The House of Bonmati

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The House of Bonmati Page 13

by Claudio Hernández


  “Go hiding! Do it before that son of a bitch stands up again!” Antonia vociferated, still on the floor. She felt the urge to protect her children, her motherly love showing up at last.

  Pili turned to her brother, who was opening the door with haste. But the wind howling around the windows drowned out the squeak of the door.

  “Come in, Pili” Juan whispered, tugging her hand. “We will hide under the bed.”

  “But the mattress is all peed.” Pili reminded him, frowning. The rooms were cold and they could see their breath when they were there.

  “A pee is better than getting hit in our heads with a hammer. Believe me, Dad has gone crazy.” Juan felt weird calling him Dad under those circumstances.

  Kill them. He had said so.

  They closed the door behind them and they hid under the bed. It was true, it smelled like stale pee. They held their nose and a faint smile showed in both faces, under that bed, in the shadows.

  The wind howled around the corner of the room, and snowflakes were crashing against the windows like white sputum, drawing strange figures on the glass, which disturbed them a lot.

  The started hearing Pedro’s footsteps again, and the heavy hammer hitting the wall while he was going up the stairs slowly. Antonia could not see him yet, but she had decided to kick him again if her husband lifted again the hammer above her head. He was now a stranger, a stranger who had gone nuts, she thought.

  Her leg still hurt, but it wouldn’t be long before the pain would get much worse.

  The wind was blowing against the window glass again, which bent like a plastic sheet. The bolt blew up and snow started coming in through the open window. The cold was starting to be noticed. Antonia’s sweaty forehead and hair froze almost immediately as soon as the cold air hit her hard.

  She had turned around to go towards the window when he raised the hammer, so it caught her off guard. The hammer was right behind her, and she tried to crawl forward, although she was crying. The heaviest part of the hammer impacted between her shoulder plates. She was feeling such an enormous pain that she could not help writhing in agony for a moment, even though she could be hit again, this time from the front. She could only see Pedro’s silhouette between dark and the white light coming through the windows.

  The only sound that could be heard was the drip of the blood hitting the floor tiles.

  Antonia kept crawling along the floor, using her hands as a lever to be able to move on. Her nail pried away from her nail bed, and she winced in pain. Her pupils dilated and she thought she had broken a couple of bones in her back. She could hardly breathe. However, she could stand the pain.

  She felt some snow now on her hair. It was making her look like one of those Christmas tree balls she had used to decorate the Christmas tree one month before. The room had started covering with a thin layer of snow and it seemed as if the place had been lit up.

  Pedro stumbled, he lost his balance and then he regained it again, like a buoy, without dropping the hammer. He had injured his legs when he had fallen down, and he had been suffering from sciatica for twenty years.

  “You have nothing left! You’re done!” His voice was now cracking, as if he had bitten his tongue.

  Antonia strove to protect her head instead of answering him, trying to forget the pain. But it wasn’t working at all.

  Pedro was next to her, in the room with the four doors around, including the locked room, and he continued closing in on her with the hammer in his hand.

  Juan feeling worse and worse, and suddenly he felt a tingling on his face. Then he could only see little black dots. He was having a panic attack. His father’s voice was audible from their hiding place, and they were terrified, with their hearts racing. Dad had gone totally crazy, and he was determined to end their lives. Just the thought of that made him shiver. He felt he was close to death. He thought that he would finally taste it. He always had respect and fear for death. His constant panic and asthma attacks arose due to that fear, and after those attacks he used to feel gutted, unable to move, speechless with all that flood of terrible thoughts.

  The psychologist said it was just a chemical reaction, when he visited him for the first time, more than four years ago. Think of something else, that man with his horn-rimmed glasses used to say. Think of your fucking mother; he used to think. But now he was seized by a terrible fear difficult to control. He was breathing with a whistling sound in his chest. Pili was scared too.

  The door was closed. But they could hear gasps and footsteps. Those terrible footsteps along with the snow and the howling wind shaking the window.

  “What made you go crazy?” Antonia asked with her hand on her face, making a great effort to talk with him. Her eyes were swollen with tears, but Pedro could not see them.

  “You did. You and your bastard children did.”

  “You always loved your daughter. Why do you say that now?”

  “They want me to do something pure and clean.” He pointed to his head, which was blurry and glowing at the same time. “You want to poison me and send me to hell.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “They did. They speak to me.”

  “Who are they, then?”

  “I don’t know. God, I guess.”

  Antonia stopped talking. She felt like an idiot trying to make conversation with someone who was about to bash her in the head with a hammer. It seemed the most likely scenario. She felt foolish.

  She crawled towards the window, while Pedro followed her stumbling. He was covered by snow now.

  “Kill me if you want to, but leave your kids alone.”

  “What do you mean my kids?”

  Antonia could see pure hatred in his eyes, which were half-closed and only showed part of the iris.

  Dozer could be heard barking in the distance.

