The Cavity

Harvey Nash, DDS stared at the tooth and the tooth frowned back, unblinking.

“It doesn’t look like a cavity,” he said. “Hold on.”

Harvey checked the x-ray again.

“Have you ever had a crown replaced?”

“No,” said the patient.

“Ever had a veneer? There’s a lot of unliscensed-“

“No! I just have a throbbing toothache! Can I get some more of that stuff?”

Harvey looked at the tooth again. The discoloration looked almost like a spider crossing its legs. It looked ugly, a dark thing crawling across the crown of an otherwise perfect molar.

“I’ve already maxed you out on Novocain,” said Harvey, eyeing the empty needles on the steel tray.

He left the examination room and its patient and leaned against the reception desk.

“Where’s Tom?” he asked Gloria.

Gloria paused from the insurance form she was typing up.

“He’s out today,” she said. “Conference.”

“I remember now.”

“Also, you’re having lunch with your daughter after this appointment.”

Harvey nodded, chagrined.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you, Gloria. Have I ever told you what a lovely smile you have?”

Gloria smiled, pearly whites gleaming.

“I catch whatever overflows from your life,” she said, and went back to pecking her keyboard. “And I’m lucky to work in a dentist’s office.”

Back in the examination room, Harvey eyed the patient suspiciously. The patient looked back, nonplussed.

“Your tooth looks healthy as far as I can see, other than the discoloration. There’s no infection so no need for antibiotics.”

“But it hurts like a sonofabitch!”

“I can prescribe Anbesol and acetaminophen, but anything stronger is out of the question.”

“Then yank it out!”

Harvey sighed.

“Are you sure you want to remove it?”

“Well, you seem to be out of ideas!”

Harvey considered. Tom would be back the next day and might have some insight into this…thing in the patient’s mouth. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the tooth. The cross-legged spider leered at him from the screen.

“I’m getting a second opinion,” said Harvey. “I promise I’ll have an answer for you tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ll write you a prescription for Anbesol. It should help a bit. Talk to Gloria and she’ll squeeze you in tomorrow, if you’re available.”

The patient grumbled as he got up from the chair. Harvey sent the patient’s x-rays, along with the picture of the tooth, to Tom. There was no guarantee that Tom would get back to him in time, but the alternative was extracting what looked like a healthy tooth. He stepped out into reception and saw a girl with jet-black hair, a studded collar, and a leather skirt that ended in ripped fishnet stockings. Her skin was as pale as the wall paneling in his office, despite it being midsummer. A silver pentacle dangled on a chain around her neck.

“Hello, Margaret!” he said.

“Hi dad!” beamed Margaret. “Sully’s?”

“Greasy hot sandwiches it is,” sighed Harvey, thinking about his doctor scolding him over his cholesterol.

“I think I managed to link the strange things happening to specific dates,” said Margaret later in their booth, the scent of chopped beef permeating the air like a savory spirit. “It might be linked to moon phases.”

Harvey sighed again.

“As always, there’s a perfectly rational explanation for what’s going on,” he said. “There always is.”

“Always a skeptic! I know you’ve seen things too. Like the horde of rats that came up from the subway and then just vanished? Or the tidal wave that rolled through the stadium? Or the dragon that flew down the turnpike? I know you were there for that one!”

“I won’t deny that I’ve seen strange things, things I can’t explain. But lacking an explanation, I’m not going to speculate.”

Harvey looked at his untouched sandwich, his thoughts swirling. The tooth nagged at him, like a… toothache.

“Well, I know that things are getting stranger,” said Margaret around a mouthful of sandwich. “I study these things. We got the Circle together to hold a summoning ritual-“

“Look, I know that you’re having fun with your friends with your Wicca stuff, but you really shouldn’t get too deep into this. It won’t explain what’s going on or what do about it.”

“Dad! We’re really making progress! Don’t shit on our circle just because you don’t understand what we’re doing.”

Margaret’s dark eyes became moody and focused on something outside the window. There was a rumble of thunder in the distance.

“I’m sorry, Margaret. I know this means a lot to you. I promise I’ll keep an open mind.”

Margaret’s face brightened with instant forgiveness.

“It’s okay, Dad. I know how skeptical you are. It’s what makes you a great dentist. So, how’s work? Pulling a lot of teeth?”

“Well, looking to pull one, anyway,” he said, pulling out his phone.

He showed her a picture of the tooth and was startled when Margaret’s usually pale skin went even paler. She took the phone and zoomed in on the spider-like mark. Unconsciously, her other hand went to her pentacle and fingered it.

“I’ve seen this before,” she all but whispered. “It’s in one of our texts. I’m not sure which one.”

“Okay, you’re making me nervous,” said Harvey. “You’re telling me that you’ve seen this…”

“Symbol.”

“Symbol? A discoloration on a random tooth?”

“You think I’m making this up?”

“No, but it seems…”

Harvey trailed off.

“You were going to say ‘farfetched’,” said Margaret.

Harvey smiled.

“I did say I would keep an open mind.”

“I’m going to look through the books. I’m sure I’ve seen this before.”

Margaret bounced up and rushed from the restaurant. Harvey added another sigh to the growing army of resignation and waved a server over to ask for a takeout box.

The walk home was uneventful, other than having to sidestep the ivy that skittered up the sides of the brownstones like spiders, sprouting little red heads that bloomed into four-winged birds. Harvey pondered the strangeness of the tooth. The little mark stared back at him in his mind’s eye, mocking him, daring him to look deeper than even an x-ray could. He was so lost in thought that he ducked beneath the swinging arms of a passing troll while barely noticing it. The tooth followed him all the way home, along with an assortment of squirrel-like creatures that were not squirrels, who speculated on the nuts he might have in his pockets.

