Anem Deoraí (on-um dyoh-ree)

The North Woods in a section we call The Valley is notorious for hunting, fishing and camping. People come from all over the world to the Pacific Northwest to camp there. It is a 750-some acre plot of land which is now owned by the federal government. Not unlike most lands, something tragic happened on the 750-some acre plot that we now call The North Woods. Unfortunately for me, I had heard one story after we moved here ten years ago but brushed it off as childish ghost stories told by the locals to scare the new homeowners moving to town. It was something about a woman going mad and drowning, to come back as a dark and vengeful spirit that wanted to steal the lives of others. This is 1983, not 1883. I didn’t think we believed in this crap anymore. 

My husband was set to go out with two of his friends for a five-day camping trip in The North Woods. He felt like a poser having lived here for ten years and never taking advantage of the wonder of nature that was practically our backyard. We lived in The Valley, only about 20 minutes from the entry of The North Woods. 

As I watched my husband and his friends pack their things into the 4Runner, I couldn’t shake this pain in the pit of my stomach that was sharp, dull, nauseating and anxiety inducing all at the same time. My head swam, but I tried to keep a straight face. My husband had been camping with his friends hundreds of times before, but I had never felt like this. 

“I think we have everything,” my husband, Lionel, sometimes called Lion, said, “I’ll make a sweep inside one more time.” He turned from his friends and squeezed my hand as he walked by me and back through the garage. His friends, Todd and Benny were talking amongst themselves by the car as I walked up. 

“Have fun, guys!” I offered to them as they both looked at me. 

“Oh, we will,” Todd replied. 

“You sure you don’t want to come?” Benny offered. Each of the three had tried to convince me to come on the camping trip, my husband being the most forceful. I just wasn’t a camping gal; I couldn’t help it. I enjoyed a nice, dry, clean bed, no bugs, and most of all, I enjoyed walls. I also had this irrational fear of being murdered in a tent, so there’s that. Lion told me repeatedly he would buy a camper RV, with a locking door where I could have all of the things I enjoyed; a clean, dry bed, no bugs, and those walls we discussed earlier. But I knew we didn’t have the money for that and besides, if I were being honest, I didn’t mind the time to myself. Five days was bordering on too much, but I’d be fine. 

“Nah, you guys go. It’ll be beautiful this week out there, at least according to the weatherman,” I looked up into the sky, like the Gods would have plastered the next week’s forecast into the clouds. 

“You mean, the weatherman that can’t predict the rain even when it’s raining?” Todd chuckled. 

“Fair point, but this is also the pacific northwest. Our weather gives us whiplash on a good day,” I rebutted with a counter chuckle. I wanted to go inside and say goodbye to Lion, since I knew that was what he was waiting for, too. 

“Alright guys, well, be safe, see you soon!” I waved as I walked toward the house. The guys called their greetings to me and waved back. I stepped into the mud/laundry room that led directly to our kitchen, where Lion was standing in front of the open fridge. 

“Looking for a snack for the road?” I asked with a smile. 

“All that packing made me hungry,” he grabbed some sandwich ingredients, placing them on the island behind him. He whipped a ham and cheese sandwich together quickly and came around the island to give me a hug. I melted into his arms as usual. My husband was an average height, about 5 foot 8, had sun-kissed skin from working outside all day, and had a rich, full head of reddish-brown hair; which is partly why we called him Lion. 

“Please be safe, okay?” I asked. 

“I always am.” He replied as he pulled away just far enough to kiss me. 

I waved at the 4Runner as it drove down our long driveway to the main road. 

The next few days were uneventful. I did housework, as well as other chores that I neglected that needed to be done eventually. On the third night, I woke up from a nightmare that was utterly terrifying. I was a bird, and I was watching down on Lion, Todd and Benny in the forest. They were sitting around the campfire, when something called Lion’s attention away from the camp. I couldn’t quite hear what was being said, but I could note the urgency in both Todd and Benny’s voice as Lion was relentlessly trying to leave. Finally, he did. The only thing I heard clearly during this time was his name being shouted from the trees; but… it sounded like my voice. Then, there were screams. Blood curdling, horrible screams. Which was when I woke up, drenched in sweat. The time was 1:11 AM. I did not sleep much after that dream. With no way to contact any of the three men, I had no choice but to wait the few days until their return to find out if Lion was truly okay. I’m not implying I can see things happen, far from it. It’s just, sometimes when people really love each other, you just know if something happens to the other. 

