The House of Bonmati

by Claudio Hernández

  She heard Juan’s stomach growl. He now was feeling numb. He started thinking he was going to faint again. And suddenly he recalled the weird things his dad had done before on their other house. Something called black magic. Had they come here to get him? He had heard his father say so. He was now evangelist and he looked weird. He was behaving weirder than usual. He was changing, that was the proper term.

  But it was her mom who wore the pants in the family, although that was going to change. And it would change for the worse.

  31

  The attic was very cold and drafty. Pedro noticed that the window at the end of the stairs was open. That window faced the woods. As the main window was right in front of it, it let the draft come in. That explained the way that the bulbs of garlic swayed, bumping softly into each other. But there was no explanation for the cold. It was an intense cold. His breath and his words turned into a white steam that got lost when reaching the ceiling.

  However, everything else was fine. There were no cries, no gasps, no voices or shouts. There was no one there, there was nothing there; at least there was nothing visible to the naked eye. Pedro had not seen any wraith or such thing yet.

  He closed the window that faced the woods and the draft stopped. He walked then towards the main window, from where he could see the river, which now was silver because of the rays of the moon. He also watched the treetops dancing with the tramontane wind, leaning on the window. The bricks were firmly grounded. The glass of the window, broken the first day they arrived, was propped against the wall. He also saw the wooden antenna with copper wire his son had left one day. He did not smile. He just kicked it and sent it to the other side of the attic.

  He ran his fingers through the window bricks and the tough touch brought him thoughts about his past, strangely enough, and he knew for sure that something was going on. He knew as soon as his guts started roaring inside his belly.

  The wind was blowing strongly outside. He watched it as if it had a concrete shape, as if he could not understand, his dazed look showing his lack of knowledge, but then he understood, and something deadened in his eyes.

  32

  Antonia considered all that just as an anecdote. She watched her husband going down the stairs with a distant gaze and a serious expression. But that had been his usual expression lately. He walked past without looking at them. He was muttering Bible verses while going down the stairs towards the dark sitting room, leaving behind a trail of print from his bare feet.

  Angels moved her lips, but she did not say anything. She walked back to her room leaning on her walking-stick. Her huge boobs could be seen from both sides of her dress, and they looked like two large tumors.

  The moon kept on doing the rest of its job during the night and everything was forgotten until the last day of Angels’ stay at the house.

  33

  Juan had built what it would become his favorite shelter, and he felt like trying it during the autumn rainy days. However, it was still summer, it smelled like damp soil and it was cool inside. He was proud of his work. It had had a hard time digging the hole, similar to a pit, and it had taken to him four days to finish it with a shovel in his small hands. When he did it, he found out that his palms were red and blistered. They had hurt him for three days, until the blisters popped and a sweet transparent liquid spilled from the small pockets within the skin. But it was worth it.

  He had covered the hole with several wooden boards and a large thick plastic sheet that was quite noisy, like a roof. He had thrown then soil on it and had started jumping on top until he left it flat, and once he had put some leaves and branches on the soil it had blended into the surroundings.

  He had tested the toughness of the roof, and now it had become a shelter with a big mouth just down the hillside, where he had built it. It had a perfect view of the tall trees that separated the house and the River Ter.

  This was much better than the hut made with reeds and plastic sheets. This one was next to the shelter, but all the reeds that were the pillars of the hut were gone with a tramontane wind. And they were all piled on the floor. However, the shelter was still there, and it comforted him.

  He took all the reeds away and swept the path that led to the henhouse. The little path was surrounded by long woods and thorns, and it was still an untouched area so far.

  He had his shelter already, but he had higher expectations, because he was going to build a tunnel that would lead to the woods through the roots of tree.

  But he would do it later. He had a lot of soil to remove with the shovel. And he still remembered the sweat covering his body and the bloody blisters on his hands. Like every day, Juan was inside his shelter, thinking, with his arms in the back of his neck and his feet out, facing the hillside that ended in a precipice of 4 meters, when he heard Angels voice and the strokes of her cane.

  “What do you mean?” Angels had asked, but there was no answer.

  Juan assumed that she was in the company of her mother, and he was not pleased at all. But the incoherence of the conversation made him think that she was talking to herself, or at least, with someone who was not listening.

  Angels set her right foot on one side of the roof of Juan’s shelter. And the soil, which was soft, rolled over to one side, showing something that gleamed and was mixed with leaves. It was the plastic sheet, only a little part of the shelter.

  The cane dragged over the floor, drawing a crooked line.

  “The man is changing. I noticed it the first day, I don’t know why but he is.” She remained silent, thinking, for what seemed like forever and added: “He was calmer, and now he is more nervous. He appears to be even more aggressive.

  Of course, nobody answered, or maybe someone did, but only Angels could hear it. Juan’s heart started pounding while he waited for the answer.

  The cane drew another line and sunk into the soil when Angels literally pulled her full weight on the grip.

  “Yes, you are right, but...”

  That inaudible voice for Juan cut short and said something he could not hear. She was talking to her sister, whom he had not met yet. Was she really talking to her sister? Might she be dead? Or maybe she was speaking to her telepathically? All those questions were crossing his mind and his eyes were glowing in the dark.

