The Haunting of the Gemini (23 page)

He leaned in. “You did something else, too. You unlocked the past . . . and freed the damned. Doing so, you found out who we both are. Yes, Jackie, I killed you once upon a time. When you wore a yellow raincoat.”

TWENTY-FOUR

I never wore the color yellow. It always hurt my eyes and affected my vision. And I never knew why. I always felt very protective of children, any children, and would go out of my way to help anonymously. When I worked with families victimized by crime, I would help them grieve by listening to their stories, their dreams, their heartbreaks. So many times, I would slip without realizing it and refer to myself as a victim of homicide. I would see flashes of a child who looked like me, but I did not then understand who she was or why she came to me. I would stop and have to compose myself in front of my clients. I was essentially holding my own hand through these sessions.

Even though I believe in reincarnation, for many years I could not bring myself to face my own previous death. And when I finally did, at first the anger grew. Someone took my life. Someone took my parents' world and burnt it down to the ground. I relived the pain of my death. But now I can see through the anger and the pain, and I realize that I am fortunate to know—it has allowed me to put down my heavy burden.

Jane helped show me heaven. She held my hand and reminded me how to experience only joy. It was not a word. It was a feeling, a touch, a sight like never before. I finally understood my journey, my life's purpose. I now know that my work isn't something that just left me in isolation from regular humanity. It was there to bring me to my own grave and then take me to a higher level. There was a purpose—not only for those I help but for me as well. I am truly blessed.

* * *

Eddie leaned forward slightly across the prison desk. “I didn't realize in the beginning of all of this that the devil was credited. Not until I saw myself change. Something is inside of me. It was a process. I welcomed it. I [have] thought about killing myself many times. And it stops me,” Eddie said. “I don't care what people think. I have no interest in bullshit. I don't want fan mail. Such small minds,” he laughed. “You once asked me, Jackie, if I met that girl in a dark street or down an alley, what would I do? I was quiet, Jackie, so you could feel my answer. I would take her face off in less than a minute.”

Eddie in person was certainly honest, even more so than during our phone conversations.

“I'm no fucking joke. I'm not the one anyone wants to befriend.”

“Eddie, what do you want the world to know?”

He thought for a moment, although there was still no blinking.

“I'm not the only one. My family didn't do this. The lack of food or money didn't. The proof is in my hands. I made those weapons with knowledge I didn't have. The lack of money didn't stop me. I wouldn't have it any other way. I accepted the devil long before I knew what was happening.” And the devil, that tall man in black, had been with him ever since.

“People blame everything on poverty. I have no sense of guilt. Call me a sociopath; I don't care. But how many would wear my mask? How many have walked down dark alleys to hear my footsteps behind them?”

I tossed another question at him.

“Did anyone ever mention an exorcism to you?”

He sat back in his chair, and his eyes went completely black. The lights began to flicker. “I didn't think you would open such a can of worms in this lovely visiting room, with everyone at risk.” This was obviously not a subject he wanted to address, so of course, I pushed him even more. He tried to change the subject, but I eventually steered it back around.

“Kill me, rid me of my pain.” The voice that came from him was not his own. His eyes turned pleading and he grabbed my hand. “Don't let me linger. Save my soul . . .”

Then another voice, the one I was used to hearing from him, came forth in a vicious sneer. “Your soul? What soul?”

I pulled his hand off mine. “Why didn't those priests that tried to help you—the ones that came up to the prison and the ones you went to see—”

He interrupted me. “They couldn't handle it. They came up and knew I needed help. Leaving was them telling the devil it won.” He leaned over and clutched at his stomach in pain.

“Did they ever come back?” I asked.

“No, never,” he said. “They came up in the beginning to Rikers Island and saw with their own eyes what was in me. They prayed over me and stopped. Just stopped and said among themselves—how could such a Bible-carrying man do such things? They questioned God! And they never, ever came back.”

