Back when I was around twenty and still living in my hometown, I met and briefly knew a young woman of about the same age named Ann. Physically, Ann was rather short and squat, what one would call, using a hackneyed expression, “not very attractive, but with a nice personality.” In retrospect, my guess is that Ann turned out to be gay. People said that her older brother Tim was, too. I guess it can run in some families.
Like many young people, and especially in that strange town, Ann had been interested in the occult for some time. She tended to hang around similar young people, using Ouija boards, reading about pagan practices, and becoming involved in who-knows-what.
Ann soon discovered that there was a new, young English-professor on campus who, supposedly, also was involved in the occult, claiming to be a witch. He also had a surname of “Oakwood,” which is singularly appropriate for someone claiming to practice the “old religion.” I saw him on campus. I must say that he certainly sounded and looked the part, tall and thin, very dark hair and eyes, always dressed in black, and tending to speak and behave in a mysterious manner. Ann actually went to the effort to sit in on his class, just to be there and to observe him. Eventually, she had the nerve to ask him, “Are you a white witch or black witch?” Apparently, Ann had watched “The Wizard of Oz” far more than having read reputable textbooks on pagan history and anthropology. The ancient pagans did not practice “dark magic” and actually believed that, if one did something evil, that evil would come back upon the person threefold. Naturally, the mysterious professor responded, “White witch.”
I met Ann at the same time that I briefly knew Ned. One evening when the three of us were together, Ann suggested that we go back to her house and hang out in their little basement-den where she had a small TV. So, we ended up at her house. The three of us, along with her cocker spaniel, went down to the den to watch TV and chat.
Suddenly at one point, I felt terror, as though a lump of ice had been thrust into my gut. I instantly noticed that both Ann and Ned were responding the same way, - - and so was the dog! That poor dog's eyes were wild, and it howled and howled. This continued for at least a dozen seconds, which is a long time to feel terror. Then, the feeling and the dog's howling abruptly stopped. We just looked at each other. Finally, Ned said, “What was that?!”
The following day, Ann attended Oakwood's class as usual. As she was leaving at the end of class, Oakwood casually mentioned to Ann, “I visited you last night.” That really spooked Ann.
I eventually learned that Ann had gotten herself so deeply involved with the occult that she increasingly felt fear and anxiety, so much so that she finally concluded that she had to get away from it all. She approached the young, assistant priest at our town's Episcopal church, begging him to perform an exorcism. Noting how distressed that Ann was, the priest actually did perform the ritual; and Ann never returned to her old practices.
An ironic postscript to all of this is that Ned got to know that young, handsome priest, and had sex with him. I guess that there is more than one way to reduce stress.
© 5 November 2014
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