anything?’

  Rhea could hear him in the bathroom, being violently ill. She felt terrible trying to suck the priest for information, when he was obviously feeling so poorly, but this bedclothes phenomenon was getting worse by the night. What would this evening hold in store? Rhea didn’t even want to think about it until she had some idea of what they were dealing with.

  The priest emerged from the bathroom wiping his face with a towel. ‘No, on all counts,’ he assured her. ‘But you must leave. I am expecting somebody.’

  ‘Please, Father …’ Rhea decided to throw herself on his mercy. Surely no priest could refuse that. ‘You said the other day that our house had a history. If you know anything about strange occurrences taking place there in the past, I need to know about it.’

  ‘You’ve experienced strange occurrences?’ He was immediately interested.

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ She emphasised her words by raising her brow. ‘And I believe you’ve experienced at least one instance yourself?’ She was guessing their dark shadow had given him a scare.

  Before Chuck could respond, he rushed off to the bathroom to be sick again.

  ‘Sweet Jesus have mercy,’ he mumbled as he went, having had as much as he could stand. ‘I’ll never do something that stupid again, if Max would only get here.’

  There was a knock at the door, which Rhea took the liberty of answering.

  ‘This is a pleasant surprise,’ said the round-faced, aging fellow, who sounded like he might have been English, although his speech was also tinged with an Australian accent. ‘I was expecting a sick priest,’ he explained.

  ‘You’re a doctor?’ Rhea backed up to let him in.

  ‘Of sorts,’ he replied on his way past. ‘The name’s Maxwell, but most Aussies call me Max.’ He shook her hand.

  ‘I’m Rhea Garrett.’ She returned the introduction. ‘We’ve recently bought —’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ He sounded intrigued, but as the priest sounded like he was dying, Max pointed to the bathroom to indicate he’d best go tend his patient. ‘What has been done to you, my lad?’

  ‘Mrs Garrett should leave,’ the priest insisted.

  ‘Why?’ Max reasoned. ‘I think she’ll need to hear the prognosis. Tell me what happened?’

  Rhea didn’t enter the bathroom, but stood out in the hall listening to the priest’s story, and what she heard was deeply alarming.

  ‘I tried to protect myself with prayer, but it seemed to have no effect on the ghost whatsoever.’ Chuck panted in exhaustion, pleased to have managed to tell his tale without being sick again.

  ‘That’s because I suspect you weren’t dealing with a ghost, but rather a thought form,’ Max deduced.

  ‘What’s a thought form?’ Rhea finally stepped into the doorway, unable to curb her curiosity any longer.

  ‘A thought form is associated with psychic phenomena.’ Max, who was seated on the side of the bath, began his explanation. ‘It is a pocket of energy endowed with a degree of intelligence by its originator and with some of the originator’s personal qualities as well. That is why the presence seemed female to you.’ Max looked at the young priest, who was now drinking a herbal brew which Max had mixed up and was clutching a large crystal to his stomach which Max had also pulled out of his bag of tricks.

  ‘So, because the thought form presented itself as female to Father Chuck, we know a woman created it,’ Rhea summed up.

  ‘Actually, we know via the local legend that a scorned woman is the source of the trouble in that house,’ Max explained. ‘Does she not know this?’ He looked to the priest for an explanation. ‘That’s the whole reason you went up there in the first place. And I had told you not to go.’

  ‘I know.’ Chuck was frustrated by the fact. ‘But the entity caused me such a scare, I just had to get out of there. But, please,’ the priest encouraged his friend, ‘feel free to do the honours now.’

  When Rhea had heard the tale, her first reaction was that of anger. ‘And the real estate agent didn’t see fit to mention that our house was cursed!’ She took a deep breath as she realised that their insurance probably wouldn’t cover damage resulting from thought forms. ‘This farmer’s name was Phillip, you said?’

  Both Max and the priest nodded.

  ‘And the girl who cast the curse. Her name was …?’

