~ Chapter 2 ~
Encounters
Valeria Cruz strode into her bedroom and flicked on her radio. It was already old and scratched when she'd bought it at the pawn shop, but the static wasn't usually too bad, and besides, it was all they could afford. Listening to the pulsing Spanish disco music for a moment, she stood with her finger on the dial, deciding if the volume was low enough to keep from disturbing her grandmother in the next room. Finally convinced it was okay, she threw herself on the bed and stretched out her tall, lanky seventeen-year-old frame, pushing the flattened pillow into a wad under her long, straight black hair.
More bored than tired, Valeria rolled on her side and looked around the shabby little room. The torn curtains, the shredding carpet, once bright and garish, were now dulled with dirt and age, but at least the one awful painting in the room looked no worse hanging at an angle to cover a rather large hole in the wall.
Everything Valeria owned in the world could be stowed easily in the two tattered cardboard boxes she could see in the tiny door-less closet. Two or three articles of clothing strewn about the room practically emptied the one box, except for the hand-me-down winter coat she'd had since she was thirteen. Guess that makes it easy to move, she thought sardonically. Can be ready to go in five minutes. Maybe three. Heaven knows, I never get out of practice.She had lost count of the times she'd found a landlord, or even the fearful neighbors, standing with boxes in hand, those boxes, her weeping grandmother waiting on their current doorstep as she returned from school. The hurriedly packed boxes were then thrust at them as they were commanded to leave that place, leave that town, and take their evil with them.
# # #
"There they are!"
Susana, Valeria's newfound friend, waved to a group of girls approaching them.
There was no lack of young people in the sleepy little Spanish port town, just an overall lack of money. It was for this reason that Valeria actually felt a bit more comfortable here than in some of the other places they'd lived. She and her grandmother didn't have much less than anyone else in the little fishing village and almost everyone lived in the same type of tiny run-down bungalow as she did.
The group of girls swarmed around Susana as if they hadn't seen her in months, but Valeria knew it had only been since yesterday at school.
"Okay, everybody, this is Valeria. She'd appreciate it if everyone would stop calling her just 'the new girl' now. She does have a name. Right, Val?"
Susana looked to Valeria to confirm and Valeria just smiled shyly. Valeria wasn't good enough at 'reading' people after just a few weeks to know if Susana was really that nice and sensitive to her feelings, or if she just wanted to be the first one in town to find out all about 'the new girl'. In fact, Valeria wasn't certain why Susana had befriended her at all, just that Valeria found she wanted desperately to go along with it and feel as if she fit in with some people her own age for once.
After finishing introductions pleasantly, the group wandered back down the street toward the cinema, chatting among themselves.
Valeria's sudden dizziness took her by surprise. It caused her knee to wobble and she stepped off the sidewalk. Embarrassed, she glanced around the group quickly to see if anyone noticed. She acted as if nothing happened and pushed a nagging thought from her mind.
As they approached the cinema, Valeria's heart sank. She was working hard enough at making some new female friends, but it looked as if the girls had made arrangements to meet with a group of boys from school, as well. And in her life, in her mind, nothing had ever gone better because there was a boy, or boys, involved.
The dizziness returned. Valeria was trying hard to focus so she wouldn't faint or fall. Okay, she told herself, you're just nervous. It's been seven weeks now since the last time. It's nothing- it'll go away. This time she pushed hard against the feeling that was fighting to come through.
Susana stepped up to make introductions again, and Valeria only nodded her way through them, willing herself to act normal while she fought with the vertigo in her head. Please! she prayed, please let them think I'm okay, that I'm normal!
Introductions over, the now larger group began to filter through the single-file line at the entrance of the ancient theatre.
# # #
The dark quiet theatre and the rather dull old movie had calmed Valeria somewhat. When the entire group decided afterwards to head to a nearby café for a soda, she didn't even feel especially panicked. Sitting and sipping her soda, it was nice to listen to people gossiping and chattering happily, and even if she wasn't joining in much, at least she was being included-and for the moment, accepted.
Then, she sensed it. The dizziness came back with a renewed vengeance, bringing with it a wave of nausea that made her clutch suddenly at her middle.
No! her mind screamed as if her thoughts alone could resist it. No, leave me alone! It's not fair! She could feel the emotions pouring into her by themselves: the depression, the sadness, the hopelessness, the bleak and utter darkness. Valeria tried to push back, gasping for breath and struggling to maintain what would outwardly appear normal to the others.
Her vision blurred momentarily, then all turned a dull gray. The feelings were mounting like an enormous black tidal wave, gaining momentum and hurtling towards her. She could almost see at the wave crest the beings, the black hooded figures. One held out its gray scaly hand, as if ready to reach for her, ready to take her and sweep her with them, bending her will to theirs. She reached inside to the depths of herself and for a moment she believed she could still fend them off.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" she screamed at the top of her lungs, bolting upright out of the little café booth that was so far away from her battle inside.
The wave paused as if to taunt her, to terrorize her a little further. The black hooded figures turned as one to look down at her and she knew they would send her mind to search for the boy again, the black-haired boy with the scar.
