by V. Cobe
CHAPTER 13
Clues
The day remains sunny but became windy. In the background are glimpses of large gray and heavy clouds; a storm is looming.
The car stops, I pay the taxi driver and climb out into the wind. I could use a black cloak right now to protect me; alas, I’d be taken to a Correction Center immediately if I took it out of my bag.
The Colors live in a luxury villa composed of gray stone and wood. A short path separating two lawns leads the way from the sidewalk to the front door. There’s a tree on the left side, but nothing except for grass on the right side.
The door opens, and Jemimah appears with an inquisitive expression on her face framed by disheveled blonde hair.
“Oh, Bethel, I’ve been thinking a lot about you. Come inside.”
I am escorted to the living room, right after the entrance hall. It’s decorated in an antique style, full of carpets with flowery patterns, dead colors, paintings with religious and depressing themes, Faithful Crosses and statues of saints.
“I wanted to call you but didn’t know if I should,” she says as we sit on a sofa embellished with a pattern of purple flowers. “Did they find anything?”
“Unfortunately, no. He’s still missing.”
“How awful. I’ll do whatever you need.”
“I actually came here to ask for your help. Or rather, Jaala’s. It’s nothing special. I’d just like to talk to him.”
The apprehension is visible on her face.
“But why?”
“It has nothing to do with him. I just hope he may know something that can help the Brigade.”
“Of course. I hope so, too. He’s in the backyard playing with the cat.”
She gets up and leaves the room. I hear her shout her son’s name.
A family portrait hangs on the other side of the room, above a dining table, occupying almost the entire wall. Aduí is standing on the left side of the frame, Jemimah, the same height as Aduí, on the right, and Jaala, his height reaching his parents’ navels, in the middle. He must’ve been five or six years old. The floor and the background are the same gray, and behind the three is a large golden cross with red balls on its tips. Aduí is dressed in a dark blue suit, white shirt and light blue tie. Jemimah has on a dark blue dress—the long hem allows only a glimpse of her white high-heel shoes—and silver cross-shaped earrings hang from her ears. Both show forced smiles. Jaala’s wearing a gray suit, white shirt and red tie. He has short and spiky hair, shaped with gel but unkempt. He holds a doll in a pink dress horizontally so that it looks like she’s lying in the air, asleep. His head is lowered as if looking at the doll in his hands, but his eyes are fixed on us, straight. He smiles without showing his teeth.
It’s not the kind of image I’d ask to be turned into a giant portrait.
A cat enters the room followed by Jaala and Jemimah.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Sá,” greets Jaala and sits on the sofa next to me.
“Sorry to interrupt your playing. I wanted to talk to you about Alem. As you know, he disappeared and we still don’t know where he is.”
He’s a shy boy and has difficulty maintaining eye contact, which contradicts what Alem says about him.
“Is that okay?” I ask after his silence.
He nods.
“Good. Can you tell me what happened the night he disappeared? Alem went to bed early, right?”
“Yes, he said he was tired.”
He pauses but I keep quiet to allow him to talk.
“Sister Ada had asked him to get some stones from the lake for one of the gardens. He returned without stones and went to bed. I tried to convince him to stay up because we were going to watch Prisoners of Eden, which we’d been wanting to see for a long time, but he went anyway. When the movie was over, I went to his room to tell him what he’d missed, but he wasn’t there, so I went to bed.”
“At what time was that?” Jemimah asks, anticipating my question.
“I don’t know… maybe ten.”
“And Sister Ada didn’t ask about the stones?”
“I don’t know, she was a bit distracted. We even thought it was weird when she asked him to go to the lake, but we didn’t say anything.”
“Why was it weird?” I ask.
“Well… we’re not supposed to walk around there. The bishop and the nuns say they don’t want us walking next to the lake because it’s dangerous, we can fall into wells and drown. And there are stories of the Devil walking there at night.”
“And did he look okay when he came back?”
He ponders for a while looking at the floor.
“I don’t know, I guess not…. He was a bit strange when he returned. He looked tired, so I didn’t even insist that he stay.”
“Tired like what? As if he’d been running?”
“Um, maybe. But I mean tired like he didn’t have a lot of energy. And very severe. But he wasn’t angry. Hazael teased him and everything because he was going to bed so early, but he didn’t even care.”
The cat grazes against my legs. It’s a tabby and looks emaciated, as if it hasn’t eaten for several days, and the fur is exceedingly thin.
“Listen, Jaala… didn’t you find it strange that Alem wasn’t in his room when you went to sleep?”
He looks down.
“Was the bed unmade?”
He shakes his head.
