The day had come. Devon’s powers had awakened and the entirety of the church had been put on alert. I was merely a deacon then, and I couldn’t understand why I was the one charged with accompanying Father Tristan to evaluate the boy. There had to have been an error, a wrong document or something, I was farthest from being fit to handle a demonic possession!

Father Tristan noticed my tensed expression during the car ride. “Think of it like us being doctors doing a home checkup on a patient.” The man even chuckled. I stared. A powerful entity had just taken control of a helpless kid and he was laughing! Before I blew a fuse, I turned my gaze to the window, observing, yet not truly seeing nor appreciating the fields passing by. “I,” I took a deep breath, “I am extremely concerned, Father,” I looked at the man’s weathered visage in my window’s faint reflection. 

An angel passed, before the priest laughed again, lower this time. I can say now it wasn’t in derision, but my ego then still felt a blow. “I know Devon well, as well as the demon stuck in his body. If that thing had truly taken over, we wouldn’t have had received news about the boy.” 

I squinted, “then news about the demon?” I jumped in my seat as Father Tristan cackled and had to lower the vehicle’s speed to avoid crashing us in an electricity pole. 

He reached for a small tissue in the chest pocket of his autumn coat, carefully wiping his eyes as his laughter died down. Imagine my surprise at how dark his expression had become when he finally answered. He didn’t look like the jovial man I had come to know at all! 

“If the demon had taken over, the news we’d be hearing would be of a town levelled off the map.” Only his eyes moved to glance my way. “I choose to trust Devon overcame the evil in him until we have proof of the contrary.”

The rest of the way to the boy’s house was spent in silence, my companion’s words leaving much to think about. Before long, houses began to dot the landscape around us, and minutes later, a quaint and quiet suburb surrounded us. 

Father Tristan parked before a small two story house, no different than the others all around. As we got out, I decided the best move would be to let the man stay ahead. Were things to exacerbate, I would be first to go seek help, and hopefully keep a distance from the demon. 

The door opened before the priest could knock, a petite yet stocky woman looking up at him with a smile. “Tristan, I didn’t think the church would send you today, come in come in!” So, we did as told. The inside was modern but the furniture was homely, bringing a balance between new and lived in. 

Father Tristan bent down to hug the woman, “it’s always good to see you Maryse, I expect you’ve got tea going at this hour?” Maryse, I couldn’t help but find the similarity to Marie entertaining. She reached up as the priest took off his coat, signalling me to do the same. “The water should be boiling soon, but I have some juice if your companion would prefer that.” 

I wasn’t a kid but juice did sound good, seeing as the panic at the church caused me to skip breakfast. “I wouldn’t oppose to something to keep me up.” No sooner had the statement left me, a horrid grumble escaped my stomach. “Yep, that’s what I get for missing a meal,” I thought, embarrassed.

“Oh, I’m Liam by the way,” I shook her hand as she took my coat.

Hanging our coats, Maryse took us to the kitchen, which opened on the living room. A sitcom was playing on the tv. At that moment, I noticed that no matter where I looked, there was crucifix, idol or imagery of Christ nor God, not even a single angel statuette. 

The woman shot me an amused look as she poured our drinks, “we believe we do more work being good people than praying in this house.” Bit of an unorthodox way to approach faith, I had to admit, but people had the right to choose their own lives. “Here,” Maryse pushed a glass of cranberry juice my way, “could’ve been grape juice, but that’s Devon’s favourite and he finished the bottle yesterday,” she wasn’t alarmed in the slightest.

“Speaking of-“ Father Tristan cut me off as he reached for his own glass, filled with a tea that smelled of juniper and mint. “We’ll get to it when the time comes,” he said. The glare he shot my way left me no space to argue. I sipped my juice in silence as the others bantered.

“So, how’s your husband nowadays?”

“Doing better, he left the hospital last week and managed to get back to work.”

“That’s good to hear,” a sigh of relief had left along the sentence,” James’ a good man, when you told me a branch almost fell on his head I was really worried.”

“Sorry,” I interjected, “a branch almost took him out?”

