A Room Full of Demons

A Room Full of Demons by Mark Carpan

Rebecca Griffen sat quietly at the small kitchen table in her Chicago apartment. She had poured herself a cup of hot tea to help calm her nerves. Her wrinkled hands shook as she brought the steaming cup to her lips. Looking down, she examined the numerous age spots that peppered her hands. The large blue veins that rose up from her skin and the exaggerated, protruding knuckles reminded her of why this day had come. She pulled her sleeves down over her wrists. There was a bit of a chill in the air this morning. In the background was the constant, soothing ticking of her mantle clock.

She scanned her apartment. The ceramic figurines that lined the shelves stared back at her. They sat neatly aligned on tidy wooden shelves like tiny soldiers on guard. Hardly a patch of bare wall remained. If there wasn’t a knickknack, there was a rack of spoons or books she had collected over the years, and her many family pictures filled the remaining spaces. Every square inch of shelving space was covered with something—trinkets, dainty bells, stacks of magazines, her deceased husband’s old war medals, spools of yarn, and unfinished knitting. Her entire life could be summed up by the contents of her one-bedroom suite, all covered in a thin layer of dust. How could she feel so lonely when she was surrounded by reminders of better times?

She wasn’t sure if she would see many of these possessions again. Her daughter would pack only some of it to send out West. Rebecca would have packed much of it herself if Angela hadn’t been in such a big hurry to ship her off. Knowing her daughter, she suspected she would delegate the bulk of the task to movers or some other strangers. Angela was businesslike and orderly about family affairs – especially when it concerned her mother – always parading about with her little black notebook.

Angela was her youngest daughter. Although she was forty-two, she was still Rebecca’s baby, but Rebecca found pleasant dialogue with her impossible these days. All Rebecca had were memories of a better time: a time when there were happy family gatherings, a time when she had a family who supported her in her golden years, a time when her daughter didn’t have so much say in her personal affairs, a time when Rebecca had a little more control of her own destiny. It didn’t seem that long ago.

But then everything changed. Angela gradually convinced her five siblings that Mother needed “special” care now. Being the most dominant among all the siblings, Angela convinced the others to let her make all the arrangements to put Mother in a retirement home. This also opened the door for Angela to seize control of her sizable estate. With the help of medical professionals, she was able to prove that Mother might be suffering from the early stages of Alzheimer’s. As a legal secretary, Angela knew how to handle the delicate issue of her mother’s affairs; she didn’t even need a lawyer to help her.

And why outside of Chicago? It was as if Angela had to send her far away to ease her own guilt about what she was doing. Sure, this retirement home was nationally renowned. Angela had shown her all the information and pictures in hopes of winning Rebecca over to the idea, but when Rebecca refused to cooperate, Angela fabricated the story about her mother’s “illness” to gain control of the situation.

Rebecca couldn’t understand what had possessed her daughter to do it. Rebecca had never been a burden to her family. She had helped her own children through school, with their own families, with their dreams. Why couldn’t they help her now? She felt alone, betrayed. She even tried giving extra money to Angela in hopes it might convince her to back down – at one point giving Angela $20,000. But the move backfired, and Angela blew through the money quickly on extravagant travel. It was as if the money opened a floodgate of greed and Angela immediately began asking for more. Everything seemed to boil down to one thing, Rebecca’s sizable estate, and Angela’s interest in controlling it – all of it, not just $20,000.

Rebecca was startled by a loud knock on the door. It was time. Rebecca pushed herself up from her chair and grabbed her cane, which hung on the corner of the table. But before she could get to the door, Angela unlocked it and let herself in.

“Hello, Mother,” she said as she walked into the apartment.

“Since when do we allow ourselves into other people’s homes? I was going to unlock it for you,” Rebecca said.

“Didn’t want to take any chances, Mother. I took one of your keys the last time I was here. Besides, it’s not like it’ll be your apartment for much longer.”

“Take chances? Angela, what were you expecting to find when you got here?”

Rebecca froze as she saw three strange men come into the apartment behind her daughter. She started to cry. Angela stood there and shot a quick, compassionate look at the men who accompanied her. One of the men set down his leather bag and wrote something on a clipboard. The other two were more ominous looking. At that moment, Rebecca felt as though an enormous weight were pressing down on her. She felt so overwhelmed afnd helpless. Any control she might left vanished as soon as they walked in.

“Angela, why are you doing this?” she said after a few moments, trying desperately to fight back tears.

“It’s okay, Mother. This is all for the best.” She pulled the little black notebook from her purse and began jotting some notes.

“Best for whom, Angela? You don’t have to do this.”