  This query made both men frown, but it was Max who had a stab at remembering. ‘N something. Nadine, Nicole … no.’

  ‘Natalie,’ Rhea suggested and Max clicked his fingers.

  ‘That’s it, Natalie … how did you know?’

  Rhea just shook her head, her mind too busy processing the information to be bothered with an explanation. ‘So how does one exorcise a thought form?’

  ‘Oh, you don’t want to exorcise a thought form. That would only make it stronger, like Chuck’s prayer did,’ Max advised. ‘You need a very experienced psychic to return the energy back to its rightful sphere of activity.’

  ‘Where the hell am I going to find a psychic?’ Rhea baulked at the idea, until Chuck referred her to Max.

  ‘Oh, no.’ Max declined. ‘I don’t do that sort of thing any more.’

  ‘You’re a psychic?’ Rhea was shocked by this news, and stared at Chuck. ‘You’re a priest and you go to a psychic for healing?’

  ‘Yes.’ Chuck didn’t see what was wrong with that. ‘I wasn’t always a priest, you realise. I grew up in these parts and I know that Max is the greatest authority on psychic phenomena around, as he used to belong to one of those secret orders that studied occult matters.’

  ‘You’re a witch?’ Rhea was even more surprised. ‘I mean, a warlock?’

  ‘No, no.’ Max objected to the misconception and Chuck had a chuckle at his old friend’s expense. ‘I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,’ he snapped at the young priest, before turning back to address Rhea’s query. ‘When I was a century younger,’ he exaggerated, ‘I belonged to the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. The Order has done much investigation into occult and magical practices, which I found all very interesting, but also dangerous, and potentially damaging in the hands of those out for personal gain. As I felt many people in the Order were studying occult doctrine for the wrong reasons, I withdrew from their company and moved out here to Australia.’

  Rhea was fascinated by the explanation, as Max seemed such an intelligent fellow and not at all the magician type. ‘So, if you can’t help me with this, Max, can you recommend someone who can?’

  Max thought seriously a moment and then shook his head. ‘You see, you’ve got a couple of real big problems that prevent you from getting rid of this particularly nasty thought form. My advice is sell the place and move elsewhere.’

  ‘We can’t, we’ve invested too much.’ Rhea panicked, knowing this news would break her husband’s heart, not to mention the large hole it would leave in their bank account. ‘What are the problems?’ Rhea urged Max to tell her, although he seemed doubtful that she really would want to know. ‘Please.’

  ‘Well, for a start, the originator of the thought form is no longer living and as time on the inner planes functions differently to here, it’s going to be a little difficult to
return the thought form to it’s rightful sphere of activity. Its source has transcended elsewhere.’

  ‘Oh.’ Rhea understood about half of what he’d said.

  ‘Secondly, since the way in which the curse was first banished from the house was crude and inappropriate —’

  ‘An exorcism,’ Chuck interjected for her information and Max grinned in gratitude. He had been trying to not offend the guest.

  ‘The thought form withdrew from the house as requested by the priest, only to spread out on to the property. You see, thought forms have no spirit, no inner knowing or connection to mass consciousness. Therefore, they do not understand human concepts of good and evil, of God or light. So it’s no good telling a thought form to return to God or hell, or to enter the light, if the originator did not believe in these things. Thought forms know only that which they were designed to do, that for which they were spawned. They cannot be reasoned with, as a ghost or a spirit can be. The priest did manage to make the thought form dormant, but it did not leave. You opened a doorway for the entity back to physical world expression when you extended your house.’

  ‘I wish someone had told us that before we renovated.’ Rhea was feeling really depressed now. ‘What was this thought form designed to do?’

  ‘Well, thought forms can be empowered by certain elements.’ Max considered her case. ‘Thanks to Chuck’s experience we know this thought form has a strong influence over liquids. It also had a sea water smell, you said?’ Max looked to the priest and he nodded. ‘Natalie drowned at sea so that smell seems to support our suspicions that she was the instigator of the thought form. It also suggests that she actually cast this particular thought form as she was dying, rather than it belonging to the curse that was cast on the house before Natalie left here for America.’