  “You are a son of a bitch!” Antonia vociferated, finding the strength to get off the ground, as if she had been pushed by a spring. She felt the stabbing pain again, but she managed to open his son’s bedroom door. Pedro did not react as fast as he would have wanted, and Antonia slammed the door behind her. He was still stunned after falling down the stairs, and he could not move quickly, as if he were drunk.

  “You screwed me! But I will have you, don’t doubt it!” Pedro shouted with a harsh voice. He felt a pulsatile pain in the back of his head. He put his hand on it, touching it gently. His fingers brushed against a soft liquid. Then he knew it was blood. That’s funny. I didn’t realize I was bleeding. Then rage seized upon him. He stepped out in front of the wooden door and raised the hammer.

  Juan, in the meanwhile, was in the other room trying to overcome the panic attack, breathing slowly, cupping his hands in a bowl-shape with fingers together to avoid hyperventilating. His sister was next to him, with her arm around his shoulder.

  “Brother, be strong.”

  He looked at her in the gloom and then he felt ridiculous before his younger sister. He was supposed to have the balls, but he was behaving as a weak little boy. He felt bad about it. Then he shook his head and started breathing regularly. Now he would show her that he was not weak or flimsy, that he was a strong boy.

  Then they started hearing shouts and bangs behind the door. The fucking blows that echoed all over the house.

  The hammer stroke the wood hard and the door started swinging at the first blow. Pedro had a good grip on the hammer, grabbing it with both hands. He had headache and he was clenching his teeth. Antonia was crying frantically on the other side of the door, and he could imagine her jumping like a little girl on a floor with burning charcoal.

  “I will be the end of you!” Pedro shouted, striking again the hammer against the door.

  A new cry could be heard, as if the metallic part of the hammer had hit her with that single bow. The freezing air was brushing his sweaty face. And even though some snowflakes were melting on his hair, his head was still white, as if he were wearing a crown.

  There was not much to say, so Antonia opted
for screaming. Anyway there was nothing she could say that would make sense in such a violent situation, and before a door that was being broken by blows of a hammer.

  Are we all going nuts?

  Antonia thought they were.

  The hammer stroke again the door and it snapped in half. A gap was opened, and any time a blood shot eye would be peeping out the hole.

  It was one of those terrible moments that rarely happen, fortunately, when your life and other people’s life is in danger.

  But it was happening.

  On the news, the following day, it would be probably said that the alleged perpetrator of the crimes had done it because he heard voices in his head. Or maybe it would be said that it was the case of a mother defending her children from an aggressive father. Or maybe...

  Antonia shouted again, this time it was a piercing cry that made Juan and Pili’s heart stopped beating for a moment. There they were, sweating, under a pissed mattress.

  There was only one thing left to do. Proceed.

  The hammer was already embedded into the wood of the door, and the metallic part of the tool was could be seen from the other side of the door. Antonia screamed and screamed, stronger than before, even though the pain on her feet had turned into a dull ache. She took the chair next to the desk with both hands.

  The hammer smashed against the broken boards of the door again. Now Antonia could see his face. He looked pale, as white as snow, his jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes showed his insanity. She thought Pedro was going to get his head through the hole, but he didn’t. He pushed what was left of the door with his shoulder instead. The thick blood coming from his head wound was running down his back slowly.

  The door gave way as if suddenly it had turned into a bunch of dried twigs. Antonia had kept away from the door and she saw Pedro lying face down on the floor, on top of the remains of the door. The hammer had slipped from his hands. Then Antonia left the chair and picked up the hammer, which was shimmering on the floor. The room light was on, and now everything looked yellowish, from the bedroom to the room outside. Even the locked room looked yellowish.

  “Say your goodbyes to this fucking world!” Antonia shouted while hitting him with the hammer in his shoulder. Pedro howled and moved his arm slowly. He was squirming like a worm, and then Antonia saw that his head was full of blood. She raised the hammer again in the air, but his hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her down.

  Antonia lost her balance and fell on top of him, although she could hit him before in his head with the hammer. He had a new gash in his scalp, and blood started spilling out like a water pipe.

  But he did not faint.

  Juan and Pili summoned all the courage they had to leave their pissed hideout. There had been no apparitions on the mirror this time. The only reflection they saw was the reflection of their own faces. They had heard all the hammer blows, and they had heard the door falling down. Sweating, under the freezing air blast that was coming in from the window, they went out with stealthy steps, poking their heads around the door to see what was going on. There were snowflakes flying everywhere, some of them landing on their hair and shoulders forming a thin layer.

  Antonia saw them, so scared, holding hands. But they were no longer shivering. Juan had staved off the panic attack and he was not feeling the awful tingling sensation any longer. They were wide eyed, quite close to them.

  “You have to hide! Run! Go away!” Their mother shouted lying on the ground, repressing a cry. Pedro’s fingers were holding her ankle tight, and she could feel a sort of electrical shock that made her arch her back.

  The hammer had been left on the floor, quite near them.

  Juan started moving along the wall, up to the locked door, where he stood for a second after remembering again that purple woman with a sticky black tongue who had kissed him.

  “I remember now what I saw in that room.” He said.

  “Did you go into that room?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Where did you get the key from?”

