“I thought at first that her hesitation was because the water was too cold. Her teeth were chattering. But then she confessed that Victoria had asked her to use the stone to make buttons for her gloves a month before. And that she was wearing those gloves that night at the pavilion.
“‘Go then to the pavilion, you stupid swine!’ I yelled. ‘And get me those gloves!’
“I tried to hit her with the pestle, I was so mad, but she was already swimming towards the shore.
“By the time she reached the Pavilion the dance had already started. She tried to get in through the front door, but of course, dressed in her old rags, wet, full of mud, and without an invitation, they wouldn’t let her in. And she’s so stupid. She’s not only as ugly as a pig, Father, but so incredibly stupid, she lost precious time wandering around waiting to see if any of her sisters or her acquaintances came out, while I had to wait in the cold on that boat, the sleeves of my sweater soaking wet, wishing life had given me a tumor instead of such a stupid ass for a daughter. Who in his right mind would have come out of that palace when the party had just started? Did you get to see it, Father, Mr. Fraser’s pier, before the fire destroyed it? The façade was all iron and glass, and it had turrets at both ends like an Indian palace. My two little kittens were inside, all dolled up, confident that their beauty and natural refinement would call the attention of a fine gentleman and they would be asked to dance. Alas, as beautiful as Rosa and Victoria are, they couldn’t compete with most of the women there, boasting their silks and ostrich feathers. Not for the best suitors. Not with their plain cotton dresses and their mended stockings. They had no pearls. No other adornment on their heads than their old satin ribbons. The two of them were sitting on a row of chairs set against the wall, shooing away the occasional poor man that approached them, waiting for a couple of rich gentlemen with kind hearts to notice their beauty.
“‘Do you think we’ll get to dance tonight, Rosa?’
“‘I don’t know. Keep on smiling.’
“‘I am thirsty. I wish I could have some punch.’
“‘We don’t have any money.’
“At the Sabbath you don’t have to wait for any man, Father. You stand up and dance. You don’t have to be chosen. You feel like shaking your feet, you stand up and begin dancing. Same with having a drink. You’re thirsty, you go on and demand it. You don’t need any money… After almost an hour roaming outside the building, my ugly daughter figured out a way to break into the Pavilion through the kitchen. They must have thought she was there to pick up the garbage. Then, she slipped into the main hall and wandered around, avoiding the staff, looking for my daughters. At last she saw Victoria and then Rosa. What an unpleasant surprise it must have been to my kittens to see their horrible little sister approach them. I completely understood their reaction. They stood up and walked away. But she followed them. She followed them through the room, until they couldn’t avoid her anymore.
“‘What are you doing here?’
“She reached for Victoria’s gloves, but Rosa pulled her by one arm and forced her to hide under a small table.
“‘What are you doing here?’ they asked.
“That swine said that she needed Victoria’s gloves.
“‘My gloves? Are you crazy?’
“‘Shut up,’ Rosa interrupted. ‘O’Leary just saw us.’
“Indeed, their sworn enemy Patricia O’Leary, who had also managed to get invited to the ball, had just seen my girls arguing with their little sister, and what else would a snake like that girl do but to start gossiping? She thinks she is better than my kittens because we are poor, but her father is just an electric car driver. And her friend, I’ve seen that girl, Eloise Triggs, she sells postcards on the Pier. A scrawny bird with eyes popping out of her head. She looks like she’s full of parasites… God didn’t give any brains to this stupid retarded chimp I conceived from a dog. She should not have gone out to the hall. She should have asked somebody in the kitchens to pass a note to her sisters and explain the predicament I was in. Or she should have been more discreet, gotten in without calling too much attention, say what she needed to say and leave fast with the gloves—don’t you think, Father?
“Victoria’s eyes filled up with tears. She had such high hopes for that dance, she had dreamed she met her future husband by the ice sculptures, and their insensitive sister was ruining it all. I know that, Father, because when I asked the two of them for their help taking me to the middle of the lagoon that morning they got all sad and started crying, explaining how long they had been dreaming to go the ball and the extremes to which they had gone to get an invitation.
“‘I had to sleep with a mechanic!’ Victoria said.
“My poor Piesdepato was so upset that she left her two sisters. O’Leary and her friend were still talking. If anyone found out she was related to the hideous creature that had broken into the ball they would kick her out too, she thought.
“My youngest daughter tried to get out from under the table and follow her, but Rosa forced her to stay down. God gave her a mouth. Why didn’t she explain to Rosa what she was doing there and where I was? Then Rosa would have known how to help her. She’s so stupid. She hunches down and scurries out of one’s view without saying a word, trying to make herself invisible. Victoria had crossed the hall trying to get away of them and Rosa kept walking around the table, kicking her sister to keep her from coming out. She noticed that O’Leary and her friend were now pointing at them, laughing. The tablecloth wasn’t long enough. They could see the toad I was given for a daughter squatted beneath, and they mocked Rosa’s desperate attempts to hide her. Rosa did what anyone else would have done in her place; you cannot blame her: she pulled the tablecloth lower. Unfortunately, there was this big oil lamp with a paper screen on that table. The lamp fell over and the screen caught fire. Rosa tried to put the fire out, she used her own shawl, but the shawl also caught fire, and upon smelling the smoke and seeing her sister step on her shawl, the chimp hiding underneath came out from under the table, turning it over. The lamp fell to the floor and broke, spilling combustible fluid over the floor. The fire extended to another table. Rosa didn’t know what to do. She ran away before anyone could blame her. People started to panic. The waiters rushed to put out the fire, but with everyone trying to get out of the hall at the same time, they couldn’t reach the table before the fire extended to the curtains. Everyone started to run at the same time.”