Before my visit, I'd gone to the church Eddie had frequented during the years he was committing all of his crimes. And I was turned away at the door. I told the priest that I was there for Heriberto Seda, and he bowed his head and shook it. “I can't,” he said. “I'm not in good health.” His faith was weak and fear ran through his blood. He knew what he would face if he allowed me to enter. So he asked me to leave. “God be with you. And all the angels,” he said as he did the sign of the cross. “Go now.”

* * *

It had been three hours since I first sat across from Eddie. I watched the clock the entire time, but he didn't look at it once. We had talked about many things, and I knew that he had not accepted that I would never be his escape hatch. That I would never do the devil's bidding. On the other hand,
I
knew now that I would never succumb to him.
I
realized that despite his terrorizing me, he would not win.

He picked his hand up off the table and held it out. “Bring your face to mine.” I heard the snort of an animal come from him, low but distinct, when I didn't move toward him. “Are you afraid I will bite your face off?”

“No, Eddie, I'm not.” I leaned forward until I was an inch away from him. “Do it, Eddie. Do what your gut tells you.”

He touched my hair. He touched the holy water. The pain shot through his body like a bullet from a gun—I could feel it in him. His fingertips burnt. I could smell it.

“You tricked me, Jackie,” he said. He started to slide his chair back, and I grabbed his arm to keep him in place.

“It's not me who commands you,” I said. “It's God who commands you. Release this soul; depart to hell.” I guess I never really give up hope that someone can be saved. Maybe someday, the devil will be forced out of Eddie. But not today. As I sat there, his face changed. The whites of his eyes disappeared, his breath turned foul and his skin wet and gray. I could smell the old blood on him. We locked hands.

“No, Jackie,” he said. “It was your mother who condemned you to face evil. You will be haunted for the rest of your life.”

Evil can enter anyone's life, but for him, I now realized that all the elements were in place long ago. The spotlight was on him, the people were fascinated and fearful, and he became a star. He liked that very much, even now.

The bell rang at that moment, just as he looked up at the clock. “Time's up,” Eddie said. “Time, Jackie. You like that song.” I did. “Time Is on My Side,” by The Rolling Stones, has been my ring tone for more than six years, not that I'd ever told him that. He stood up, and the guards rushed over. “Is time on anyone's side?” he said. I did not answer, just moved to the edge of the room and waited for the iron gates to open so I could leave. The guards escorted him out the opposite side. “It's the Gemini,” he said loudly. “The twin of the other.” The door swung shut and he was gone.

EPILOGUE

Eddie tells me he can't hear Patricia scream anymore. She has found freedom, and so he has lost his hold on her. And he is taking it hard. He used to close his eyes at night, put his hand on his chest, and listen to her. It was her screams that would sing him to sleep.

And there were others in his walls, too. He was especially fond of the dog, that little white thing whose master he had shot and wounded all those years ago. The terrified barks and cries of the dog were also music to his ears. But now that is gone as well.

When they first faded away, Eddie searched his cell. He took the pictures off his walls and put his ear as close as he could. He listened high and low and couldn't hear a thing. This is very upsetting to him. It's as if he's lost an inner power that had kept him strong.

“Now they're gone, and I don't want to be here anymore,” he said.

He has decided he needs to move on. Change the scenery. So, he told me, he's put in a request to transfer prisons. I don't know if that will happen. But I do know that all it would do is move the devil from place to place. There is nowhere to hide.

But as for me, my running has stopped. I still walk through the city and wonder how many demons walk among us and who they've targeted. But I now know that, even if they target me directly, I have the strength to take them on and beat them. After finally freeing Patricia and facing my own past life and death, I am more sure of who I am than ever before. I am a psychic medium, and I fight the devil.

My name is Jackie.

My husband, Will Barrett, and me.

(Joanne Agnelli)

Unless otherwise noted, all photos are from author Jackie Barrett.

My daughter, Joanne Agnelli, and me.

(Will Barrett)

New York's old Bellevue Psychiatric Hospital, which now serves as a homeless men's shelter.

(Joanne Agnelli)