The Exorcism

Eddie stumbled into the kitchen. His eyes squinted as he grimaced, reaching for the light switch. He banged around muttering curse words under his breath. He was angry and frustrated.

“Where is the goddamn salt?” he said as he gathered Ziplock bags of dried herbs under his arm. He snatched several bottles of essential oil off the apothecary and grabbed a white porcelain plate off the shelf.

“We got to lock this place down,” he said to himself as he glanced at his ancestor altar from across the apartment.

Standing in front of his countertop he placed a white plate on his cutting board with his King James Bible on top of it. He prepared his space by lining up all his ingredients.

Dead Sea salt, dried hyssop and basil. Camphor, rosemary, and sage essential oil. And a ten-ounce mason jar to bottle up his magickal salt.

He lit a tea light and placed it beside the plate, picked up his Bible, and opened it to Psalm 91. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then recited parts of the scripture to bless the salt:

“He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.

Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation;

There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.

For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.

Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name.

He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him.

With long life will I satisfy him, and shew him my salvation.”

Eddie continued, “El, Elohim, El Elyon, El Shaddai, Yahweh, Yah Oh. In the name of Jehovah of armies, you shall not come near. Amen, amen, and amen.”

Eddie measured two heaping tablespoons of the dried herbs into the mason jar. Then he filled the rest of the way with salt. Then, he added essential oil, sprinkling drops of camphor, rosemary, and sage over the salt and herbs.

The aroma of the plants filled the apartment. The tea light’s flame was full and robust. He used the spoon to stir and mix the ingredients together.

Eddie froze and darted his gaze to the ancestor altar again and saw Seraph’s band and his Idé de Orula beside a bottle of Florida Water. “Fuck my life!” Eddie yelled on the verge of an Autistic meltdown.

After securing his bracelets again he returned to the counter to finish charming the salt.

Eddie whispered, “Iba Osanyin, Iba oni ewe. Ko si ku. Ko si arun. Ko si akoba. A dupe Alagbo. Àṣẹ. Praise to the owner of herbal medicine. Praise to the owner of leaves. Free us from death. Free us from sickness. Free us from negativity. I thank the owner of herbal medicine. May it be so.”

Suddenly Eddie heard a boom that vibrated through the entire apartment. He jumped from the noise. Thunder rolled through Northampton and the Orisha Shango made his presence known. He reached under the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of rum and a shot glass. He poured the shot and placed it on the windowsill.

Standing over the plate he poured out the mixture and with his eyes closed flattened it out with his palm. Then he took his middle finger and drew a cross in the salt. Raising his hands and turning his palms to the heavens he prayed:

“I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth,

And in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord,

Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary,

Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried.

The third day, he rose from the dead; He ascended into heaven,

And sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty,

From thence, he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Church Universal, the Communion of Saints,

The forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen.”

Then Eddie broke out into the doxology singing:

“Praise God from whom all blessings flow! Praise him, all creatures here below! Praise him above, ye heavenly host! Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!”

The apartment fell silent. The aroma of rum, dried herbs, and essential oils saturated the atmosphere. Eddie took a deep sigh of relief. A rumble of thunder rolled overhead as the sound of heavy rain crashed down on Eddie’s building.

He sprinkled the salt in a line across his doorway and all the windowsills. Then he dissolved the rest in a white bowl with two cans of coconut milk and Florida Water and took a quick spiritual bath, cleansing with Black African soap imported from Nigeria infused with more essential oils.

Eddie was tired, strung out, and pissed off. “I’m going back to bed,” he muttered as he climbed back in bed, disoriented and vexed by the night’s fuckery. He slept. Morning came.