“The whole pier burnt down,” interrupted the priest.
“If she was going to burn down a pier she should have burned the one of Mr. Kinney’s, Father, not the one of his competitor! I could see the light and the smoke from where I was. I didn’t know what was happening. I was too weak to row myself back and I was still hoping my daughter would come back with the bezoar. And it had gotten so cold, Father. I was left alone, all night, drifting in the middle of the lagoon. It wasn’t until the sun came out that she came back for me. My throat had gotten so sore, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tell her how much pain I was in. I couldn’t even swallow. I had developed a fever… I wished I could have made it to Halloween, Father. I had a small list of evil deeds I’d committed. I thought the Devil would be so happy. But now I am afraid. I realize that the end is near and that I must repay my debt with the Little Master.
“An eternity in Hell is not worth his gifts, I realize now. I caused so much pain throughout the years and what did I accomplish? Nothing. I’m old, I’m sick, I’m about to die and I have nothing else but this house to leave to my daughters. My enemies are still alive. Can I still be forgiven? I am terribly afraid, Father. I will spend all eternity burning in Hell unless I obtain God’s pardon. I want to die in contrition. Please, Father, give me your absolution before it is too late, before he comes to get me!”
The priest tried but couldn’t utter one word. He needed a glass of water, something, a candy to help him pass the bitter lump that had
formed in his throat. He turned to the young girl. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. Still he couldn’t force himself to enunciate one word. He reached for the cross in his rosary, more for self-protection against the witch than to give her absolution.
“There he is!” the witch yelled suddenly, pointing towards the window.
Her scream made the priest scream as well. He pulled his feet up and covered his face with his Bible. A black buck, the witch’s old familiar, had appeared outside the window, standing tall on two feet, like a man, his forelegs reclined on the sill, happier than he had ever been, ready to take the mother’s soul to the abyss.
The witch raised herself on her bed, pulling strength out of nowhere. “Hurry up, Father. Give me your absolution!”
But the priest couldn’t move a muscle. He was paralyzed. Frozen in terror.
The goat showed his teeth in a horrendous grin. They no longer were the flat choppers of caprine cattle, but the sharp, long teeth of a canine—a wolf’s denture! And his eyes no longer bore the doleful complacency of a servant, but the murdering shine of a beast craving for human blood.
“He’s coming for me!” cried the witch.
Rosa and Victoria screamed too, as if it was they who the goat intended to take, and ran to hide under the dining table. The third was more sapient. She climbed over her mother’s bed and pulled the curtains closed.
That was of little help, however, for now the goat appeared under the mother’s bed. He showed his teeth again, stuck his tongue out like a wretched child, and winked to the terrified priest.
“He’s going to take me!”
The young girl fetched one of the mother’s slippers and hit the goat repeatedly on his head until it retreated under the bed.
But now a pair of long hairy arms appeared from the other side of the bed and reached to the mother’s shoulders.
“Father—!”
One hand slowly pulled the sheets off the woman’s body, while the other caressed her face gently.
The young girl threw herself over and bit one of the hands.
The goat’s head appeared now behind the headboard. The girl pushed the bars with all her strength to squeeze the monster against the wall. But now a second head and a second pair of arms appeared by the footboard and grabbed the witch by her ankles. The girl pulled back, trying to stop these new menaces. The head behind the baseboard bit her shoulder. The mother clasped both hands to the bars. Now there were three different pairs of hairy arms pulling her from every direction.
“Father, please! Give me your absolution!”
“I—I—I…” was the only thing that the terrified priest could utter.
The young girl kept fighting the goat, but the fiend was far too strong. He grabbed the girl by her neck and flung her against the wall. Then, pushing the bed over on its side, he came from underneath, grabbed the witch by one leg and pulled her body towards the entrance.
“¡Mami!” cried the two elder daughters when they saw the beast come out of the bedroom.
The demon had only one head now, but still three pairs of arms and four hands clung to the woman’s body.
“D-d…d…do you…do y-you be-be-believe—?” asked the clergyman from within the witch’s bedroom.
“Yes!” cried the witch.
The goat had reached the main door. He turned the knob with his mouth and pushed the door open.
“I believe in God and in the Holy Trinity,” the witch yelled, her hands clenched to the doorway. The goat pulled harder. “I believe in Jesus Christ. I believe in the Holy Spirit. I believe in the purity of Mary—I repent! Hurry up, Father, give me your absolution!”
The goat stepped out through the doorway. The city lights dimmed, turning the moonless night even darker. A black whirlpool had formed in the middle of the canal and from the bottom of it came a mixture of black fumes and sparks, revealing an entrance to a subterranean forge.