She looked up into the hoods where faces should have been to see pain, and hopelessness, and the cold empty blackness. And it was then, only then, that Valeria realized she had fought her best fight, and she had lost. The black wave crashed over, and consumed her in darkness.
# # #
Late Revelations
Valeria forced herself to get up and dress for school. She collected her books and started on the short walk so she'd arrive before eight a.m. School and learning were two of the few things she actually enjoyed (although, like most people her age, she would never admit it), but it had been difficult- if not impossible- to keep up her studies with all of the moving from place to place.
Hoping that, miraculously, everything might be all right between herself and her new friends, Valeria began to notice with dismay the whispers from students walking behind her. Next came the giggles; not happy, fun laughter, but mean, vicious snickers. She did her best to ignore them, but it was already setting her nerves on edge. She'd been down this path too many times before.
As she walked, Valeria thought back to the cause of her problems. For as long as she could remember, she'd called the evil beings the 'Muertos', which meant 'the Dead Ones' in her first language of Spanish. They had never invaded her mind as often when she was very small, but it seemed like they had always been a part of her life.
With a mixture of sadness and anger, Valeria recalled the cruelest side of her 'blackouts', as she called them. After the darkness lightened some, and the evil beings were through with her for the moment, she had to live in and deal with the real world again. Her encounters with her tormentors were always so intense that it was impossible for her to be aware of the other world outside her mind-she never knew what she had said or done to others while she was with the Muertos.
But she had learned, painfully, that by the time she had 'returned', she found anyone nearby to be backing away from her, repulsed or frozen in horror from whatever they had just witnessed. Any progress she had made at being accepted or at making friends was turned upside down every time. Valeria feared the day her emotions would become too weak to cope with being cast out again, and she knew next time could be the point where she couldn't go on.
What Valeria did remember of the blackouts was the stuff of nightmares. Besides the terrifying way the beings always came to seize her, there were the distorted images and colors, grotesque faces in crowds of frightened people, the feeling that she was always about to be pushed into a bottomless chasm. There was the constant presence of the eerie green skull, a red snake writhing its way through the openings in its face; a vision she sensed meant evil in its purest and most complete form. In full consciousness, she would find herself drawing the skull with the snake, doodling mindlessly until she realized with horror what she had drawn. Curiosity made her wonder if she would ever see what evil the skull represented, and fear made her pray she would not. The only part of the episodes she was never afraid of-the only part she could manage to think about outside the blackouts, was the boy with the scar.
Occasionally, she tried to sort out why the Muertos wanted her to find him. One thing was perfectly clear: the beings had a plan for the boy, or were led by someone who did, and once found, they intended to do him serious harm. That gave her another reason to resist giving in to the evil- not only to save herself, but to keep from leading the black-haired boy to some terrible fate. Obviously, the boy had already endured some hardship in his life to have that disfiguring scar on his forehead, hiding under his unruly hair.
Yet below the surface of her thoughts was another idea: Who could say if the boy was even real? Perhaps he didn't exist, except to her. Besides, she had never successfully fought the Muertos off even to save herself-what made her believe she could do it for someone else? Maybe her mind was simply trying to cover for the fact that she was going crazy.
This last reason was beginning to make more and more sense as time went on, making her feel sad and helpless. The nagging doubt of her own sanity, reinforced by all the others who called her a lunatic, or possessed, or just evil, kept pulling her daily into deeper despair. The darkness it caused forced her ever closer to the evil beings, even when she wasn't completely under their control.
Valeria rounded the corner and approached the school grounds cautiously. She faked a cheerful smile as she walked up to Susana and the group surrounding her.
"Hi!" she chirped, hoping to sound lighthearted. It was the last word she ever said to them.
Susana turned to stare at her. The group that had been standing in a circle unwound to form a line, a solid blockade of bodies. Their eyes were trained on the outsider, surveying her intensely and willing her away. Valeria sensed no fear from this group, just revulsion and disgust. Not one of them moved an inch, but they shoved her from their lives with all of their might.
Valeria was determined they wouldn't see her cry. She backed away at first, trying in vain to stare them down, to make even one set of eyes look away and show some doubt. But the line remained resolute-they were strong together. After all, they had each other.
By the time she turned toward home at the end of the block, her face was wet with silent tears. Other people on the street stared at her as well-they knew, too. Her feet carried her more quickly with each step until she was running, as if she could escape.
Valeria burst through the door to the little bungalow, her chest heaving with suppressed sobs that she could no longer deny. Gasping for air, she forcefully threw her books on the floor, and struck out with her fists at nothing as if she could drive away the pain. The anger and frustration sapped the last bit of strength from her and she sank to her knees, crying out in pain and anguish like an injured animal who had lost its last ray of hope.
# # #
Valeria's grandmother came from the tiny bedroom with her rosary in her hand. Abuelita did not want to expect this, but she did. She knew prayers were not always answered in a time that people could understand; but if solely the strength and dedication of those praying had counted, Valeria would have been freed from her prison years before by her grandmother's devotion alone.