The day had come for the guy’s return, and I was pulling the door open as soon as I saw the front end of the red 4Runner pulling into the driveway. I waited for the men to pile out of the SUV, looking bone-tired, weary and a little thinner than they were five days ago. When Lion got out of the backseat, it wasn’t so much of a red flag, because I trust either Todd or Benny to drive our vehicle if needed, but what was a red flag was how pale Lion looked. He normally had tan skin from his work, but in just five days, he looked as if he had been drained of life. I started at this. Benny, who was driving, stood beside me. 

“He’s not feeling so great,” he began in a hushed tone, “I’m not sure if he picked up a bug or something out there, or if he was already sick to begin with.” Todd was helping Lion inside, slowly walking past us so Benny stopped talking. 

“Hi honey! I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well. I’ll help the guys get their stuff figured out and unload your bags into the garage,” I said

“Thanks, sweetie. You’re the best,” he said rather weakly, brushing my cheek with his hand. 

“I’ll help you and Todd load your cars,” I started. Benny grabbed my arm. 

“Look, Ashley, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said urgently. “Two nights ago, Lion wandered away from the campfire for a bit. The next morning, he was sick. There are many things in those woods that are toxic if he got ahold of them and happened to eat them, but that doesn’t sound like Lion to me, he isn’t stupid enough to eat something if he doesn’t know if it’s toxic or poisonous.” I took all this in, at the same time thinking of the dream I had in the perspective of the bird. Had that happened? 

“There is something else it could be, although, I should not be the one to speak of it.” 

“Speak of what?” I asked. 

“I can’t say the name; here,” He fished into his back pocket for his wallet. “This is my grandmother’s phone number. She’s the one you need to talk to.” I inspected the card he handed me. 

“Madam Kimmounah? A tealeaf reader? You want me to go see a made-up psychic?” 

“Hey that’s my grandma you’re talking about”, he chuckled, “She can tell you stories of the old Gods, she knows how to do so in a space that is safe and protected. I don’t.” He shrugged. 

“Okay,” I began, “I’ll give her a call after I get the doctor over here to do some tests.” Our family doctor lived just up the road and had told us to call him if we ever had an emergency instead of making the journey to town for the E.R., which was over forty minutes away. I helped the guys with their bags and belongings, and they helped me move Lion’s things into the garage. I waved them both off, promising to let them know how he’s doing later and what the doctor says. 

The doctor showed up not too long after I called him. He seemed to be very worried about Lion’s symptoms and wanted to do a toxicology screening immediately. 

After his exam and drawing the blood, he said he would go into town himself and have the lab there run the tests. He told me to stay by the phone so he could call me with the results. I waited, and nursed Lion, and waited some more. The phone finally rang hours later. I answered with an urgent, “Hello?” It was the doctor. 

Nothing was wrong with him. He had not been poisoned or eaten anything toxic, there seemed to be no trace of any bites or cuts or scrapes when the doctor examined him, so that ruled-out snakes, spiders or bug bites. The test results said he was fine. 

“Must be some sort of stomach bug, ma’am. Best to let him rest and see if it passes. Keep giving him clear liquids until he can keep them down for 48 hours. Then you can try soft foods. Call me if he gets worse, or if you need anything.” He hung up. His symptoms were consistent with a bug of some sort, he was vomiting, had a fever, was sweating but said he was cold, he was shaky, tired. That seemed to add up but something in my gut told me this diagnosis wasn’t right. 

Over the course of the next few days, I noticed Lion’s behavior changing. He was sick, sure, but usually he’s still the happy, thoughtful person he always is. He says thank you if I brought him something, smiled at me, even if it was weakly, squeezed my hand, those types of things. But recently, he hasn’t smiled, hasn’t said thank you, hasn’t even tried to grab my hand. His eyes are glassy and he seems to look right through me. Something was telling me to contact this Mrs. Kimmounah. I gave her a call, and she had told me that her grandson spoke to her and she was well informed of the situation and hoped I would call. She told me to call Benny to come sit with Lion and asked that I come talk to her as quickly as I could. I did as she asked, and luckily it was a Sunday, and Benny was not at work, so he was at our house in under twenty minutes. 