Rebecca tried to compose herself, straightening her sweater. She wiped away her tears and fixed her shiny white hair with her fingers. Maybe she could win some support here. Maybe that would help. Her hands trembled. All the anxiety was putting pressure on her bladder. Shouldn’t have had all that tea. She felt a bit of discomfort and suddenly needed to use the bathroom. But she didn’t dare leave now, so she looked up and put on a brave smile.

“Angela, dear, Mommy can take care of herself. Surely we can talk about this—alone. You and me…and the family?”

“Mother, Dr. Wright here and I have been evaluating your situation for several years. We feel it would be best for your own safety if you received professional care. What if you fell? This apartment has far too many stairs for a woman your age.”

“I am perfectly fine with the stairs, dear.” Rebecca said, tapping her foot with the cane.

“Dr. Wright personally recommended this home. We’ve really pulled some strings for you on this one. There’s a very long waiting list. Dr. Wright felt you were a good candidate and discussed your case personally with the doctor at the retirement home there.”

“Chicago’s good enough, Angela. My apartment is fine.”

“Mother, you know this isn’t up for negotiation. Your lease is up on Friday. The movers will be here tomorrow to pack your things. I’ll be here to make sure you get what you need.”

Angela looked around the room. She paced slowly around the apartment, looking at Rebecca’s treasures with disdain. Angela stopped at a glass case full of old coins and ran her fingers across it, creating a line in the dust. “Why, oh why, do you keep so much stuff, Mother?”

“Have you made your list already in your bloody black book, Angela? Decided what you’re going to keep before you divvy up my possessions with the others?”

“Mother, don’t raise your voice at me. You’re not helping yourself. The doctor is here to make you feel comfortable. He knows you haven’t been yourself.”

“You can’t make me leave against my will, Angela.”

“And you’ve been less than cooperative on all my past requests. Because of your refusal to involve yourself, I’ve had to relay all the information on your case to the doctor and other professionals. I’ve talked to the lawyers, as well, about your sizable finances. Everyone agrees—the family included—that I should handle things from here on out. I’m sorry, Mother, but I’m in charge now.”

Rebecca lost all restraint. She swung at her daughter with her cane, which hit Angela in the back and knocked her to the floor. The two men charged at Rebecca. She swung her cane with both hands from side to side, trying to keep them away from her. They motioned for her to calm down. The doctor had already opened his leather bag and was filling a needle with something. Angela stumbled backwards and pulled herself up by the corner of the kitchen table, knocking the cup of tea to the floor.

Rebecca continued to swing her cane wildly from side to side, creating a wide buffer between herself and her would-be captors. She then caught her foot on the living room chair and slipped, providing one of the men the opportunity to catch the cane and snatch it from her. She clambered to regain control of the situation, but the other man had grabbed her from behind. He lifted her off the ground, and she kicked at the air wildly. The doctor approached her, carrying the syringe and darting about to avoid being kicked. The big man who was holding her tried to maneuver her a bit to the left to allow the doctor to inject her on her right side, but as soon as he tried, she managed to swing her leg over and catch him in the face with her foot. He fell to the floor.

The man who had taken her cane grabbed her legs, and the two men commenced to move her out of the apartment and down the stairs to the van waiting on the street below. All the commotion had attracted a crowd.

It was hard moving Rebecca down the narrow stairwell. Seriously distressed now, Rebecca lost control of her bladder. Urine leaked on the stairs and caused one of the men to slip. Stumbling, he lost his grip on Rebecca. Although she was weak from the ordeal, she mustered enough energy to free one hand and grab the handrail. Then, halfway down the stairwell, they stopped, unable to move.

Angela stood at the top of the stairs. The doctor stumbled out of the apartment and pushed her aside, trying to make his way down the stairs to give Rebecca the sedative. Seized by a sense of professional obligation, he stopped and looked back at Angela.

“Are you alright, Angela?” he asked. Angela shook her head. She covered her face with both hands and began shaking.

“Your mother is delirious. She’ll be okay once we sedate her.” The doctor turned and ran down the stairs. “Hold her still.” He gave the injection in her arm. He fell back and sat on the stairs waiting for the drug to take effect.

“No. No! Please.” Rebecca cried out, her voice dispirited. She pulled away and gripped the rail with her other hand. The two men could not pull her away from the banister. The crowd was growing visibly disgusted with the spectacle. Soon the sedative overpowered Rebecca, and she released her grip on the handrail and allowed the men to carry her down to the bottom of the stairs.

Rebecca had a bit of sense left in her and, as they were about to take her away, she looked up at her daughter and shouted, “I hope you enjoyed the money, Angela. I pray somehow you’ll never see another cent…” Her voice fractured in anguish, and she lost consciousness.