The First Circle

by Paul Perea

Mancha bowed her head and wept.

  “It is time,” Magdalena said as she put her arm around Mancha.

  “You’re right, but before we give ourselves to the light, let us remember to honor our dear friend’s life. The world will never know our beautiful Gabriella . . . what she did for her loved ones . . . the sacrifice she made,” Mancha said as she lovingly touched Magdalena’s cheek.

  From within the house, music emanated. Mozart’s Requiem. It swelled and washed over them as they huddled together to pay respect to the girl they had come to love.

  Maria wiped the tears from her eyes, “Oh, my poor little bug, how I wish we could have pulled her from that purgatory, at least to deliver her body to her family—to give her a proper burial.”

  Magdalena squeezed her sister’s hand. “Our magic is spent, Maria. We all agreed to it. We sacrificed almost all of our power to ensure that the athame would contain our very essence. Our love, our magic, all of it was needed to destroy the beast.”

  “A new day approaches and soon we will join our ancestors. I welcome the peace. I am so tired,” Mancha said, and watched as a ribbon of light appeared on the crest of the mountains. “Look sisters. Look how beautiful the dawn, how beautiful the world.”

  They stood, each lost in thought, as they reflected on their lives and the life of their friend, their daughter, their Gabriella. The sun conquered the mighty mountain range in exquisite radiance, and in that first light, Mancha, Maria and Magdalena, holding each other’s hands, and with tears in their eyes, vanished.

  EPILOGUE

  San Francisco, California

  Amanda hurried down the stairs as the visitor impatiently rang the doorbell. She turned on the light and opened the door to find Helena standing with a cab driver, each holding a baby in their arms. The look on Helena’s face frightened Amanda and she called out to Daniel.

  “Pay the driver, son,” Helena ordered as Daniel came bounding to greet her. She handed a child to Amanda and took the other baby from the man, who waited patiently for payment.

  “Mother, what’s going on? Whose babies are these?” he asked as he fished money out of his wallet and placed it in the waiting hand.

  The driver studied the amount to ensure a handsome tip was included. Satisfied, he turned and left, not bothering to say “thank you” or to close the door behind him.

  Daniel watched as his mother walked toward the living room and gently set the sleeping child down on the sofa. Amanda followed suit.

  “Amanda, would you get me a whiskey?” Helena asked.

  Amanda nodded and without a word quickly left the room. She didn’t ask if the children needed anything. She simply headed toward the back of the flat to the kitchen, leaving her mother-in-law and husband alone with the two little strangers. Tears filled her eyes as she accepted what was unfolding in her home. Her suspicions of the past summer were now confirmed. She could see the resemblance and knew that the children were Daniel’s.

  Daniel was shaken by his mother’s appearance but more so by the two babies. His mouth was dry and his heart raced as he anticipated what he already knew would be said. His world was about to come crashing down around him.

  “Daniel, these are your children,” Helena said, her voice quivering with emotion. “Son, I must put things right, so please hear me out. You know that I failed your father, miserably I might add, but then again I was never much for being a wife. As for you, I suppose I wasn’t a great mother either.”

  She looked at him and then at the two children, who squirmed but continued to slumber. “But I will be damned if I fail my grandchildren!”

  “How long have you known? My God, no one told me, not even her!”

  “I’ve known since before they were born, but I kept it from you—for the wrong reasons. I know I was wrong and nothing I can say can change the past. Whether or not you forgive me is up to you, but you must know that what I do now, I do to set things right. I’m not asking you to absolve me of my sins but I am asking for understanding and forgiveness.”

  Daniel couldn’t believe his ears. He ran his hands through his hair as if the motion would clear his head from the questions running through his mind. After all this time, she knew and never told him. She allowed him to go on with his life and to marry. The anger toward his mother surfaced.

  “How could you? You’ve done some horrible things in the past, but never anything like this! Keeping this information from me! Did Dad even know . . . and what of Gabriella? Did you do something to keep her from telling me?”

  “Your father doesn’t know. As for Gabriella, I never did anything to make her stay silent, and that is the truth. She made that decision on her own. She knew you didn’t love her.”

  “But I did love her! I do love her. I’ve always loved her! But you, you convinced me, no, you told me—” Daniel stammered, his rage mixed with broken-hearted emotion. “How did you arrange this? Why now? I can’t believe that Gabriella would allow you to take them away from her and bring them to me!”

  Helena’s eyes flooded with tears and the words came fast on their heels. “Daniel, Gabriella is dead.”

  The words stung. Daniel sank down on the floor in front of his mother and searched her face for some kind of sign that she was lying. Instead, he saw only truth.

  “She’s dead, Daniel. She died saving her children. She saved them from a horrible man, a monster. I saw it all. And Gabriella . . . Gabriella told me to take them, to save them—” Helena grappled with the memory as confusion set in, and then the recollection of all that she had witnessed was lost.

  “I . . . it’s such a blur now. I took the children and ran. I ran to my car and then drove as fast as I could to Grace’s house. Grace told me to bring the children to you. The family had disowned her. They were ashamed of Gabriella and wanted nothing to do with her or her children. Grace told me to make sure the children never return!”

