there would be no room for doubt: he would be a madman, tormented by the death of his wife and young daughter.
XXX
Elena had now spent nearly ten days at the house, without a single anomalous or inexplicable event occurring. In spite of everything, her activity was frenetic during the afternoons and on weekends (her free time), and she was always going around from here to there: taking measurements, thinking as she observed the walls, jotting things down in a small black notebook, speaking on the phone with different people...
“What do you think?” Carlos asked.
She looked at him, returning from the place in which her meditations had her trapped and distanced from reality.
“That what I think...”
“Okay, perhaps you’re beginning to doubt...”
“Look, Carlos. There is something strange in this house; I’m noticing it. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something. Worst case scenario, it’s a neighbour who snores, or steals clothes off the line,” she joked.
He laughed, but it was a laugh that was almost devoid of any humour. Time was passing by, and things weren’t going anywhere. And the worst thing of all is that he had now also lost contact with Laura. Even though he hated that cursed device; even though he hated that terrible sound, it was still followed by the voice of his daughter, and with that voice came the amazing possibility of meeting her again in some form.
“Are you going to see Padre Salas tomorrow?”
“Yes... and I’m not relishing the prospect all that much. I’m doing it for my father; I’m doing it because the poor man wants to help me, and I didn’t know how to tell him no.”
Elena got up from the table where she had been occupied with some papers, and approached him, with a firm and decided expression.
“You know, Carlos... There are times when I think that the only person who doesn’t believe your story is you...”
Carlos looked at her, confused and somewhat put out.
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Look... Marta called me, your father has always been by your side, and has even brought in a third person, and I myself have been here for ten days, and haven’t doubted your word at any moment...”
Carlos remained immersed in a profound silence, until he asked her, almost as if asking for help:
“And what do you think I should do?”
“At the moment... you need to change your attitude and start to really collaborate. Talk to me, be honest in your answers, go to see Padre Salas with absolute confidence, investigate...”
“Investigate?”
“Yes. For example, up until now, you haven’t given me a single detail regarding your wife: what she knew, to what extent she thought that Laura was insane, or had been possessed...”
“But I’ve already told you that she and I didn’t...”
“And your wife, didn’t she have any female friends?”
He thought for a few minutes, thinking.
“Well, Alicia only had one friend who you could call a real friend. Her name is Ana, and she’s an architect.”
“Have you ever spoken with her? And if so, what did she say to you?”
“I only spoke with her once... after the death...”
“Okay, then you’ll have to go and talk to her again.”
This brave and resolute woman took him by surprise. As the days went by, he admired more and more her spirit and vitality, and he was glad to be sharing with her everything that was happening. He was glad that Marta had recommended trusting in her.
XXXI
It was Saturday morning, and he had decided to go for a long drive to occupy his mind, and try to make the minutes pass by as quickly as possible. A kind of anxiety overcame him about his interview with Padre Salas that very same night.
‘I don’t understand why the hell I’m so nervous.’
At the traffic lights, he could see how, in the cars all around him, people were making the most of the first hours of the day to go out unobstructed and enjoy the weekend. That type of lifestyle seemed so far away now,
XXX
Elena had now spent nearly ten days at the house, without a single anomalous or inexplicable event occurring. In spite of everything, her activity was frenetic during the afternoons and on weekends (her free time), and she was always going around from here to there: taking measurements, thinking as she observed the walls, jotting things down in a small black notebook, speaking on the phone with different people...
“What do you think?” Carlos asked.
She looked at him, returning from the place in which her meditations had her trapped and distanced from reality.
“That what I think...”
“Okay, perhaps you’re beginning to doubt...”
“Look, Carlos. There is something strange in this house; I’m noticing it. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something. Worst case scenario, it’s a neighbour who snores, or steals clothes off the line,” she joked.
He laughed, but it was a laugh that was almost devoid of any humour. Time was passing by, and things weren’t going anywhere. And the worst thing of all is that he had now also lost contact with Laura. Even though he hated that cursed device; even though he hated that terrible sound, it was still followed by the voice of his daughter, and with that voice came the amazing possibility of meeting her again in some form.
“Are you going to see Padre Salas tomorrow?”
“Yes... and I’m not relishing the prospect all that much. I’m doing it for my father; I’m doing it because the poor man wants to help me, and I didn’t know how to tell him no.”
Elena got up from the table where she had been occupied with some papers, and approached him, with a firm and decided expression.
“You know, Carlos... There are times when I think that the only person who doesn’t believe your story is you...”
Carlos looked at her, confused and somewhat put out.
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Look... Marta called me, your father has always been by your side, and has even brought in a third person, and I myself have been here for ten days, and haven’t doubted your word at any moment...”
Carlos remained immersed in a profound silence, until he asked her, almost as if asking for help:
“And what do you think I should do?”
“At the moment... you need to change your attitude and start to really collaborate. Talk to me, be honest in your answers, go to see Padre Salas with absolute confidence, investigate...”
“Investigate?”
“Yes. For example, up until now, you haven’t given me a single detail regarding your wife: what she knew, to what extent she thought that Laura was insane, or had been possessed...”
“But I’ve already told you that she and I didn’t...”
“And your wife, didn’t she have any female friends?”
He thought for a few minutes, thinking.
“Well, Alicia only had one friend who you could call a real friend. Her name is Ana, and she’s an architect.”
“Have you ever spoken with her? And if so, what did she say to you?”
“I only spoke with her once... after the death...”
“Okay, then you’ll have to go and talk to her again.”
This brave and resolute woman took him by surprise. As the days went by, he admired more and more her spirit and vitality, and he was glad to be sharing with her everything that was happening. He was glad that Marta had recommended trusting in her.
XXXI
It was Saturday morning, and he had decided to go for a long drive to occupy his mind, and try to make the minutes pass by as quickly as possible. A kind of anxiety overcame him about his interview with Padre Salas that very same night.
‘I don’t understand why the hell I’m so nervous.’
At the traffic lights, he could see how, in the cars all around him, people were making the most of the first hours of the day to go out unobstructed and enjoy the weekend. That type of lifestyle seemed so far away now,
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