  ‘According to the tale, nothing weird did happen until after she drowned,’ Chuck informed them.

  ‘Tell us of your experiences, Rhea,’ Max invited. ‘They might give us a few more clues as to the nature of the beast, wherein we might find a weakness.’

  Rhea was more than happy to spill her guts on the whole affair and when she cited every instance of strange phenomena that she was aware of, it sounded rather a lot. She left out the fact that Phillip and she were having sex when the door slammed in the kitchen; she merely said they were having a smooch.

  ‘Sounds like this female thought form might have a bit of a crush on your husband,’ Max suggested, and the priest nodded and agreed that most of the behaviour sounded as if it was jealousy-motivated.

  Rhea gasped, covering her mouth with both hands and shaking her head, not wanting to accept this new explanation.

  ‘Or perhaps it thinks Phillip Garrett is Phillip McLevy,’ the priest suggested. ‘If the exorcism put it to sleep, wouldn’t the present just feel like the next day to the entity?’

  ‘Quite possibly.’ Chuck’s reasoning impressed Max, but he wanted to get back to the subject of elements. ‘The entity has a strong earth presence if it can move objects — like the bedclothes — and that would explain how it opens and closes doors with no accompanying wind.’

  ‘Because there was no wind felt when doors opened and closed, there can be no air element connected to the curse,’ Chuck explained for Rhea’s benefit.

  ‘Well, that makes perfect sense,’ Rhea reasoned. ‘If Natalie drowned at sea, then the one element she would have been short on would have been air.’

  ‘And fire,’ Chuck added.

  Rhea nodded. ‘So does this information help us in our endeavour to be rid of this entity?’

  Max thought hard about it and then cocked an eye at them. ‘I’d have to do some research,’ he stated, obviously not wanting to commit to the quest in a hurry.

  ‘Would you? Please,’ Rhea begged, using her large blue eyes to best advantage. ‘I’d be more than happy to pay you for your efforts.’

  ‘Of course.’ Max relented and forced a smile. ‘But for the time being, I advise you to be nice to the entity if it makes its presence felt. Don’t do anything to rile it.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Rhea said, emphatically, ‘I won’t.’

  6. A Current Affair

  When Rhea returned home, she was surprised to find the front door locked and that her key would not unlock it.

  ‘Goddamn it!’ she grumbled, giving the door a kick before she headed off around the house to the back door. ‘Why the hell is it locked anyway?’ The workmen had all gone for the day, but Phillip’s car was still in the carport. ‘Phillip!’ she called as loud as she was able. ‘Phillip!’ Rhea gave up, figuring he must be working on his construction.

  On reaching the back door she was completely stunned to find that it would not open either. ‘This is ridiculous!’ she decided. They never locked this door.

  She resigned herself to walking across the hot, dusty distance between the house and the construction site to find Phillip and see if he could explain why he’d locked everything — perhaps he’d thought it best because he was not close at hand to keep an eye on the house. Surely he hasn’t changed the locks?

  ‘That’s a bit paranoid,’ Rhea concluded. ‘Who the hell would be bothered travelling out here to commit a burglary?’

  Phillip was not working on his solar project, nor was he in the huge shed. ‘Oh, damn.’ She grabbed herself a drink of water, before traipsing back to the house. ‘He’s got to be inside.’

  She banged on the door, calling his name for several minutes, then, fed up with waiting, she went around peeking inside the windows to see if she could locate him.

  Rhea was about to give up when, through the bathroom window, she spied Phillip’s feet; he was laid out on the laundry floor. ‘Phillip!’ She banged on the window. When she could raise no response from him, her fear for his wellbeing urged her to grab the closest hunk of timber and smash the bathroom window. She quickly cleaned away the excess glass and managed to hoist herself inside, only sustaining a couple of minor cuts in the process.