  Daniel had never seen his mother so upset. He put his arms around her, and together they wept.

  “They are mine—my children. I’m their father,” he cried.

  As he held his mother, a sensation washed over him, easing his mind from questions or worry. The room spun around. For a moment everything blurred together and then he regained his senses as a thought took hold. He would do everything in his power to protect his children. They would never know their mother’s family. They would never know Arroyo. They would never know Gabriella.

  Daniel released his mother and looked at the slumbering infants. He bent down and gave them each a soft kiss, careful not to wake them.

  “What are their names?” he asked quietly.

  “Gabriella named your daughter Blanca. And the boy—” Helena answered, and then paused for a moment to collect herself, “She named the boy, Martine.”

  “My middle name,” Daniel whispered as he sank to his knees and wept uncontrollably. “Oh, Gabriella my love. What did I do to you?”

  EPILOGUE II

  Arroyo, New Mexico

  A lone hooded figure made its way silently across the sand, moving tentatively but with a sense of direction until the exact destination was reached. The light of the waning moon was reflected in the dark water, shimmering and distorted. The river flowed slowly and silently as it meandered along the wooded valley. There were no sounds—as if it was not allowed—as if every creature dare not disturb the silence.

  Salome knelt down on the cold, wet sand and placed the large book on the ground. She opened it, the page marked, and held her arms up to the sky, her exposed skin stark white in the bright moonlight. She began a chant. The chant was rhythmic, repeated over and over, until it was almost a hum. Still, no creature, not even the wind, dared to answer, except for a single sound, faint at first but growing louder as it neared.

  The cry surrounded her as it echoed through the trees and over the water. Salome moved her arms slowly downward until they were outs
tretched and parallel to the water. Palms down, her chant grew faster and the cry became louder.

  A disturbance erupted in the middle of the river as something approached from below the surface. A light emanated as the portal opened, and the moon’s reflection was replaced by a white figure, the face of a beautiful young woman staring up to the heavens.

  Gabriella passed through the portal and cut through the water like a gleaming sword, sharp and unblemished, her white dress shimmering under the full moonlight. Gabriella alighted on the water like a fairy tiptoeing across a wet floor. She moved gracefully toward Salome with no menace or aggression and stopped in front of her.

  With tears streaming down her pale, ghostly face, Gabriella asked, “Who are you?”

  “It’s me . . . your aunt . . . Salome,” Salome answered, her voice shaking in fright.

  Gabriella looked at Salome with confusion and asked, “Where are my children?”

  Gabriella issued an unearthly cry, the sound so loud and pitiful that it filled the entire bosque. It shook the trees and sent night birds into the sky. Her cry was part pain, part madness, and only the river in its never-ending journey, dared to answer as it softly lapped at the sandy shore.

  Salome had never been as afraid as she was at this moment. She looked into Gabriella’s eyes. There was no glimmer of recognition, only madness. Salome stood up to face the apparition, and the movement caused Gabriella to change her appearance, her visage becoming that of a decaying old crone with rotting teeth and worms in her hair.

  Again she cried out, “Tell me where my children are or I will kill you! I hear them crying. They won’t stop! I’ve looked under the water . . . I’ve looked everywhere! Tell me what you know before I drag you down to your death!”

  With tears on her face, Salome reached her hands out to touch Gabriella, who hovered in front of her.

  “Gabriella, this is not you. Show me your true self,” Salome commanded. Her throat was dry from fear, but her tone was sharp. “Listen to me, you are my niece! It’s me, your Aunt Salome! I’m here to help you!”

  Gabriella cocked her head to one side as if she were hearing the name for the first time, and then in a flash her face returned to that of a beautiful young woman. She drew back, suspended in mid-air, and then moved closer to examine the visitor. Finally, she smiled at Salome. Then just as quickly, her lips began to quiver and she started to weep.

  “Oh, Auntie, I’m scared. Please help me! I don’t remember what happened. Am I dead?”

  Before Salome could answer, Gabriella looked wildly about as panic overcame her. She spun around, looking for something, for someone. She appeared to stop and listen, straining to hear a sound that was not there. Then she looked back at Salome with madness in her eyes.

  “A man approaches! He comes for me—he comes for us! Oh my babies! Where are my children? I think he means to kill them. But where are they?”

  The recognition that had been present on Gabriella’s face was replaced once again by confusion and anger. She cried out, a mournful sound that echoed across the river. Then, with all the force she could muster, Gabriella attacked. She grabbed Salome and pulled her close, wrapping her arms around her as spirits rose from the river and joined Gabriella in the capture.

  Salome screamed as she was pulled beneath the water. She looked up at the surface and could still see the moon high in the sky. From below the water, it swayed and bounced like a great white sphere. And for a moment, it seemed to transform, replaced by the image of a woman’s face, Gabriella’s face, accusatory and filled with rage.

  Water filled Salome’s lungs, burning them as she fought to break free. Salome was losing consciousness. She was drowning. And just as she was about to black out, she opened her eyes once more as the image changed again. Salome found herself looking up at the face of a man—a man with the bluest eyes she had ever seen.