by Glover, Dan
By the time Willem was four years old he spent all his time playing at the old church just a short distance from the shack where they lived... so much time in fact that she absentmindedly began calling him Church. The name stuck. That he'd ever been called anything else was forgotten by everyone, including Church.
Though Evalena always carried a disconcerting air about her, Yani was secretly glad the girl came back again. On one hand, her sister frightened her. But then again, the girl seemed so in control of herself that it lent Yani a kind of bravado she didn't normally feel when dealing with others.
Perhaps Evalena had been drawn to them... when asked, her sister said how the snow and the falling stars had led her to that place. At the time Yani felt thankful to have her help but her ministrations had worried and disconcerted her so badly that when Evalena ended up advising her to drown her baby—or to strangle him—she nearly sent her packing. Instead, her sister had simply vanished without a word.
Her sister Evalena's reappearance at the chabola after six all too short years upset the balance of their lives—hers and Church's—in ways which while not entirely unforeseen were not all to Yani's likings either. Evalena's presence made her think of things she'd forced to the back of her mind long ago and had hoped would remain there.
Evalena appeared at the height of summer. A vast network of storms had blown into the north of Texas pushed by a hurricane moving into the Gulf of Mexico... flash floods inundated the entire region with the chabola only being spared by the grace of having been built on higher ground.
Cherry creek and its sister Manaza both grew into raging rivers in a matter of minutes as great bubbles of water began bursting forth from the dry desert floor. Winds tore at the roof of the chabola like a wolf enraged and seeking to gain entrance. At the height of the storm came a loud banging at the door.
Yani thinking something had blown loose in the storm and might further damage the derelict shack hastened Church to what she deemed the most secure part of their home—an old cellar where she sometimes kept potatoes and onions—and tiptoed to the door as the banging sounded again, this time even louder.
Someone might be out there... perhaps a traveler caught out in the storm and seeking shelter... or maybe something more sinister. Waves of dread washed over Yani like the torrents of rain beating angry on the tin roof as she stood at the door wondering whether to open it or just let them find another port in the storm.
"Who is at the door, mother? Shouldn't we let them in so they can get out of the storm?"
"Get back down to the cellar, Church!"
She sounded more cross than she would have liked. Church was a good boy. He never gave her call to raise her voice to him and though he was only six years old the boy had been fending for himself at the chabola while she worked.
A girl who called herself Maria Ramos had acted as a babysitter for Church during his first four years of life. Yani couldn’t afford to pay her for her work but Maria didn’t mind as long as she had a roof over her head and food for her mouth. Two years before Evalena showed up again, Maria had left the chabola to return to her home in Honduras.
The girl told her in hushed tones how she no longer felt able to deal with the music. Yani never realized other people could hear it too. For years she thought she was the only one for whom the stone sang. To her it was not an unpleasant melody but apparently the piedra acted differently upon everyone.
"That music keeps me up at night, Yani."
"What music, Maria??"
"You must hear it too, Yani. At first I thought it was coming from the creek out back."
"When do you hear the music, Maria?"
"It's always louder when the sun goes down for some reason."
"Maybe the music is carrying from somewhere nearby. The nights are so still here that any sound is magnified."
"I know exactly where that music is coming from, Yani. Early one evening I went to find Willem. He's always playing at that old church... you know how much he loves it there... the one that burned... the Church of the Five Angels."
Yani knew well which church the girl was talking about. It received its name from the stone carving still in place over the gutted doorway... five angels stood vigil over the prone body of Christ, or was it Lucifer? Yani could never decide which or if indeed those angels were weeping or laughing.
"The music is coming from under that sycamore tree that grows there. I know it is. I could tell that Willem heard it too. Is that why he likes playing there so much? The melody comes up from the ground, Yani. At first I thought someone had buried a radio there but I've been hearing it for years... the batteries would have gone dead long before now, wouldn’t they?"
"Of course, Maria... there must be some other explanation. Sometimes the sounds around here are reflected off nearby objects."
"I don’t think so... I stood there a long while listening. I'm certain the melody is coming from that place."
"If it'll make you feel better, Maria, I'll go with you to that old church myself. Together we'll figure out where that music is coming from."
"I just know that the music frightens me. I don’t understand how it could be playing from under the ground like that, Yani. Is it coming from hell? Don't you ever hear it? I can't seem to get that melody out of my mind even when I am in town. Maybe I'm going insane... I want to go home. I'm afraid to stay here any longer."
"I'm so sorry, Maria. You should have said something before about all this. I have no idea what music you mean though. I've never heard anything like that. But then again I'm gone all day long and by the time I return home I'm so tired I go right to bed.
"You've been so good to me and to Willem... if you want to go home I'll buy you a plane ticket. Should you ever change your mind you know you're always welcome here."
The girl had gladly taken the ticket but she never returned. Yani felt terrible lying to her about the music but what was she supposed to say? Oh... there's something buried at that church, Maria... a strange object that looks like a rock and yet shimmers like water and it sings to those who can hear it. Pay it no mind.