The only person in Valeria's entire life who had ever believed in her was Abuelita. Her grandmother had never doubted the existence of the horrors the girl saw during her blackouts, and was the only one Valeria had ever been able to confide in. Although it saddened her to see these things happen to her beloved granddaughter, Abuelita always blamed the neighbors, the kids, or the other townspeople, for being intolerant. After all, Valeria had never done anything to harm anyone else. It was only fear and ignorance that led people to believe their own cruelty was deserved.
More than Valeria herself, Abuelita knew her granddaughter was a worthy person- giving, kind and loving. Over the last few years, as the blackouts had intensified in their length and darkness, Abuelita realized that fear alone should have made Valeria bitter, vengeful, or rebellious. And yet she was not.
It was as if the old woman knew there was something invasive, something that was not born into Valeria that haunted her now. That was what ate at the young girl's sanity and her soul. Abuelita believed to her core that Valeria was blameless in it all.
Abuelita looked at the crumpled, sobbing mass on the floor that was Valeria. She moved to her quietly and gently took hold of Valeria's wrist, tugging her upward and toward the dilapidated sofa. Valeria's body, so drained of energy, yet still wracked with sobs, did nothing to resist.
The two sat without speaking on the couch for a while, Abuelita holding her granddaughter gingerly and rocking her as if Valeria were still an infant. The old woman waited patiently for the storm to subside. This time Abuelita was determined to tell her.
Valeria finally calmed somewhat and rested her head in her grandmother's lap, staring ahead blankly. Abuelita played with the girl's hair absent-mindedly.
"Hija," began Abuelita softly in her native Spanish. "Do not be upset again, but you need to think about what I've told you about your parents. There is a part I have always hoped I would never have to tell you." She paused, watching Valeria's lack of reaction; the girl was still numb. Abuelita took a deep breath, and began...
"You already know part of what happened that day during the Running of the Bulls. You were only two years old, so you and I stayed together inside the hotel room in Pamplona while your parents went out to the balcony to watch. We were playing a game, you and I, and I told you I did not see what happened. But the truth is is I did not want to see it. I never believed it would make a difference now."
Valeria was still lying down, facing away from her grandmother. But the older woman could tell the girl's body was more alert; she was listening more carefully now.
"Through the edge of the curtain I could see across the street. Strange people stood on another balcony there-foreigners who wore long robes of dark colors. A lot of tourists always come to see the Running. But the two men there were not watching; they were arguing with one another over something one of them held. The object was very shiny: it was glinting in the sunlight, and as I watched, it kept changing size and almost floated in the air. I could hear the bulls passing by then, and your parents voices came through the open balcony door, yelling and happy-excited. I looked across again and the bigger man pushed the one with the object down, then he disappeared from the balcony. A moment later, the bigger man came out on the street below, but he had the object then, only he acted like he was fighting to hold on to it."
"I told you that a fire started on the balcony where your parents were, that sparks must have blown from the fire across the street. Well, there was no wind that day. Your papa and mama and everyone else were looking far down the street by now after the bulls, so the men probably thought no one was watching. The man above stood up and held out a stick; it must have been a kind of weapon from their country. I saw his mouth move to say something and bright orange light and sparks flowed out the end of the stick at the man below. It startled the bigger man and he let go of the object, which started to float away. But he was more concerned with shooting back. He held out a stick and said something, too. Bright, green flashes of light began shooting all over towards the front of the building, hitting it and charring spots of stucco or starting fires.
Abuelita knew Valeria was listening intently now. The girl quietly put a hand to her face and wiped away some lingering teardrops.
"The crowd never noticed because the run was so loud and they were looking the other way. I saw many bright green flashes, some very nearby, and I realized that the man had been hitting the shiny object with his fire as it hovered in the air. The spinning, glinting object was bouncing the light and sparks off in all directions. Two or three of the light streams hit the balcony where your parents were. Pieces of the support beams broke off and exploded, then the whole balcony fell to the street, with your parents still on it. I turned back inside to find you, but you had slipped away. You neared the opening in the wall where the balcony had been, and I ran to grab you so you would not topple off the edge.
"When I got near, a long green stream of light and sparks bounced from somewhere outside right into your face. I saw the light go into your eyes and you cried out and fell back. When the light had stopped and I could get next to you, nothing on your face looked different. I was so relieved nothing had happened, because I already feared I had lost your parents. I found out later that was true."
Valeria was sitting up now, aghast, staring intently at her grandmother. But Abuelita pushed on, staring straight ahead. She was unable to face her granddaughter for fear she would stop again once she saw the hurt and fear on Valeria's face.
"Later, I noticed something was different-in your eyes. They looked bruised, as if the force of the light had blackened them. But the marks were strange-your eyes did not have dark purplish bruises around them, but green- many shades of green. And from deep in the pupils could be seen a tiny but brilliant green light, as if part of the light from the man's stick had been trapped inside of you. How it could be, I don't know, mi hija, but I have come to believe that may be what haunts you now."
Valeria sat motionless, feeling as if she was living proof that lightning did indeed strike twice in the same place. There were no more tears to cry. She had thought of it before, but the courage she needed had evaded her. Abuelita's confession had told her it was time, and she knew what she had to do.
