by Paul Perea
Gabriella felt the air in the room evaporate and the walls closed in. Suffocating, stifling, and torturous. She turned her back to Daniel and gasped for air. “Please go away. Leave me alone.”
“Gabi, we need to talk,” Daniel whispered, pleading and sincere.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Gabriella answered. She turned around to face him, the anger rising and breaking her words. “Here? Now? Of all places you want to talk to me. You’ve got some nerve! The last thing I want to do right now is see you, much less talk to you. I’m asking you to leave!”
Daniel looked around nervously, ignoring the request. “Gabriella, I’m sorry. Really I am. I never meant to hurt you. Come on, let me talk to you. These last few days have been killing me.”
“Oh, really? Poor you. What do you think I’ve been going through!”
Gabriella turned and walked away, moving through the mourners, ignoring their words and brushing off their arms as they reached out to hug and console her. Finding her mother, she bent down and whispered to her, explaining her distress, her determination to leave, her need to be alone, and Ruth granted Gabriella’s request. With a brief kiss on the cheek, Gabriella left her mother and slipped away through the back door, unnoticed by all but one.
Gabriella was conflicted as she walked the familiar road towards home. She had spent days in mourning, devastated by the loss of her grandmother, but that was not all she mourned. Her feelings for Daniel. Her shame. Her sin. All of it she mourned but there was no one she could talk to, save for Selma. Would Selma tell her it wasn’t her fault? Would Selma explain that that’s how it works? Is this what sex is? And if it is, then why did she hate Daniel for it, for what he did to her? Worse, why did she find that deep down she still loved him, too.
Love turned to hate turned to love. It folded over and over again in her heart and in her head.
Watching the sun become an orange thread on the horizon, Gabriella sighed and wondered what to do next. Everything had changed. Her life had been turned upside down and even her second sight could not tell her what was to come. Gabriella no longer saw a future, at least the future she had envisioned. And the cold dark house that stood before her held no comfort. As she took a step onto the porch she was interrupted by the sound of racing footfalls on the dirt road.
“Gabriella, wait. Please!” Daniel called out through heavy gasps for breath.
Stunned by the sight, Gabriella tensed and stood mute, unable to move. She watched as Daniel stopped several feet away, bent, his hands resting on his knees as he fought to catch his breath.
“I told you to leave me alone,” Gabriella stammered.
“Just hear me out,” Daniel asked breathlessly. “Please. Let me talk, just for a bit, and then I’ll leave. I promise!”
“Alright. Go ahead but make it fast. My mom and dad will be home soon,” Gabriella lied, hoping that the thought of her parents returning would dissuade him from remaining too long.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Daniel said as he stood scanning the sky, and searching for the right words. “First of all, I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I forced you to do something you didn’t want to do. But it wasn’t my . . . I never intended to . . . damn it, it’s not how I wanted you. It wasn’t me, Gabi! I mean, it was me but it wasn’t. I’ve never behaved that way. Never! I don’t know what came over me. It’s like sometimes I’m not in control of myself. It’s like someone else is making me do things and I’m watching from outside of myself. I know it sounds crazy but I don’t know how else to explain it.”
Gabriella watched his face as he spoke. The conflict, the sincerity, it was all there. But there was something else, too. She didn’t know what it was but she could sense it, and it frightened her. “Okay, you said what you had to say. Now will you please go.”
“Gabi, won’t you forgive me?”
“I’ll think about what you said and maybe we can talk tomorrow. Good night,” Gabriella answered dismissively as she turned towards the door. To her surprise, Daniel was fast upon her.
“Come on. I’m dying here. Please say you forgive me. Besides, you seem like you need some company. We haven’t even talked about how you’re feeling . . . about your grandma . . . about us.”
Ignoring him, Gabriella turned away and fumbled with the door knob but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back forcefully.
“Ow, that hurts!” Gabriella cried.