"Do you hear that music, Willem?"
"Do you mean the music coming from the church, mother?"
"So you do hear it..."
"Of course... I always hear it. The music scared Maria away, didn’t it."
"Yes, I'm afraid so, Willem."
"Can I ask you something, mother?"
"You can ask me anything, son."
"Will you start calling me Church?"
Now her son stood at the top of the stairs leading down into the black pit below the chabola with the same awful look on his face he always made when he wanted to cry but stopped himself. She felt terrible for being gruff with the boy.
"Please forgive me for shouting, Church. I'm just worried about this storm. The cellar is the safest place."
""Shouldn’t you open the door then, mother? We can all hide down here. I don't want to go all by myself. It's too dark."
The boy was right... he deserved company in that dreadful place and she couldn’t let the storm take someone when it was in her power to save them. Still, she would come to rue that night for years afterwards always asking herself if she'd made the right choice or a terrible mistake.
Peeking through the glass in the door Yani saw a figure black like an overgrown spider perched and ready to spring upon its quarry and for a long moment she wished she had brought the shotgun to the chabola that Rancher Ford had once offered to give her for protection.
"There are wild and terrible things out there, Yani... take this... you don't have to be a good shot to use it... just point it and squeeze the trigger."
She refused the weapon. Maybe she thought in accepting it she'd be drawing things to her that might otherwise not be aware of her circumstances or perhaps she simply disliked the thought of killing something... now, however, she regretted that decision.
She had the distinct impression that if she shot whoever or whatever lurked on the t
iny porch of the chabola she could pitch the carcass into the raging creek and no one would ever be the wiser and in the doing she'd save both herself and those she had come to love considerable heartache and misery.
When she looked through the tiny window glass once more a flash of lightning illuminated the figure standing not a foot away from her and Yani knew the long and pleasant days she had spent living in the obscurity of poverty were over.
She opened the door. Rain wasn’t falling so much as blowing horizontally in a maelstrom of biblical proportions. Lightning strobe-lighted the wind-whipped trees causing the familiar countryside to take on a surreal and sinister look as if all the future suffering coming her way played out before her.
What was Evalena doing here? Didn’t the girl understand that she was no longer considered family? Yani wanted no part of the augury that followed her around like a well-trained rat grown fat off the leavings of a world gone bad and rotten with plenary.
"Hello, Evalena."
"Who is it, mother?"
"It's your aunt, Church."
"Why don’t you let her come inside?"
The boy stood right behind her now though Yani couldn’t recall how long he'd been there. How could she explain to Church that the woman on the porch had wanted to drown him the night he was born?
She wanted to ask her sister how she dared to come back to Texas but it'd only sound stupid. Theirs was a connection that couldn't be severed by time or distance. Had she boarded a space ship and flown to the moon or Mars, Evalena would have found her.
"I've nowhere else to go. I'm nearly done in from my trip, Yani. May I come inside or should I leave?"
Though she opened the door only a crack and but for a few seconds Yani was already soaking wet. The rain felt cold too, like ice not yet fully formed. During the intermittent lightning flashes she saw Evalena's lower lip quivering and when the girl spoke it seemed as if she exhaled water rather than air.
She knew if she refused her admittance to the chabola Evalena couldn't cross the threshold and come inside. The magic the girl held in her hands like so many malignant flowers had its limits. When she turned to look at him Church's eyes beseeched her to let the girl enter... Yani couldn't rebuff that plea. She stood aside and allowed Evalena to pass.
"Come inside, sister, and warm yourself."
Even soaking wet the girl radiated beauty like the storm exuded terror. Evalena displayed that rare combination of grace tinged with indecency, like the puta Mary Magdalene who Jesus loved so fervently.
She loved Evalena even while hating her. Had she a dagger Yani thought how she might plunge it into the girl when she turned her back to warm herself by the tiny cook stove that huddled in the middle of the room.
She'd never understood how like her Evalena remained young while those around them grew older by the day. Even when Yani had been a child she remembered, or thought so anyway, that Evalena looked the same age as the day she showed up at the chabola asking for a bed and a bite to eat and respite from the storm that swirled around them all.
"Thank you, sister. The night that brought me here is bad. If you wish it I'll only stay until the storm goes."
"You may stay as long as you desire, Evalena... but please be kind to my son."
"You know I'd never harm a child, sister. Where is the boy? Let me see how big he's grown and how handsome."
Church had apparently run up to the loft while Yani talked with Evalena the door for when she turned around he had vanished.
"Church... come down, please. We have a visitor... someone you should meet."
"I thought you named the boy Willem, Yani."
"I did. Church is his nickname. Everyone calls him that."
"Church it is, then, sister. I like that."
The boy's feet appeared at the top of the ladder soon followed by the rest of him. Yani kept a sharp eye on her sister wondering if the girl might still be carrying hate for Church. Evalena surprised her by bending down and motioning for the boy to give her a hug. Yani was even more astounded when he complied.