“Keep an open mind,” he told me as I strode out the door after kissing my husband on his forehead, which tingled my lips because of his blazing hot temperature. I got in the 4Runner and drove to the address Benny had given me. When I arrived over an hour later, I was staring at a tall, Victorian style mansion that felt very out of place for this type of landscape. This home was at least three stories, a porch that wrapped around the entirety of the house and had vines and moss growing up all sides of it. The home was surrounded by evergreen trees that created a sort of refuge of cover from the sky. 

I knocked on the door, and an old woman draped with all sorts of scarves and material came to the door. 

“H-hello,” I stuttered, “I’m Ashley. I was given your address to talk about my husband, Lion?” There was a beat of silence. 

“If you choose to cross this threshold, my dear, just be warned there is no unknowing the knowledge you will find in here.” 

I walked forward, crossed the threshold, and followed the woman. 

We sat down together in her parlor, where she had tea and cookies prepared for us already. She poured the tea, supplied a plate for me with cookies, and waited until I finished the drink as she asked me questions about my childhood and life. After I drank the tea, she read the leaves. She nodded her head and set the cup down. 

“You are ready to hear this truth.” She said to me. She lit some candles around us, said a few words in a language I could not understand, and then sat down again. 

“Are you familiar with something called the Anam Deoraí?” She asked. 

“No,” I said. 

“Let me see, have you ever been told a story of a man dying and becoming an angry spirit?” 

“It was a woman,” I corrected, “a woman was the one who died.”

“You’re right, child. There are multiple versions of this story, and each version is as true as the other,” She picked up a book and read from the old, weathered pages: 

“A man and a woman were in love, and when the man was killed in a mining accident, the woman took her own life in spite and hatred of the God of Death. In doing so, she was banished from the afterworld and left behind by the God of Death, forcing her to forever roam the earth as a spirit looking for a soul to inhabit to feel that love, that need for someone once more; however, it aches to steal another’s path to the afterworld most of all. This spirit is what turned into the monster that roams The North Woods today, calling names, bellowing for help, shape shifting, telling lies, and dispersing into shadow when the wrong folks get too close. Because of this, when in the forest you are never supposed to answer to your name being called from a distance, and you are to stay by your fire at night. Fire is one of the only things that can save you from this spirit, funnily enough. The reason is because the light of the fire exposes the lie the spirit tries to lure you away with. Since this spirit is a liar and a shape shifter, it can take the form of anyone you know or love. For example, it may use the likeness of your sister or mother looking for you if you happen to roam away at night. It's advised not to enter the forest at all during the night, but you know how some people are. Looking for a scare. The old folk named this spirit Anam Deoraí, which translates to a wandering soul or homeless spirit,” She finished. I took all of this information in. 

“And you think this is what happened to Lionel?” I asked, connecting the dots. 

“I believe it is, my dear. And if that is the case, there is not much time to spare,” she began to tell me of the ritual I would have to perform to help save Lionel. “You will have to encircle him with flame. Fire is the only way to drive the spirit away. As the book says, the fire forces the truth to appear, the spirit cannot live in a vessel that is not its own; this is a truth, brought forth by fire.” Mrs. Kimmounah said she would go ahead and call my house for Benny, to let him know what was happening and to enlist his help after she helped me pack the things I needed for the ritual. I did not stay to listen to the conversation. Why was I going along with this crazy idea? Was it because his bloodwork showed nothing wrong with him? What if this was just a bug, or the flu? Was I willing to risk my husband’s life over open flame for this crazy idea? I drove like mad. 

As I walked in through our front door, all the lights were turned off, but the moon shone so brightly that evening, it illuminated the house. 

“Lionel?” I called. Silence. 

“Lion, honey?” I called once more. Nothing. 

I turned the corner into the kitchen, where I saw Lionel standing with a kitchen knife over the bloody body that used to belong to Benny. I could tell he wasn’t breathing. Just as I lifted my gaze to Lionel’s, I jumped because he was already staring at me.

“Ah, Hello honey. Welcome home.” He said in a gruff voice. His eyes were hollow now, the light in them completely snuffed out. The last words of Mrs. Kimmounah echoed in my mind, 

‘If he’s already killed, it’s too late. His spirt will be replaced and your Lionel will become the Anam Deoraí. You must run for your life if this is the case.’ 

There's no going back now.