Holding her in his strong arms, he pressed his body against hers, feeling her breasts against his chest, heaving with each breath. His excitement grew, his smile faded, and his face was intense and filled with determination.
“Let’s go inside,” he demanded through clenched teeth as he tightened his grip and savagely kissed her neck.
This isn’t happening! I won’t let him hurt me! Gabriella searched her mind for a spell that would blast him across the yard, and was prepared to do just that when two figures rose from the sand.
She watched as Maria and Magdalena appeared and took hold of Daniel. As Daniel struggled to break free of their preternaturally strong grip, a large crow landed in the yard and transformed. Mancha strode toward the group with intensity in her eyes. Without hesitation, she took Daniel’s face in her long slender hands and turned his head this way and that, studying him.
“You’re in there, aren’t you,” Mancha asked, staring into Daniel’s eyes. “It’s unbecoming of you to hide from me like a coward. Show yourself.”
“Wretched woman! Go away before I kill you,” Daniel demanded in a voice that was not his own. His gaze fixed on Gabriella, and for a brief moment his large brown eyes flashed blue as he grimaced and struggled.
“Ah, Gabriella, my love,” he said, and licked his lips. “Help me. Get these hags away from me.”
Mancha turned to Gabriella, who stood frightened and overwhelmed by what was transpiring. “Gabriella, go into the house and fetch me a very large knife. Now!”
Without hesitation, Gabriella obeyed and ran into the house and grabbed a knife, quickly returning and delivering it into Mancha’s waiting hand.
“Listen to me, devil,” Mancha seethed, “I have no qualms about killing this boy while you reside in him. He means nothing to me and his death will deliver your spirit to the pit. A few words, a simple incantation, and we will be done with you once and for all!”
Mancha held the knife to Daniel’s throat, pushing the tip of the blade into his neck and drawing a spot of blood that pooled onto his skin in a bright red bead. It trailed down his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt.
“Stop this!” Gabriella cried out, but her plea was ignored.
“I’ll give you one more chance to vacate this human. Leave now and live to face me another day. Stay, and you die. Your choice,” Mancha said with conviction as her grip on the knife strengthened.
Daniel spat at her and then his body slumped to the ground, unconscious.
“What happened to him? What did you do?” Gabriella screamed.
“Silence!” Mancha ordered. “Sisters, quickly, take my hands and form a circle around this boy.”
Maria and Magdalena complied with the request, knowing what was to come.
“Hecate, goddess of the crossroads and mother of angels, hear me,” Mancha sang out in an old language. “Release the binds that hold this boy and replace them with your protection.”
Mancha turned and looked at Gabriella. “Please fetch a towel and a bandage for his wound!”
As Gabriella ran back into the house, Mancha, Maria and Magdalena continued with their spell. “Hecate. I beseech thee. Come to your devoted daughters. Cover this boy’s eyes with soft kisses and bestow upon him the sweet gift of forgetfulness,” Mancha whispered as a shadow passed, entered the circle and granted her request.
“We give thee thanks, great goddess. Blessed be,” Mancha said and bowed her head as Dani
el roused.
Gabriella returned in time to see Daniel attempting to stand up. The women were nowhere to be seen.
“What happened? Did I faint,” he asked.
“Yes,” Gabriella replied, struggling to make sense of it all and searching her mind for a lie. “One minute we were talking and then the next thing I knew you fell down.”
“What’s with all that?”
“You hurt yourself when you fell. I was going to clean up the cut on your neck and bandage it.”
“Cut?” he asked and touched his neck, “I don’t remember anything but I feel like I was hit with a ton of bricks.”
“Maybe you should go home and get some rest. We can talk tomorrow,” Gabriella suggested as she dabbed the wound and applied a bandage. “You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”
Daniel reluctantly agreed and turned to leave. He didn’t argue or utter any apologies. He simply pushed his hands deep into his pants pockets and walked away, bewildered and confused.
Gabriella watched until she lost sight of him and then noticed the three crows that rested on the roof of the house, studying her with their beady black eyes.
