It was years ago, on La Reunion. There was a lady who specialised in exorcisms, and operated in a large hanger with benches around the sides for people to sit on and watch. She resided on a central chair with another chair opposite for the 'victim'. There was also a nearby couch for recumbent work. The only entrance into this hanger was a pair of large sliding doors.
There is a culture on La Reunion involving Catholicism, dead chickens and graveyards, whereby curses can be put on the unsuspecting by payment to a sorcier. The time we went to the hanger there were several families sitting on the benches holding onto a daughter or son who had been 'possessed', and they were each dealt with in turn.
The one I remember, as I became directly involved, was a teenage girl. She was called to the chair by the lady, whose accoutrements consisted on a crucifix, a bowl of holy water, salt and a rattan cane! She was accompanied and encouraged to sit by what I assumed was her mother. She - the girl - walked and sat in a very limp fashion. She seemed disinterested and embarrassed rather than scared.
The lady talked to her for a while and then suddenly thrust the crucifix into her line of vision. The girl reacted violently, arching back in her chair, stiffening her body and screaming in an unearthly fashion. I should mention I had been laughing earlier in the evening, and had been seen and admonished by the lady for taking matters too lightly. I wasn't laughing at this juncture. My spine was tingling. This girl's reaction was electrifying.
The lady called on two blokes to hold the girl to the chair while she sprinkled holy water and salt in or around her eyes. She also started tapping the girl with her cane and calling out for the devil to depart. The girl continued arching and screaming and then, to everyone's alarm, she broke free and ran across the building, heading for the sliding doors. She caught the door guardians unawares, and was almost through them and into the wide open spaces when she was caught and pulled back.
She was manhandled onto the couch, at the bequest of the lady, and when it could be seen that two men were insufficient to hold her in place, volunteers were called for from the audience. I was allotted her right thigh to hold down, which I did, at first using no more force than would be required to contain a cat, or small dog, but soon, realising her strength, with all the effort I could muster.
I, along with the other blokes helping, was far stronger than this girl, but we were all compelled to use every ounce of our strength to keep her from escaping, especially as the event culminated. Using her crucifix, applications of holy water and salt, and her rattan cane, the lady tried to entice or force the devil to leave. The girl resisted. She screamed, she arched her body, her head turned wildly (not 360 degrees, as in the Exorcist film, but more than 90, each way) and she spat. Did she spit! Not saliva, particularly, but gross gobbets of green stuff, that stuck like glue to all of us.
The beatings, the sights of the crucifix, the applications of water and salt and the cries for the devil to relinquish his power over her, were all repeated, time and again, as we manfully struggled to hold on (the thigh I was gripping felt like a writhing python) until, suddenly, the girls's body went limp. It was as if all the air had gone out of her. We stood back, the lady helped her off the couch and she was reunited with her family.
We all went back to our seats and the evening continued with other 'clients' being brought forward.
There is a culture on La Reunion involving Catholicism, dead chickens and graveyards, whereby curses can be put on the unsuspecting by payment to a sorcier. The time we went to the hanger there were several families sitting on the benches holding onto a daughter or son who had been 'possessed', and they were each dealt with in turn.
The one I remember, as I became directly involved, was a teenage girl. She was called to the chair by the lady, whose accoutrements consisted on a crucifix, a bowl of holy water, salt and a rattan cane! She was accompanied and encouraged to sit by what I assumed was her mother. She - the girl - walked and sat in a very limp fashion. She seemed disinterested and embarrassed rather than scared.
The lady talked to her for a while and then suddenly thrust the crucifix into her line of vision. The girl reacted violently, arching back in her chair, stiffening her body and screaming in an unearthly fashion. I should mention I had been laughing earlier in the evening, and had been seen and admonished by the lady for taking matters too lightly. I wasn't laughing at this juncture. My spine was tingling. This girl's reaction was electrifying.
The lady called on two blokes to hold the girl to the chair while she sprinkled holy water and salt in or around her eyes. She also started tapping the girl with her cane and calling out for the devil to depart. The girl continued arching and screaming and then, to everyone's alarm, she broke free and ran across the building, heading for the sliding doors. She caught the door guardians unawares, and was almost through them and into the wide open spaces when she was caught and pulled back.
She was manhandled onto the couch, at the bequest of the lady, and when it could be seen that two men were insufficient to hold her in place, volunteers were called for from the audience. I was allotted her right thigh to hold down, which I did, at first using no more force than would be required to contain a cat, or small dog, but soon, realising her strength, with all the effort I could muster.
I, along with the other blokes helping, was far stronger than this girl, but we were all compelled to use every ounce of our strength to keep her from escaping, especially as the event culminated. Using her crucifix, applications of holy water and salt, and her rattan cane, the lady tried to entice or force the devil to leave. The girl resisted. She screamed, she arched her body, her head turned wildly (not 360 degrees, as in the Exorcist film, but more than 90, each way) and she spat. Did she spit! Not saliva, particularly, but gross gobbets of green stuff, that stuck like glue to all of us.
The beatings, the sights of the crucifix, the applications of water and salt and the cries for the devil to relinquish his power over her, were all repeated, time and again, as we manfully struggled to hold on (the thigh I was gripping felt like a writhing python) until, suddenly, the girls's body went limp. It was as if all the air had gone out of her. We stood back, the lady helped her off the couch and she was reunited with her family.
We all went back to our seats and the evening continued with other 'clients' being brought forward.