"Do you know who I am, Church?"
"You're my Tia... you're mother's sister."
"Church! English only in this house... remember?"
"Let him speak as he will, sister. Yes, Church, I'm your aunt. I've traveled many miles to see you and your mother again. Thank you for allowing me to enter your home."
"Come with me, sister... you must be tired. Church... give us a kiss goodnight and please go to bed. The storm's letting up and we're no longer in danger. Come along Evalena... I'll fix you a pallet in the back room. It won't be much but the bed will be warm and dry."
Her sister frightened her and yet having her around again seemed to bolster Yani's own sagging self esteem and helped to alleviate the fear that always beset her when she had to deal with anyone she didn't know well. Her sister's presence made her cognizant of the magic in the world once again... and she remembered the package. How could she have forgotten?
On the day of Willem's birth Evalena had appeared out of the misty night like a phantom crow come home to roost on a dead tree in a deserted cemetery. She walked into the chabola without knocking, took one look at the baby boy, and uttered three words.
"Drown him, Yani."
She remembered how she clung more tightly to Willem after that never letting him out of her sight for even an instant. After three days Evalena left as quickly and mysteriously as she arrived. She didn't say goodbye nor did she leave any note of farewell at all.
A day later someone delivered a parcel with only the name Evalena Gutiérrez written upon it. There was nothing else to go by... only her sister's name. Yani never received mail and in fact did even not know the address of the chabola where she lived in a pleasantly pervasive incognito.
Yani left the package set on a shelf over the stove for a day thinking Evalena might return for it or perhaps it might fall into the flames where it belonged. In time however she grew curious as to what lay beneath the wrappings. She hefted the box in her hands and shook it in order to determine its make. While whatever it was didn’t weigh much on one day, the next day it seemed to be quite heavy. And when she shook it one day she was sure something inside the box was scratching around as if it might be alive but when she did the same thing the next day she could hear nothing as if the box was as empty as an unused grave.
After a week had gone by Yani ripped off the brown paper wrapping, tore off the cardboard, and took the box in her hands. It seemed like a perfect cube, golden in color and yet with some sort of black filament running through its construction. There seemed to be no latch with which to open it but as she held it in her palm the top opened all on its own like a malignant jack-in-the-box.
Inside hovered a chicken-egg shaped object that sometimes looked yellow and sometimes looked blue though she often wondered if instead it might be green. She thought it might have something to do with the time of day and the light coming through the solitary window yet even when she brought the egg outside into the sunlight it changed colors... as soon as she thought it was one shade of blue it would morph into a singular green with a hint of yellow around the edges.
The object inside the box seemed solid and yet liquid at the same time. It hung in the middle of the box as if suspended by unseen wires even when she shook it. Something grated on the bottom of the box like tiny grains of sand. She was fearful to touch the thing for when she brought a finger close to its surface an electric arc was generated between her skin and the object. It did not hurt so much as it startled her.
Yani thought it odd that there was no packing inside the object's container and yet the egg didn't rattle around inside. It hovered like an angry hornet. The box itself seemed to be made of a kind of wood that she hadn't seen before... there were no hinges incorporated into the design yet it opened as if there were... she discovered that whatever edge that happened to be upright when she held the box in her hand would raise up all on its own as if it somehow knew what she desired.
But the box wasn't magnetic. She tested it with one of the little toy magnets she used to hold important papers on the side of the old rusty metal desk that served her as a kitchen table... a gift from the previous occupant.
Yani noticed that when she was around the box and the stone it contained—for it was more a stone than anything even while it appeared to be made of water too—she thought much more clearly than normal—she'd always been a bit scatterbrained—and she seemed to have a surplus of energy that had been lacking in her life for as long as she could remember.
She thought of all the things the box might mean and what the stone inside could possibly represent but all her notions ran to the terrifying reality of her father. He'd brought it. Still, no one out in the world knew she lived here... she hadn't assumed a new last name as she once considered doing yet she used it seldom, she had no Texas connections other than with the Triple Six ranch, and she didn't even have a postal box to receive mail. The parcel had simply been left on her doorstep. She wasn’t sure who had delivered it or why.
It had to be the man she called father. The man still wanted her, or perhaps the cult he'd given her over to. She remembered how Evalena talked of their father in the past tense as if he was dead but men like Hajdani didn't die. The mysterious package had to be from him though without a return address she couldn’t be sure.
Another thing that made her uneasy was how the box glowed in the dark. In fact, it wasn’t the box so much that glowed but the object inside of it. It seemed strange to Yani how the light of the egg could permeate the solid wood and she worried that perhaps the box and its contents might be dangerous both to her and her baby.
She took the box and wrapping up little Willem safe from the cold—not wanting to wake Maria—she went down to the creek bank where using a spade she uprooted a large rock, dug a hole under it, lowered the box into it, and covered it up. Satisfied with her efforts she took up her son and the spade and went back home.