  ‘Oh, Jesus,’ she uttered upon finding he was unconscious. ‘Phillip?’ She slapped him around the face a bit, whereupon he stirred.

  ‘What?’ he grumbled, annoyed to wake up with a thumping headache. ‘What happened?’ he asked, realising where he was.

  ‘I was just about to ask you the same question?’ Rhea appealed. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yeah, I think so.’ He raised himself, with some help from Rhea, holding on to his aching head. But when Rhea touched the back of his neck he winced. ‘Ouch.’

  ‘You’ve got a bad bump back here.’ Rhea took a look at the area that was giving him grief. ‘Did you knock your head on something?’

  ‘No …’ He sounded uncertain about that and endeavoured to explain. ‘I was throwing my dirty clothes in the wash, when I thought I heard dripping water. I started looking about for a leak when I thought …’ He paused, smiled and shook his head.

  ‘You thought what?’ Rhea encouraged him to voice his observation.

  ‘I thought I smelt sea water,’ he shrugged, ‘and then my lights went out.’

  Remembering that the priest had noted the same smell, Rhea’s jaw dropped.

  ‘Is something the matter?’ Phillip queried, noticing his wife’s stunned expression.

  Rhea was not given the chance to respond. Her eyes had drifted back to the glass debris on the bathroom floor which had begun to vibrate on the tiles. ‘Watch out!’ She grabbed Phillip’s hand and made a break for the door. Splinters of glass shot forth and shattered against the laundry appliances, barely missing Phillip as he was dragged out the door, which Rhea slammed closed behind them.

  The couple leant against the door, catching their breath after the close call, then Phillip turned to Rhea to inquire, ‘You saw the priest today?’

  Rhea only nodded, her expression grave.

  ‘We’re haunted?’ He would have felt silly suggesting this, had he not been knocked unconscious by some unknown force and had he not seen glass take flight of its own a
ccord.

  ‘No,’ she stated, cringing. ‘What we’ve got is much, much worse.’

  No longer feeling comfortable in the house, Rhea led Phillip back out to his shed to convey what she had learnt — needless to say, Phillip was infuriated by the news.

  ‘Those fucking bastards!’ He looked around at his yet-to-be-realised project and kicked one of the huge tyres on the semi-trailer. ‘No wonder they were prepared to sell this place so cheap! What the hell are we going to do now?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rhea kept a civil tone, ‘but hopefully the Father’s friend, Max, will come up with a solution.’

  ‘And what if he doesn’t?’ Phillip shot back at her, realising his anger was misdirected, but unable to help himself. He was furious!

  ‘Hon —’ Rhea was about to try and reason with him, when the sound of a car arriving drew their attention. They headed outside to see the car screech to a halt, and the priest and Max climb out of the vehicle.

  Rhea ran to greet them. ‘Am I ever glad to see you guys. Please tell me you have a solution.’

  ‘We may well do.’ Max smiled reassuringly. ‘But we’ll have a bit of a hunt ahead of us first.’

  ‘A hunt?’ Rhea frowned.

  ‘We need to brainstorm,’ Max advised. ‘Any chance of a cuppa?’

  ‘Sure,’ Rhea directed them toward the shed. ‘The house is a little angry this evening.’ She explained her choice of venue.

  ‘I thought you said you wouldn’t do anything to upset the entity,’ Chuck teased.

  ‘My husband beat me to it.’ Rhea motioned to Phillip and introduced the men on the way to the shed.

  When Max heard about the latest occurrence, he was very pleased. ‘Well, perhaps our search won’t be as difficult as expected.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Rhea sipped on her coffee, struggling to keep a steady hand. Just speaking about this afternoon’s misadventure had her nerves on edge.

  ‘Well, I discovered that this thought form could not have attached its “self” to this house, unless there was something left here by the instigator to draw it hither.’