Life With Boys

Life with boys … kind of … it’s because of the boys I found myself able to almost deal with this one … it happened several years ago, but I can still remember it so clearly … this week, I was reminded of the story and decided it was time to share …

In my graphic design classes, we usually do some kind of semester-long project, a travel guide, magazine, or portfolio … which means the end-of-the-semester class meetings are filled with peer reviews and last-minute corrections … I was making my way around the class, talking with students about possible tweaks and adjustments when I came to one student who was doing nothing … this was very unusual … this international student had been interested and industrious all semester …

Me: “How’s your project going? Do you have any questions? …

Student: “I can’t move my right hand.” …

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. Did you injure it somehow?

Student: “I don’t have control of the right side of my body.”

Me: … at a bit of a loss for words … “Do you need to go to student health?”

Student: “They will be unable to assist with this issue.”

Me: “OK, is there something I can do? Maybe you want to go get a drink of water?”

Student: “I can’t drink the water. That is how she is getting to me.”

Me .. Thinking she who? Get to you how? “Do you feel like you are in danger? Do I need to contact public safety?”

Student: “They will not believe me .. no one believes me … ”

Me … OK, now what am I supposed to do? “Is there something you want to talk about? Maybe the stress of finals is getting to you?”

Student: “Earlier this week, when I was meditating, I felt her take over my body … you see, I am deeply spiritual and can enter into a very deep meditative state that allows me to see my chakras … I could feel her evil intentions possess me through every water droplet in the air, through every drop I drink. She is controlling me … “

Me: “Who is she?

Student: “The person in the dorm on the floor above my room. She held a ritual with a chicken with a few other people, allowing them to do dark magic, and it is spreading through the air vents to my room, and she is hurting me.”

Me … Chicken? What kind of chicken? Are we talking like a rotisserie or a living chicken … How do you get a living chicken into the dorms? Surely someone would have noticed a chicken … “A chicken?”

Student: “It’s not the chicken that is important. It is the ritual and the dark magic.”

Me … clearly mystified …

Student: “I told you that you would not believe me. You and your Western medicine and skeptical belief system.”

Me: … well crap, me and my skeptical brain are not quite sure what to say here … “When was the last time you drank something? How are you sleeping?” … ask the Mom questions … that might work …

Student: “I’ve had three sips of water since yesterday, and I slept two days ago …”

Me: “Maybe it is time for another sip of water.”

Student: “I’m not afraid to die, but I worry about what will happen to my friends and family.”

Me: looks around to see if any other students are listening in on this … all feign ignorance … “Are you going to hurt yourself?”

Student: “No, but she might … I think I will go out to the quad to see if I can meditate and force the possession link to break.”

Me: “It’s December in St. Louis, it is 18 degrees … maybe you can look out the window and meditate?”

Student: “No, the walls trap the water.” And out the door they go, sans coat …

Me … Now what? I head upstairs to find someone who might have a better idea than letting the student turn into a popsicle in the middle of the quad … I wander into the holiday party for full-time faculty, where I find the dean and my supervisor.

Me: “I have a problem. I have a student who thinks they are possessed.”

Dean: Chuckles … “Sure you do … Just how much punch have you had?”

Me: “No punch. They are in the middle of the quad, trying to meditate the possession away as we speak.”

Dean: “It’s cold out there.”

Me … with a bit of duh, “Yes, but they must be coming in eventually because they left all their stuff in the lab.”

At this point, I had to relay the entire conversation to the dean, the advisor for international students, the director of student housing, the RA, student health, public safety, and a host of others. By the time it was over, a rough plan in place, I returned to the lab, and the backpack was gone … and I was worried. Someone else was going to take it from here … and as it was the holidays, I was finished for the semester. I tried to get more information, but HIPPA and FERPA protected the student, and I still don’t really know what happened after that bewildering afternoon. I hope they got the help they needed … I hope my interference and Western medicine found a way to connect with this student … I hope I won’t have to confront this kind of bizarre again for a bit … but this life with boys has taught me that there is a curveball around every corner … and you just have to go with it sometimes … and hope to guess right …