  "I cannot warn them. I just can't." Angels’ voice started trembling. She hit the ground with the cane a bit deeper. She was making a hole in the plastic, and Juan could feel the small bits of soil going under the surface and covering his sweaty forehead.

  There was another moment of silence then, when only the wind could be heard, howling between the branches, up there, inaudible under the ground.

  "Sister, I leave it to you. You will know what to do better than me." Angels said. "Whatever you do, it will be the right thing to do. You will do the right things in the right way, if you can, because now they are stronger than you."

  Juan was rather impressed by those last four words; he felt them as a blow in his heart. The cane went deeper again in the ground, and the plastic was even more pierced. His forehead was now full of soil again. He shook his head down there.

  They are stronger than you.

  Juan swallowed hard while Angels was saying goodbye to her sister.

  "Sister, I'm leaving this afternoon." He was then about to choke. His throat was obstructed and he had severe difficulty in breathing because of a lack of air.

  Juan tried to calm down, although he was right under the pointy end of the walking stick.

  Then she lifted it and the sunlight came in through the hole like a torch beam.

  He could hear Angels’ footsteps leaving the place, fading in the distance and mixing with the gentle breeze.

  And then the wind howled again. It was a sunny day.

  34

  Antonia jammed on the brake pedal and the wheels started spinning on the dirt road, raising a cloud of dust like fire fumes. The sky was blue and the sun was shining brightly. That morning was the happiest morning of her l
ife. When the dust faded after a draft, Antonia looked at her with sparkling eyes.

  “I’m sorry you have to go back home” Antonia lied, showing her upper gum that looked like a red lump with white little spots.

  “Not half as sorry as I am” Angels said, lolling on the co-pilot seat, with her cane between her legs.

  “It’s been a pleasure having you with us” Antonia let go of the steering wheel and she extended a languid handshake with her short fingers.

  Angels frowned. She didn’t extend her hand in return. You are not fooling me with that cynical expression, she thought.

  “How does this door open?” Angels asked turning her head. She was pretending to be busy with the door.

  “Oh!” Antonia stood there with her hand outstretched like an idiot. “I’ll have to open it from the outside. It is broken.” She explained while moving her hand down.

  She opened the driver’s door immediately. She went around the car and gave Angels a forced smile. Angels was still inside the car. Finally, and as quietly as she could, trying to hide her joy, she pulled the lever to open the car door. Once it was opened, Angels showed her notorious smile, as silly as always.

  She moved plaintively to let her feet out of the car. Her dark sneakers came out a minute later. The car moved on its shock absorbers and she dragged her ass through the seat, letting her cane out with a heavy thud.

  “Can you help me?” Angels extended her arms. Now the walking stick was leaning against the car.

  “Of course; My pleasure.” Antonia said with a cynical smile on her lips.

  They could feel the intense heat on their skin, the rays of sun caressing their faces, two weeks before the end of the summer. Antonia’s mascara threatened to melt in her eyes. Her red lips looked already poorly painted.

  Angels took her hands, holding them strongly, and her ass left the seat very briefly. Antonia was bent forward and her forehead slumped over against the door frame. But she did not complain about the sudden and sharp pain. She just wanted to get her out of her sight.

  “Have you hurt yourself?”

  “No.”

  “Sorry, I am really clumsy.” The cane started rolling across the surface and ended on the floor. A thud could be heard, and there was a small cloud of dust in the air that was swept by the invisible broom, the wind.

  “No, not at all; but these cars are very small. I’m thinking about changing to a bigger one. I want a more spacious car, so as to be able to carry more things to the house.” Antonia lied. Her lips were now just like a zip, and Angels wondered how on earth she had been able to speak tight-lipped.

  “It would be very nice, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to visit you again.” Angels said grunting, trying to get out from the car.

  Antonia’s face showed surprise and happiness at the same time.

  Now she could see Angels’ legs with her dark spider veins, and her round knees full of fat lamps. She could also see her panties. The same ones she was wearing the week before.

  “Your legs, Angels, anybody can see them.”

  “Oh! Yes, thanks for telling me.”

  She hadn’t said anything about her pants, which had a yellowish spot right on her nether regions.

  “Hold my hands tight.” Antonia said with a soft tone, which was quite unusual for her. The sun sunk for a moment behind a dark cloud that was moving slowly across the sky, and their faces and eyes darkened. Then, everything returned to normal.

  Finally the shock absorbers stopped lowering the vehicle and it went back to its normal position. That meant something. Angels had finally got out of the car, though not without effort. Now she was beside the car door, leaning on her cane, which was sunk into the floor like a cross.

  “Be careful” She said, and started walking towards the end of the street until her figure was just an insignificant dot.

  Antonia’s jaw dropped, she remained silent, holding the door and sweating under the sun rays and the shadows; And the shadows.