Harvey was still thinking about the tooth when he entered his house and heard the faint strains of The Cure drifting down from Margaret’s bedroom. It wasn’t until Harvey was pulling the casserole out of the oven that Margaret appeared downstairs carrying a very large, very old book.

“I think I found the answer,” she said. “Well, an answer.”

She set the book on the table and opened it to pages that had taken on a coffee-like color. Harvey hoped that his casserole wouldn’t catch a hundred-year-old fungus from it. Margaret pointed to a row of symbols on the page, each with strange, handwritten names underneath.

“What is this?” asked Harvey.

“Crowley’s Demonology. I’ve been looking through my books all afternoon.”

“Demons?”

Margaret nodded and stabbed a black-painted nail at a familiar symbol. To Harvey it looked like a spider about to crawl out of the page.

“That’s the sigil of Nizguladente, a nasty Mesopotamian demon.”

“And… you think he’s hiding in my patient’s tooth?”

Margaret smiled conspiratorially.

“Not hiding, possessing.”

Harvey’s phone chimed. He pulled it out and stared at Tom’s message: That’s a weird formation. Not like any carie I’ve ever seen. Maybe an unusual discoloration. I’d like to see his records in detail when I get back.

“Tom wasn’t very helpful,” said Harvey.

“Can I take a look?”

Harvey looked at his daughter and felt a wave of tenderness. He hadn’t considered that she might be interested in following him into his career. Margaret had always seemed rudderless, especially after the death of her mother four years ago.

“Of course you can, if the patient is okay with it.”

Gloria broke out into her trademark dazzling smile when she saw Margaret enter the office.

“Take our daughters to work day?” she said.

“Something like that,” said Harvey.

“I’m here to observe,” said Margaret, hefting the overly large backpack she was wearing.

“Your first appointment is already in your exam room,” said Gloria. “And he does not look happy.”

Harvey looked at Margaret and raised his eyebrows.

“Just follow my lead.”

The patient was sitting in the chair.

“Whaddya got for me, doc?” he said.

“This is my… uh… dental assistant. She’s working on her DDS.”

The patient eyed Margaret doubtfully.

“Is she even out of high school?”

“Hi!” said Margaret. “I’ll just be observing.”

The patient shook his head.

“Whatever. Just get this tooth out, doc.”

Harvey adjusted the light.

“Has the pain changed at all?” he asked.

“It’s gotten worse! It’s throbbing, almost to a rhythm.”

“Is it throbbing with your pulse?”

“Faster,” said the patient. “Almost like someone’s singing-“

“Wait,” said Margaret. “What kind of singing?”

The patient’s eyes locked with Margaret’s.

“It’s like a chant, almost.”

Margaret went through her backpack and pulled out very old book. She thumbed through several bookmarks as both Harvey and the patient stared at her, finally opening the book like a revelation.

“A radicibus dentis surgo et conspueo in te,” Margaret intoned.

The patient nodded.

“Yeah! It’s something like that!”

Margaret beamed at Harvey.

“Confirmed! It’s Nizguladente!”

“Now Margaret…”

The patient clamped his hands to his jaw and grunted in pain.

“Get the damned tooth out!” he roared.

Harvey grabbed a pair of forceps and gently moved the patient’s hands. From the corner of his eye, he saw Margaret take a small bottle from her bag.

“Dad, I can help!”

“Not now, Margaret!”

Harvey looked in the patient’s mouth and saw the discoloration had grown, a dark, malignant thing. As Harvey moved in with the forceps, he saw Margaret doing something to his ultrasonic cleaner.

“That won’t help us right now!” he said as he grasped the tooth with the forceps.

The reaction was a shriek from the patient. As Harvey tugged on the tooth, he saw the patient’s eyes were red, almost glowing. Steam shot from the patient’s mouth, and Harvey staggered back, gaping at the glowing red stump of metal that used to be a stainless-steel instrument. The patient levered upward from the chair like he was on springs. His eyes glowed a malevolent crimson and fixed upon Harvey.

“THE TIME OF THE JAWS OF THE RED KING HAS COME,” boomed the patient, and he slid toward Harvey, propelled by an invisible force. “BOW TO ME, OR BE MASTICATED FOR ETERNITY.”

“Dad! Here!”

Harvey turned just in time to catch the cleaner Margaret had tossed.

“What-“

“Clean the tooth!” she cried.

There were no other options. Harvey leapt forward, jammed the cleaner into the patient’s mouth, and squeezed the button.

The sound that erupted from the patient’s mouth could have shattered windows. His mouth opened so wide his jaw might have become unhinged, and he fell backwards into the chair, steam still drifting from his mouth, his eyes closed.

Harvey and Margaret slowly approached and looked into the patient’s slackened mouth. The mark was gone. Harvey looked at Margaret, and she wiggled the little bottle under his nose.

“Water, blessed by the Goddess under the full moon,” she said.

The patient’s eyes flew open.

“Hey, the pain is gone! Thanks, doc!”

In an instant, he was walking out the door, rubbing his jaw. Harvey regarded the ruined, still-smoking forceps on the floor.

“That’s one for the journals,” he said.

A moan drifted back to them from reception. Harvey and Margaret rushed from the examination room. Harvey was armed with the cleaner.

Gloria was hunched over in her chair, holding her jaw. She looked mournfully at Harvey.

“I’ve got this head-splitting toothache,” she whimpered. “Luckily, I’m in a dentist’s office.”


Word count: 1995