Chapter Journal
John Miller’s POV
Granby, Massachusetts
Friday, November 25, 2022
I must have been hearing things. “Wait a minute. Your grandfather was a demon hunter?”
“That’s right. Ezra Miller protected the people in this area from those foul creatures for over two decades.”
I shook my head. “Demons don’t exist, Pops.”
“They do exist, and you were in the presence of one. Do you know who else believes demons exist?”
“I don’t know, maybe kids watching scary movies?”
“The Vatican believes in them, and for good reason. They don’t advertise their services and rarely preach about it from the pulpit, but the fallen angels don’t just go away. Possessions happen, and specially-trained priests who still perform exorcisms.” He took a sip of coffee and continued. “The world isn’t better when you let Satan’s minions run about unopposed. The greatest lie told now is that he doesn’t exist. If they think demons aren’t real, no one will do what is needed to stop them.”
I took a sip of my coffee and looked at the mountains, thinking about how to phrase this. “Pops, I’ve spent twenty years on the job. I’ve seen evil people do unspeakable things. I’ve seen the result of sick motherfuckers abusing the innocent. Not once in my time did I see any Exorcist shit.”
“Do you know how many mentions of demons there are in the New Testament?”
“No idea.”
“Fifty-two. Casting out demons was a full third of Jesus’ ministry. And it wasn’t just him. When he sent the seventy out to spread the word, they were astonished that even the demons were subject to them.”
I shook my head. “Pops, that was two thousand years ago.”
“It’s not like fallen angels have anywhere else to go,” he replied. “Grandpa Ezra used to tell me that the number of demons hasn’t changed, but the number of humans has exploded. Forcible possession is messy and attracts the wrong kind of attention. People welcome the demons inside them to get power, sex, or money. There are demon-possessed people all around us.”
“It doesn’t make sense, Pops.”
“Neither does touching a person and knowing they are evil, boy. You have the gift; your spirit is sensitive to the demons. You can identify them inside the vessels they inhabit.”
I didn’t want to accept that, but Pops was right about that feeling. “How did it work? Did he have some spirit-filled sword? Did he toss holy water or hold a crucifix on their foreheads? Was he a priest?”
“He was a man like you, John, with a gift he didn’t ask for and didn’t want. His father and great-grandfather had the gift, and he learned to hunt from them. In the end, you do what you are born to do.”
It was a lot to take in. “I want to believe you, Pops, but it’s a mental leap for me.”
“It’s a spiritual leap, my boy. I don’t expect you to believe me. Hell, I don’t believe half the stories he told.” He finished his coffee and stood up. “My Grandfather always hoped it wouldn’t skip more than one generation, but he died without being able to train his successor. He left me a journal and asked me to pass it on to the next person who showed signs of being like him. I’ll get it for you.”
A minute later, Mary came outside in her coat. “I woke up to find you gone,” she complained. “I miss my heater.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” She sat on my leg and leaned into my shoulder as I wrapped her in my arms. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Stay with me today?”
“Absolutely. It’s too dangerous for me to leave you alone with the women in this house.”
Pops came back out with a brown-paper-wrapped parcel under his arm. I took it; it was heavier and larger than I expected. “Don’t open this until you are back in New York and have time to read it. Don’t ignore your other responsibilities, son. Spend this time with your family and your girlfriend.”
“I can’t even look at what it is?”
“Once you start down this rabbit hole, you’re done. You’ll have questions, and it will take some time before you get past your knowledge of the world as you know it to see it as he did. Write your questions down. Do some research on your own. Read the journal twice before you call me for any answers, and I’ll do what I can.”
“You’ve read it?” He nodded. “All right, Pops.”
“Go put it in your car, boy. I need to talk to Mary without you around.”
Yeah, Pops was too old to beat around the bush. I looked at Mary, and she waved me off.
Mary stood to let me go, whispering about how the ‘best-laid plans don’t survive the first shot.’ When I walked inside, Mom called me into the kitchen. She and three other women were making food for the breakfast buffet. “You screw things up with that girl, and it’s your ass,” she told me as she shook a spatula in my face.
“Mom, we’ve only been dating a few…”
She cut me off with a lightning-fast smack on my arm with the egg flipper. Reflexes don’t help you against Mom smacks; blocking one gets you four more. When your Mom has four boys and a girl before she has you, she’s long perfected the art of getting boys to behave. I learned when to stand still and shut up because if you didn’t behave for Mom, you’d get Dad’s belt when he got in from the fields. “She will make a good wife for you, and she’s like a daughter to me now. Treat her with respect, my boy. If you make her cry, you WILL regret it. I'll take her in and boot your skinny butt to the curb.” She tossed the spatula into the sink and grabbed another as she stirred the scrambled eggs.
“But, Mom, it’s still early on, and I’m your son!”
She pulled at her hair. “You see this grey? It’s from you and your brothers. I have a surplus of sons who don’t help out around here, so I don’t mind a trade if you cut her loose. I want more daughters like her, and I’d love another granddaughter.”
“I love her, Mom. It’s complicated, though.”
She put her hand on my shoulder. “Love is rarely a simple thing, my boy, especially with as much history as you both have. Don’t punish her for the mistakes and failures in your past. Stay by her side and show her what it is like to be part of this crazy family.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Wake up everyone downstairs and tell them breakfast starts in fifteen minutes.” She turned her attention back to the skillet while I headed for the basement.
When I finally rescued Mary from my Pops, the line for breakfast formed. We moved through the line, loading our plates with a typical farmer’s breakfast. Pops sat at his usual place at the head of the table, but we kept walking. There was never enough room in the dining room for everyone to sit at the same table, and I wasn’t ‘senior’ enough yet. I got the kid’s table or any place I could find. “I figure we need two divorces and five funerals before we get a spot at the big table,” I grumbled. “Let’s eat outside and enjoy the cool morning.”
We had a good time with the other ‘juniors’ and grandchildren out back over breakfast, mainly because of Mary. “You’re like a new man this year because of her,” my baby sister told me as we went to get more coffee. “We’ve been so worried about you since, well, you know.”
“Next time we come up, we’ll bring Heather along. I thought it was too much for the first time everyone would be meeting Mary. I didn't want to scare her away.”
“Marry her quick, John. Don’t let her figure out she’s got better options.” I choked on my coffee and started coughing. She walked away with a smile, happy to get the last word with her big brother.
Mary seamlessly fit into the family antics as we enjoyed the day. She was a ‘ringer’ at the horseshoe tournament, played wide receiver in the football game, and slid right in with the other women in the kitchen. I took her horseback riding in the afternoon, a first for her. We were exhausted by the time the after-dinner poker tournament ended. I’d gone bankrupt after an hour, while Mary walked away with almost a hundred dollars in change.
There wasn’t a dry eye as we said our goodbyes on Saturday afternoon. “You are amazing,” I told her as we drove away from the farm. “Everyone loved you.”
“I had fun,” she replied. “When are we coming back?”
“There are too many conflicts for everyone on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but Mom likes us to show up for Boxing Day,” I told her. “I’ve been threatened with bodily harm if I don’t bring you and Heather this year.”
“Once she finds out your parents have horses, Heather won’t be able to stay away.”
I had to agree with that. Heather was going to be jealous of the pictures I took. “What does your family do?”
“We go to my parent’s church for Christmas Eve service, then sleep at their house and do the whole Christmas Morning thing. Mom likes to have a big meal that day.”
“That sounds fun.”
It would be. I’d make sure Mary was wearing a ring this time.