  35

  Holidays were over for Juan and Pili, and they started school. They could no longer take long walks or get lost in the woods, or swim in the river. On his first day of school, Juan noticed he had a lot to explore yet when he got on the school bus. For example, he wanted to take the road to the river that was beside the barn, and also the field of corn that was two kilometers away from the house. Of course, he had to go to the other river that divided the land into two. And there were also those abandoned houses surrounded by apple trees that were screaming for someone to bite their fruit.

  Many things had been left out by him, and many others had happened. For example, his father had gone from bad to worse. He had yelled at Pili two more times. He was unbearable, like an alcoholic who can’t get any drink. He was even worse than his mum, who showed up every now and then with new bruises on her arms and chest.

  Because he had been able to see one of them once, when she had got completely drunk and she had taken off her bra in the kitchen. That day Juan experienced feeling of shame and revulsion at about both things: Because he was watching her almost naked and because she had a big bruise on such a private part.

  And something horrible and frightening occurred on the night after the first day of school.

  36

  Never enter into that locked room. Juan remembered those words from Valenti, while fiddling with the keys. He had thought that it would be his first challenge. He had heard something about the room key, but he didn’t remember what.

  Juan was still wearing his clothes, keeping himself entertained reading an electronics magazine in his room, when his Casio digital watch showed 21.35 PM. He wanted to build a color television and he studied the circuitry every day.

  It was strange for him not to get the urge to see the interior of the room that Angels had been occupying. However, something appeared to be challenging him now to visit that locked room. And, of course, the window was closed.

  He started opening his room door quietly, but it started creaking, so he stopped doing it. When the noise ceased, Juan started moving it again but more slowly. Everything was dark, except the part of the floor that led to the locked room, which was covered by a yellowish carpet that seemed reddish when watched from the distance.

  Juan leaned his head out his open door, and he saw a strong ray of light under Pili’s door. But it was just a reflection of light and it faded among the shadows.

  He could also see a reddish light, like the embers of a fireplace, coming up from downstairs. And he could hear distant voices. It was his parents’ voices, who were arguing in the kitchen, where the television was.

  He looked ahead and something inside him forced him to pull back. He felt a sort of burning sensation from his guts up to his throat, as if he had swallowed an ember. He hesitated for an instant and then he felt two cold hands resting on his shoulders that had started pushing him ahead. He did not dare to look back. His heart started racing like a runaway horse. His feet slipped on the loose floor tiles and he was being guided by the light. He started sweating profusely.

  And he closed his eyes.

  37

  Pedro held the Bible in his hands with his eyes staring vacantly at the open page. Antonia was watching television, with a glass of wine on her hand. Both were sitting on the sofa in front of the TV. The flames were dancing in the fireplace behind them, casting colors on the ceiling and the floor. Sometimes those lights transformed into disturbing shapes, but none of them had noticed it. They were engaged in an argument.

  “Have you started again doing funny things?” Antonia asked him while lifting the glass to her lips.

  “What about you? Have you quit drinking?” Pedro looked up from his Bible and glared at her with squinting eyes.

  Antonia took a big sip and the purple liquid moved like a small wave towards her tongue and her throat, as if it was falling down a thirsty well.

  “I can hear you sometimes talking to yourself. Are you using again Black Magic?”

  “Can’
t you see I’ve got a bible in my hands?”

  “Is God speaking to you now?

  There was a hammer beside the sofa. Now his fingers started touching softly the hammer handle. Antonia did not see him doing so. And Pedro did not wonder why on earth there was such a big hammer right beside the sofa. That didn’t matter now.

  “When will you shut the fuck up?” It was the first time Pedro spoke to her that way, with a new hoarse and altered voice. Antonia bit the rim of the glass, hurting her lips.

  “What’s wrong with you now? You have always been a henpecked! A scumbag! You are always doing crazy things with your pendulum and your black cloak, talking to yourself as if you were at mass preaching to a lot of followers. You have been acting as if you were mad. And now you are doing it again. Nuts!” Antonia raised her voice in the air like an ambulance siren, and it echoed everywhere.

  Pedro smiled. His upper lip turned up slightly with a sickle-shaped smile. And his bloodshot eyes showed little veins in his eye sockets which were as white as snow. His hand squeezed the handle of the hammer.

  38

  Don’t enter room six, because there is someone waiting for you there that is not from this world. This sentence could be heard only inside his head, and it was quite different from the sentence Mr. Valenti had said. He could not understand what a strange power had pushed him to be now in front of that locked door.

  He had been pushed by someone, he had been dragged, but he could not tell if he had been forced by someone, losing his freewill, or if he had done it under his own volition.

  His eyes seemed to sparkle in bright red light, due to the weak light reflecting against the floor and the door. He looked like an evil boy waiting for someone, hiding in the cornfield with a lunatic grin and a sickle in his hand.

  Juan felt a stinging sensation on his knees, as if he had been dragged to the door on his knees. He felt confused but he remembered he had closed his eyes and now, after opening them again, he was right in front of the locked door, as if he was about to kiss it.

  The curtain moved above his head when a gust of cold air came down the attic stairs, which froze the sweat on his forehead. Then he felt a strange mixture of emotions. He stared at the keyhole with eyes wide open, as when he was spying on Mrs. Angels’ room.