that, but I’ve asked him...”
“Dad!”
“Please, let me finish. I don’t really believe in a lot of this either, despite being a man of faith. Padre Salas himself wouldn’t have accepted to follow up on this if it weren’t for the friendship we have, and he knows I’m not a man who goes around spouting nonsense. He listened carefully to me ...”
“And what did he tell you?”
“He told me that he couldn’t make a valuable judgement without talking to you, visiting the house, and going into Laura’s room... But, from what he said to me... it’s highly possible that my granddaughter could have been possessed by the Devil...”
The conflict began to rage once more deep down within Carlos. On the one hand, his rational self was rebelling against these hypotheses; but on the other, his heart was making him continue listening to his father, and give this man who only wanted to help him an opportunity.
“So what should I do now then?” he asked, throwing in the towel.
A slight smile appeared on Esteban’s face, although he contained his joy; he was not going to risk irking his son now that he had opened up the opportunity to lend him a hand.
“He just wants to see you, and speak with you. If possible, he’d like it if it could be on Saturday night, at the Community Mass.”
“I have no intention of going to the Mass, you know that.”
His father knew well that, for all he had tried and insisted on the fact that not everyone in the Community was, or indeed needed to be, a firm believer, he had never managed to get Carlos to even come near the church.
“There’s no need for you to come in with us. You can wait outside. But after the mass, he wants to have a meeting with you there, near the altar.”
“I don’t understand,” said Carlos, on the defensive.
“Padre Salas says that there, the Devil has no power, and can’t even get close to you, because otherwise, being away from such protection, the other world can cloud your words or your own mind. The least he wants is for the first version that you give him to be free from any influence that’s... external...”
Carlos could not suppress a chuckle as, in spite of his cursed state, he was finding it somewhat humorous. In all truth, he was already beginning to long for the meeting with this man who would surely listen to him attentively, and perhaps he would have answers to what he was hearing from his daughter. He was not losing anything by receiving Padre Salas’ help, just as he wasn’t losing anything by receiving Elena’s.
“Alright, I’ll go and see him. On Saturday, I’ll come with you to the Mass.”
His father could not help but give him a hearty hug. A hug that was not so much to comfort his son, as it was to give himself encouragement. God was presenting tests that were proving too difficult lately, and he was going to need all the power of his beliefs to not lose hope. He chose his following words very carefully, and not knowing if they were true, or merely the beginnings of an incipient and mutually shared insanity:
“Have confidence, Carlos. If it’s true that Laura is in Hell, I assure you that she’s going to have a whole load of people willing to fight to get her out of there.”
XXIX
Elena slept closely to him, peaceful, and almost motionless. She had been at his house now for close to a week, and nothing had happened. He was waiting in a heightened state of extreme agitation and expectation for the day that damned radio-alarm clock would begin to emit that horrible sound, and the dial would begin searching independently through the frequencies, followed by the anguished voice of his daughter asking for help.
‘Nothing’s happening.’
If that were the case; if nothing happened over the next few days, it would be, for him, the definitive and irrefutable confirmation that reason had prevailed, and everything would be put down to a dirty trick played on him by his own desperate mind. If that were the case,
“Dad!”
“Please, let me finish. I don’t really believe in a lot of this either, despite being a man of faith. Padre Salas himself wouldn’t have accepted to follow up on this if it weren’t for the friendship we have, and he knows I’m not a man who goes around spouting nonsense. He listened carefully to me ...”
“And what did he tell you?”
“He told me that he couldn’t make a valuable judgement without talking to you, visiting the house, and going into Laura’s room... But, from what he said to me... it’s highly possible that my granddaughter could have been possessed by the Devil...”
The conflict began to rage once more deep down within Carlos. On the one hand, his rational self was rebelling against these hypotheses; but on the other, his heart was making him continue listening to his father, and give this man who only wanted to help him an opportunity.
“So what should I do now then?” he asked, throwing in the towel.
A slight smile appeared on Esteban’s face, although he contained his joy; he was not going to risk irking his son now that he had opened up the opportunity to lend him a hand.
“He just wants to see you, and speak with you. If possible, he’d like it if it could be on Saturday night, at the Community Mass.”
“I have no intention of going to the Mass, you know that.”
His father knew well that, for all he had tried and insisted on the fact that not everyone in the Community was, or indeed needed to be, a firm believer, he had never managed to get Carlos to even come near the church.
“There’s no need for you to come in with us. You can wait outside. But after the mass, he wants to have a meeting with you there, near the altar.”
“I don’t understand,” said Carlos, on the defensive.
“Padre Salas says that there, the Devil has no power, and can’t even get close to you, because otherwise, being away from such protection, the other world can cloud your words or your own mind. The least he wants is for the first version that you give him to be free from any influence that’s... external...”
Carlos could not suppress a chuckle as, in spite of his cursed state, he was finding it somewhat humorous. In all truth, he was already beginning to long for the meeting with this man who would surely listen to him attentively, and perhaps he would have answers to what he was hearing from his daughter. He was not losing anything by receiving Padre Salas’ help, just as he wasn’t losing anything by receiving Elena’s.
“Alright, I’ll go and see him. On Saturday, I’ll come with you to the Mass.”
His father could not help but give him a hearty hug. A hug that was not so much to comfort his son, as it was to give himself encouragement. God was presenting tests that were proving too difficult lately, and he was going to need all the power of his beliefs to not lose hope. He chose his following words very carefully, and not knowing if they were true, or merely the beginnings of an incipient and mutually shared insanity:
“Have confidence, Carlos. If it’s true that Laura is in Hell, I assure you that she’s going to have a whole load of people willing to fight to get her out of there.”
XXIX
Elena slept closely to him, peaceful, and almost motionless. She had been at his house now for close to a week, and nothing had happened. He was waiting in a heightened state of extreme agitation and expectation for the day that damned radio-alarm clock would begin to emit that horrible sound, and the dial would begin searching independently through the frequencies, followed by the anguished voice of his daughter asking for help.
‘Nothing’s happening.’
If that were the case; if nothing happened over the next few days, it would be, for him, the definitive and irrefutable confirmation that reason had prevailed, and everything would be put down to a dirty trick played on him by his own desperate mind. If that were the case,
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