“I found it a bit strange… but I didn’t know it was anything bad. I thought he might have been doing something on his own, I don’t know. He could’ve gone to the organ room or for a walk… even if it was prohibited at those hours. Sometimes he does things that the nuns say we shouldn’t. It could’ve been one of those things, and I didn’t want to accuse him of anything or get him into trouble.”
“Jaala’s not guilty of what happened,” exclaims his mother.
I don’t want to blame the kid.
“Of course not. I know he’s not. All right, you’ve already helped me a lot.”
“Go on, go play outside again.”
“Goodbye, Ms. Sá.” He runs out the door.
“I really hope you can find him,” says Jemimah.
I pick up my bag to leave.
“Wait a minute. I just remembered I have something to give you. Just a second.”
She goes to the door and shouts “Jaala!”
I get up and go out into the hall in front of the stairs Jaala just ascended.
“Jaala has something for you. You can take it now so you don’t have to return later.”
The cat continues to brush against my legs, even though I shoo it constantly.
“Cordel, get out of here! Shoo! Poor cat.”
My ankles are full of cat hair.
“He’s getting a lot of black spots on his fur.” She points to the cat. “It was all white before. It’s possessed or something, it has to be. If he gets totally black, I’ll have to have him put down. I’ll not be accused of being a witch.”
“Of course not.”
Jaala runs down the stairs with a book in his hand.
I get my bag, and Jemimah opens the front door for me.
Jaala approaches and hands me the book. It has a yellow hardcover entitled The World in Photographs.
“Thank you,” I say. “Goodbye!”
I don’t know what the book is but I don’t feel like being here making conversation. I turn and walk out the door.
“Jaala brought it by mistake,” says Jemimah as I walk. “It was Alem’s… a book that he liked very much it seems. I thought it should stay with you.”
I stop and turn to face her.
“It was Alem’s?” I repeat, perplexed. “It is Alem’s.”
Through the taxi window I see a billboard at a bus stop:
__________
Book Festival – November 29 – Warehouse R
I don’t know why, but I feel like laughing.
“You can stop here,” I tell the driver as we approach my door.
/> I notice only now the way he looks at me. It’s almost like the familiarity of an accomplice. I suppose he knows me and must be from Umbra.
I no longer mind that they know where I live; no one is looking for me anymore.
I climb the stairs to my bedroom, undress and lie on top of the bedspread. I’m still so tired. I haven’t slept in days. I close my eyes for only a moment, just a bit so I can rest….
I’m holding hands with him, spinning fast. I feel it, but my eyes see a dragged image, as if in slow motion. We are on Sun’s Farm, treading the green grass under a clear and warm sun. I laugh out loud and Alem laughs too as we become dizzy with the twirls.
A frog comes flying between us, and he follows it with his eyes. He lets go of me to chase it. He runs after it, laughing, and throws himself to the ground and manages to catch it. He observes it carefully.
Thunder sounds in the background. The day takes on a reddish hue, but black clouds cover the sky. Lightning strikes nearby followed by the roaring thunder.
I sense danger. I look at Alem, who is looking at the sky, and try to go to him to pick him up and return home, but my hands are attached to chains that come out from the ground. I force them, but they won’t move.
The frog in Alem’s hands transforms slowly and fluidly into a snake that continues to grow and wraps itself around his waist. Reuel stands motionless at his side and cries profusely, with a Bible opened in his hands, and recites a passage.
Where Alem stands, the earth catches fire and starts to move and swallow him, like flaming quicksand.
“ALEM!” I scream in anguish. The chains won’t budge, no matter how strongly I pull them.
Reuel falls to his knees and covers his face with his hands in a convulsive cry.
“ALEM! Grab mommy’s hand!”
“I can’t!”
“TRY!”
He sinks increasingly with the snake sliding fluidly around his body, right in front of me, but I can’t reach him.
“Goodbye, Mother.” The murky and red sky obscures his face.
“No! Pull and throw yourself over here, come on! I’m trying, but I can’t! I can’t!”
“It’s okay,” he says, smiling softly. “I know you did everything you could.” And then he is swallowed completely by the flaming earth and disappears into the ground.
I wake up startled and with a strange feeling in my stomach. I can’t think of anything except the images and sounds of that nightmare. I get up and go to the bathroom. I remove my underpants and untie my bra, which falls to my feet. I climb in the shower and close the plastic doors, shutting myself in. I open the hot water tap and begin to sob. I take my hands to my mouth, trying to control myself, but I don’t succeed. My face dissolves in an anguished cry. I can’t stand it anymore. I sob and moan. I lean against the wall and let myself slide to the floor, drowned in my tears and deaf with my cries.