  “There is no key for that lock. Mr. Valenti took them, remember?”

  Juan raised an eyebrow.

  “It was open.”

  “Juan...”

  “Strange things happen round here. Look at dad.” He interrupted, while pointing towards his father lying on the floor, his hand holding his mother’s ankle, who was struggling between pain and desperation.

  “Go away!” Her mother vociferated raising her hand.

  Why are we standing here? Juan thought a bit dazed. Then he reacted. He felt his heart racing again. He was riding the biggest roller coaster in the world for free.

  “Juan, snap out of it. We are in danger.” His sister told him, and then he blinked for a second, before starting walking again stealthily. It was as if nobody else were there. He touched the curtain and he felt it was rough. He drew back the curtain and put his foot on the first step of the stairs that led to the attic.

  Meanwhile, Antonia had managed to grab the hammer again.

  Pili followed his brother upstairs, still holding her brother’s hand, and she turned her gaze to her mother, just when she was dropping the whole weight of the hammer on his father’s hand. His father uttered the most heartrending cry, and he loosened mum’s ankle. Pili’s heart was throbbing in her temples. She closed her terrified eyes for a moment and she let herself be guided by her big brother, who was pulling her up.

  Antonia arouse from the ground leaving the hammer behind. She was gasping, she was hysterical, and she was not aware of the fact that the she had done the worst thing she could have done. She shouldn’t have left the hammer there. But she was not concerned about that, so she ran towards the stair to go down groping to the sitting room and the barn. Pedro’s hand gripped the handle of the hammer. He was crying.

  Juan and Pili were already in the attic, and they saw the glow of snow everywhere. His antenna was still there, but it was covered in snow, like a huge snowball. The wind howled around the window, which had no glass, and they could feel the freezing cold, turning their sweat into frozen water.

  Their hearts were still racing, but the fear seemed to start losing its grip. They did not see any ghost.

  Pedro got up despite the pain with one side of his face full of blood. He walked towards the stairs and went down the steps slowly, while shouting:

  “Bloody bitch! You are strong, aren’t you? I will kill you first, and then I will kill your bastards! I’m going to kill you all, even the goat!” Pedro’s voice was heard in the background, down the dark stairwell. He was groping with one hand, holding the hammer in his other hand. He felt a terrible pain there, but he stifled a cry. His bloodshot eyes were skulked in the dark. But there was light at the bottom of the stairs. The dim light of the sitting room was on.

  Antonia had left many footprints has she had not stopped bleeding, and there was a trail of blood all over the floor. Pedro had reached the last step and suddenly a violent pang run down his spine. It was the sciatica, it was squashing his vertebras. The pain was so sharp that it arched his back, and his hand went there. He clenched his teeth and he moaned to dull the pain, which was well known to him, as he had been suffering from sciatica over the last few years.

  Antonia had turned on the light in the room where they kept animal feed. The room was next to the barn, through a door which had a latch on both sides. Her fingers reached the first latch and she opened it with a squeak. Then she pushed the door with both hands and it burst open despite its rusty hinges. The cows were not sleeping and they started mooing all at once, as if they knew what was going on.

  Of course, she had also turned the barn lights on, which were just two bulbs in the middle of the ceiling that looked like fireflies in the middle of the night. All the cows were watching impassive, and some of them were even chewing straw at that time.

  Antonia held on the edge of the door to slam it shut again. After doing so, she closed the latch. Pedro was already in front of the door and she had pract
ically slammed it on his face.

  “Open the door, you fucking bitch!” Pedro shouted from the other side, and he started striking the wood with blows that made it bend and sending up clouds of dust. But this door was stronger than the first one.

  Antonia was leaning her head against the door, and every time he hit the wood she felt a terrible pain in her head, so she decided to move away from it, but she felt that she was doing something wrong. She thought that her hands on the door would offer the necessary strength to stop him. But it was the latch, not her, what was stopping him from coming. The cows could be heard mooing.

  The hammer shimmered under the window and it drew a downward arch towards the door. The wood started cracking. His eyes lightened when he saw that he was strong enough to bring this door down. He kept hitting and striking with fury and madness.

  Antonia walked among the cows which were mooing and crying. She was staggering and her injuries were filled with cow shit and straw. She was not worried about the possibility of getting an infection; she was just trying to find a way out. She was looking for a solution. She was at the exit door of the barn, but it had a wooden board across the door that kept it closed, and she was not strong enough to lift it up. Besides, she felt such a pain in her back that she could hardly hold back a cry.

  The blows echoed like small earthquakes up there in the attic. Juan and Pili’s faces were as white as the snow that was entering through the window. They could see a wide white sheet over the tops of the trees, while the wind kept howling around the roof.

  They embraced strongly.

  The door gave way finally and the wood split in three. The cows got nervous and they started shaking their heads forcefully, trying to break free from their collars, tied to a chain. Some of them were kicking the air.

  Antonia grabbed the wooden board and she pulled it up with all her might, but it didn’t move, and a stabbing pain went through her body from her scapula. Her heart was beating hard. This time she couldn’t help screaming, although it was not too harrowing.

 

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