The goat gave a stronger pull, yanking the woman free of the door frame. Just then, the young girl, who still refused to surrender, caught her mother’s arm with one hand as she held to the door molding with the other.
“¡Mamá!” Victoria cried from under the table. “Please don’t leave us!”
“Pull harder!” Rosa yelled to her little sister. “Don’t let her go!”
The goat was the one that pulled harder, though. The young girl felt her fingers slip from the door, one by one. She locked her feet to the doorway and grabbed for whatever thing she could reach, which unfortunately happened to be the witch’s finest piece of drapery.
“No!” cried Victoria. “Mamá’s curtains from Paris!”
“My very expensive curtains from Paris,” the witch raised her head. “You’re going to ruin them!”
The curtains started to rip.
“Let go!” cried the mother.
But the girl held on.
Truth be told, the fabric wasn’t exactly from Paris; but it had been just as expensive as if truly imported from France, and touted as legitimately French by the clerk who had sold them to the mother.
The priest found the strength to step out of the witch’s room and pull himself to the entrance. “Do you repent of your sins?”
“Yes!” cried the witch. “I repent with all my heart, Father—Let go of my curtains, you stupid child!”
“Do you renounce Satan and accept our Lord Jesus Christ as your savior?” the priest continued.
“Yes! I do repent, I accept Jesus with all my heart!”
“God, the Father of all mercies…” started the priest.
“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” the witch hollered to her daughter.
“…through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins…”
“MY CURTAINS FROM PARIS…!”
The witch bit her daughter’s hand, but no matter how fierce she sounded, or how much her teeth hurt, the young girl refused to let her go.
“You’re running Mami’s curtains!” Rosa kicked the young girl.
Victoria joined the fight too, giving her little sister a couple of knocks on her head.
The goat kept pulling. Eventually, the pressure was too much and the curtains tore. The young girl fell to the floor and hit her jaw, chopping off the tip of her tongue in the process. The pain was too much. She let her mother’s hand go.
“MY CURTAINS!”
The cry was like the barking of the Trojan queen, threatening the Greeks for her enslavement and the death of her children.
“A CURSE ON YOU!” the witch continued as the goat dragged her across the yard towards the crack in the middle of the canal. “A CURSE ON YOU AND ALL YOUR DESCENDANTS! YOU’RE NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU’RE A BEAST! The plague on you! May you age unloved and alone, and may you rot in hell, forever! Father, don’t forget the oil!” the witch howled, remembering she hadn’t yet obtained her absolution.
The whirlpool grew to the shape of a beast’s muzzle. A few demons poked their heads up out of the hole and gestured obscenely at the priest.
“Through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace.” The priest reached for the vial of consecrated oil inside his jacket. “I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
And just before the goat gave one last pull to jump inside the infernal mouth with his bounty, the priest splashed a few drops of consecrated oil on the penitent woman’s head. The moment the oil touched her skin, the demon let go. He looked back, terrified by the power vested in the Father, and jumped alone into the canal. The waters closed behind him. Just as fast as the mouth disappeared, the little demons left behind vanished in clouds of dust and sparkles.
Rosa and Victoria ran to the moribund woman.
“My beautiful daughters,” the woman said, in
a much calmer voice. “My two angels. My kittens. I thank the Lord for letting me say goodbye to you. Victoria, let me kiss your hand. Let me see your beautiful eyes. You were always my favorite… I die now, in peace.”
And she perished.
“Passio Domini nostri Jesu Christi, merita Beatae Mariae Virginis et omnium sanctorum, quidquid boni feceris vel mali sustinueris sint tibi in remissionem peccatorum, augmentum gratiae et praemium vitae aeternae. Amen,” the priest concluded.
All of a sudden, the clouds above opened up revealing a starry firmament. Everything acquired a flushed tonality and a soft breeze caressed the faces of the two girls as the ghost of their mother raised from her dead body straight to heaven.
“I’ll be watching you, my daughters,” the spirit murmured.
She looked as young and pure as she must have looked on the day of her marriage. She had obtained God’s forgiveness.
“We repent too, Father,” cried the two sisters. “We don’t want to burn in Hell. Give us your blessing!”
6
In which the two eldest sisters move to the city
Oh despair! Oh misfortune! When the witch’s husband returned to the house the next morning, he was hit by the smell of marigolds and burning candles. He entered the house and saw the long faces of the three girls, his in-laws, and his neighbors all standing against the wall, and the body of his wife set on the dining table, dressed in her wedding gown, surrounded by flowers. He fell on his knees, asking for forgiveness.
“Why, oh Lord! Why did you have to take her?”
Cries, whimpers, and sorrow!
Everyone stepped aside. The drunkard reeked of beer and urine. He fooled none of the mourners in the room, not the way his wife had for all those years.
Someone whispered into the ear of another: “Poor Antonia! Married to this awful man who did not deserve her! What will become of the poor girls?”
“The two elder will end up in the streets, you’ll see. Selling their bodies.”
Love, or the Witches of Windward Circle Page 7