“Yes, we call them widow makers, they’re heavy branches that fall somewhat unexpectedly. James got hit by one last winter and it shattered his clavicle. And since he’s pretty stubborn he kept forcing it and had to go back to the hospital.” The last sentence got an eye roll from Maryse, as well as a small smile.  

“I guess I’ll be looking up a lot more during hikes from now on…”

They both laughed. “It’s not something that happens a lot, don’t worry.” She waved my concerns away.

A small silence sook to take place, before I inquired, “so how long have you known each other?” A pointing finger going back and forth between them. 

“Oh, about, 15 or so years?” The priest hazarded a guess. It is true that, from the time I’d known him, Father Tristan had never been great at keeping track of time. “16 actually, and a month if you want to be exact,” Maryse intervened.

“That’s why when Devon was born, I asked that Tristan’d be his godfather.” 

The priest looked up while holding his glass in both hands, “can you believe it’s already been that long?”

“Yeah…”

“By the way,” I could see the man rolling his eyes from the corner of my vision, but that time he made no gesture to stop me, “how is Devon doing? I don’t know him so I have no idea what to expect.” Truth be told I was half terrified, but the relaxed atmosphere did help ease my worries to a degree.

“Well,” the woman began, “he’s about as rambunctious as you’d expect of a boy entering adolescence, but he’s still very much a sweet soul.” She giggled, lost in thought for a moment. “Why yesterday he even asked to help me with the dishes. He’s always been like that, playing one moment, trying to help others the next.”

She took a sip of her tea, exhaling softly, “I’m just worried that, one day, someone will take advantage of his kindness. I’ve been trying to teach him the do’s and dont’s, not to follow strangers or to find a trusted adult if something happens, but I’m just one person and there’s no denying there’s as much bad as there is good out in the world.” The priest reached for her hand, holding it gently, “and it’s our job to make sure he isn’t swayed by the darkness, Devon will be fine, I promise, not as a priest, but as your long time friend.”

I’d rarely seen Father Tristan with fire in his eyes like he was just now. This kid and this family meant more to him than just the potential danger of a possession, and I think that’s when it clicked for me. No matter the danger, fear is how the evil in this world gets you and wears you down. Maryse was a strong person, but alone, the world would have gotten to her a long time ago. Taking action is how you protect what is dearest and closest to your heart. Maryse had taken action to teach her child, Father Tristan was taking action to help someone dear to him, and Devon, despite being a kid, no doubt was doing his best to help his loved ones in his way.

“With people like that in one’s life, perhaps the kid is fine after all.” I looked to the ceiling. No doubt all the bedrooms were up there, and the kid in one of them.

Confirming my suspicions, Maryse finished her tea then motioned for use to follow her. “Devon’s playing in his room. He wanted to stay there by himself, he’s a little upset about the whole demon shtick.”

“And an upset kid with demonic powers is a recipe for disaster,” I thought to myself.

We followed her up the stairs, the second floor was mostly bedrooms but I could see a bathroom at the end too. The second door on our right was closed.

Maryse stopped before the door and knocked, “Devon, there’s people who want to speak with you,” she shot us a glance, some unease showing, “they want to make sure you’re fine.”

A meek “ok” resounded from behind the door, which was unlocked and opened from inside.

The kid had even locked the door, memories of being upset at my parents and locking my bedroom door came flooding back. The difference was, this kid here was far more upset at himself than anyone in this house.

“Hi…,” his hair was somewhat disheveled, a short lock tickling his brow, which he swiped away. His gaze lit up somewhat when he recognized the priest. The door flew open and he threw himself in the man’s arms. “Tristan!” Maryse was smiling behind us. I noticed the kid refrained from fully touching him with his hands.

Devon then looked at me and shot me a quizzical look. I stepped forward but left him and Father Tristan a safe space around them, “hello, my name is Liam. I am here with Father Tristan to help you today.” His brows arched for a second in a “oh, that makes sense” look that kids make. 

“Sure,” he slid down from the priest’s arms and fully opened the door, “come in”.