“Mancha? Maria? Magdalena?”
The large black birds stretched out their wings and flew upward, swooping over Gabriella and landing directly behind her. As they did so, each took human form. The change was graceful, yet happened quickly as the feathers melded into fine clothing, their faces emerged from the dark plumage, and their feet quietly kissed the ground as they touched down.
The look of amazement on Gabriella’s face caused Mancha to laugh again. “What’s wrong, my dear? Cat got your tongue?”
“No, I mean, um, I . . .” Gabriella stuttered, “I’ve never met a shape-shifter before. That was wonderful!”
“Not every witch can do it, you know, but Mirabella was an expert. Let’s see, as I recall her favorite form was a gray wolf. You probably don’t know this but your grandmother hated to fly, so the form of a bird was usually out of the question.”
“Except for that one time. Remember, Mancha? Remember when—”
“Oh, shut up, Maria!” Mancha scolded and shook her head as she pulled at the cuffs of her sleeves in order to straighten them out.
“What in the world did you do to Daniel?” Gabriella asked.
“We freed him from possession,” Mancha said as she took Gabriella by the hand and led her towards the house. “But he is still in danger, as are you. Eyes open, girl!”
“Possession? Danger? Please, I don’t understand what’s happening!” Gabriella said, panicked and confused.
Mancha reached for the door and then stopped and cocked her head. She turned her head slightly and her sisters acknowledged her shared thought.
“We must take our leave as your parents will be home soon. Go inside and do your best to sleep tight. You’re safe, for now. Come to us tomorrow night—to Mirabella’s home. We will share with you what we know and then you will understand the danger you and your beau face.”
CHAPTER 29
Going to her grandmother’s home would be out of the question as far as her parents would be concerned, so she lied. She told them she was going to visit Selma. Even so, it wasn’t easy to convince her parents to allow her to leave, especially so soon after the funeral, but Gabriella eventually won the argument and was now on her way. Night was approaching and she walked briskly, filled with dread by the thought of what the three sisters might have to share with her.
She took a familiar shortcut along an irrigation ditch that was overgrown on both sides with weeds, cactus and small sagebrush. Gabriella slowed her pace, aware that one misstep could send her tumbling into the shallow ditch—or worse, into prickly cactus or thorny shrubs. If she fell, she could also be bitten by the large red ants that built their sandy pyramids along the sides of the ditch. That had happened to her once when she was a child, and the memory of the pain was enough to hamper her speed.
Once she reached a bend in the narrow ditch, she jumped across to the other side and headed through a neighbor’s orchard, avoiding the cemetery. One thing she had inherited from her grandmother was a fear of the dark—and a dark cemetery was even scarier. A half-run brought her to the end of the orchard where she deftly climbed over a rickety fence and back onto the dirt road leading to Mirabella’s house.
She reached the house and pulled open the squeaky gate, walking quickly through the courtyard toward the door. The large cottonwood tree in front of the house stood in its usual ominous posture—its large arms ready to snatch her up. The darkness, thick and claustrophobic, contributed to her fear and she shuddered as a wave of panic came over her. She shut her eyes tight and wished for light. Suddenly, there was light from within the house. The curtains illuminated in a comforting warm hue and she opened the door quickly and closed it behind her just as fast.
“So much for bravery,” she said aloud and chuckled nervously.
The house was uncharacteristically void of life. Everything looked the same—everything in its proper place, clean and orderly—but the familiar sounds and smells were gone. She had not visited since before the funeral and found it much more unsettling than she had expected. The house stood as a testament to the fact that Mirabella was indeed gone forever.
Gabriella walked around the room, careful not to touch anything, feeling uneasy about even sitting down. She looked in the kitchen. On the counter sat a glass, perhaps a glass that Mirabella had used and then rinsed out, left to air-dry. She turned and looked at the barren kitchen table, another sign that Mirabella was truly gone. How many times had they sat at this table together, making tortillas, cookies, or stringing chili peppers into ristras?
Gabriella choked back tears and walked down the hall to Mirabella’s bedroom. The bed was perfectly made, of course. Her grandmother had been fastidious and neat, and Gabriella could not recall a time when the bedding was left tangled in disarray. The downy pillows were fluffed, and Mirabella’s white cotton quilt, with the little tufts of frayed cotton where the squares intersected, was crisply tucked in.
She remembered being a little girl, when she would lie on her stomach and play with those balls of fluff as Mirabella read to her and rubbed her back until she got sleepy. Then Mirabella would pull her close and cuddle her, continuing with the story until she was fast asleep. Safe and secure in grandma’s arms.
Lost in her memories, Gabriella walked out of the room into the darkened hallway. Thoughts of Mirabella and happier times were immediately displaced by the sight of a large, amorphous figure standing at the end of the hallway. The creature filled the space and looked at her with glowing red eyes, its mouth open, revealing long, sharp, yellow teeth. Saliva dripped from its mouth and pooled onto the floor underneath its massive body. It emanated a low guttural sound, causing every hair on Gabriella’s body to stand on end.
Without warning, the creature rushed toward her in fast strides, not running, but with a determined march that conveyed Gabriella was its intended target. She screamed and searched her mind for a way out of the attack, but before she could act, the brute seized her and lifted her toward its ghastly face. She screamed again and closed her eyes tight, readying herself for something horrible to happen.
To her surprise, the thing released her and she fell to the floor with a hard thud. Her heart was racing and her back hurt as she scurried away on her elbows and heels. She didn’t take her eyes off of the monster, which stood heaving with each breath, studying her. A slight tremor caused the pictures on the wall to fall to the floor as Gabriella focused, preparing to blast the thing with a psychic push. Just then, she heard a familiar voice and watched as the thing transformed.
“If that’s the way you protect yourself, then we have our work cut out for us! Get on your feet, girl!” Mancha commanded. “You are woefully unprepared!”
“What? How?” Gabriella muttered.
�
��The ‘what’, my dear, is us beginning your instruction.”
Gabriella could make out the caustic tone of Magdalena as she emerged from the wall, a chameleon shedding one appearance for another.
“And the ‘how’ is a family secret,” Maria called out cheerfully from the bedroom as she stepped through Mirabella’s dressing mirror. “Oh, my poor little bug.”
“Good thing this little bug wasn’t squashed underfoot!” Magdalena joked.
Maria and Magdalena laughed, but Mancha didn’t join in. She stood with her hands on her hips, a look of disappointment on her face. She extended a hand to Gabriella, who took it reluctantly, and helped her to her feet.
“Gabriella, you must be on guard,” Mancha said, gesturing dramatically as she spoke. “Why, I even gave you a chance to redeem yourself and all you did was cause the pictures to fall from the walls!”
Mancha’s exasperation reduced Gabriella to a struggling child. She knew she didn’t use her power to the degree that she could. But she rarely felt a need to do so, and at times had been so overwhelmed by Mirabella’s instruction that she found relief in the usual day-to-day life of a teenager.
“Ah, but you are not a normal teenage girl and your mind is so easy to read. Tell me, do you know how to block your thoughts and continue to function normally?” Mancha asked.
Gabriella nodded but was still at a loss for words.
“Then do it now, girl! The monster lurks close by and we can’t have him gaining any more knowledge of our plans.”
Gabriella shivered as gooseflesh covered her body. “Mancha, you’re scaring me. What monster?”
Maria interrupted before Mancha could answer. “He is the chill that just ran down your spine. He is the creature that hides under the bed at night. The people in your village think he is the devil. The Man of the Bosque. The great dog that follows them through the woods and tears their throats out.
“In your case, he was the kindly grandfather who waited in the shadows until your parents had gone to sleep. He sat and held you in his lap and told you stories of conquistadores and fairies, and filled your head with mythology when you were a little girl.”