I hold tight to the church pamphlet Doña Petra gave me. Inside the pamphlet are various prayers and simple Taíno symbols. Greetings to the gods, she said. I fold the pamphlet and tuck it back into my pocket.
“Are you a believer?” Doña Petra asked before I left.
I told her the truth. I had to.
“I want to believe,” I say. “This is all new to me.”
“They will use your lack of faith to their advantage,” she said. “Think of the things you are afraid to lose. They will know.”
“Tell him before he goes,” the old man said.
Doña Petra hesitated. “Eury está viva pero pronto tendrá hambre.”
Eury was still alive! I knew it the minute I saw her lying there on the sterile hospital bed that she wasn’t gone.
“If she tastes their food, Eury will remain in el Inframundo,” Doña Petra said.
“How much longer?” I asked.
“No mucho,” she said. “Apúrate que el tiempo se te escapa.”
Time escapes me. If I stop to think about what was said and what happened even for just a second, I will question everything. I can’t. Pops waits by the Kingsbridge Armory. I head back to the scene, back to the place where Eury was taken.
Club Dīs-traction.
Evil lurks in every crevice of this place. It lingers and becomes a beacon for the dead, an entryway to the bridge that connects earth to el Inframundo. This is how Doña Petra explained it to me.
As I approach the massive armory, my anxiety increases. Somewhere within the building, I must make contact with Charon. The cab stops at one end of the immense structure. Pops waits for me at the corner.
“You have your guitar,” Pops says when I greet him. “Good. Let’s go.”
Some at Casita Rincón argued Pops shouldn’t accompany me to the start of the journey. Doña Petra disagreed.
“He knows the way.”
I was so confused when she said that. What else do I not know about Pops? I need information, and I don’t think a church pamphlet with a few verses is going to help. We walk at a steady clip toward the entrance of the club.
“You’ve been to el Inframundo before.”
“Not directly,” he says. “I’ve led people to the bridge.”
“How come I don’t know this about you? I mean, what the hell,” I say, raising my voice because this endless night continues to bring up disturbing surprises. “This is kind of a big deal. Maybe I should have been made aware of how you are connected to spirits?”
Pops stops walking. He stares intensely at me. I am acting out of pocket, but then, who cares? Everything is out of pocket. From seeing Ato to losing Eury to the folks in las casitas to me even entertaining the idea of el Inframundo existing. To find out Pops has a connection to this is almost too much to bear.
“My travels to the bridge have been dictated and led by violence and pain. They are personal to the individuals I guide to their final place. It is not on me to share their journey with you or anyone,” he says. “I will be honest with you—only the dead go to el Inframundo. You are going against the grain. You understand?”
He is firm with me, not angry but direct, and yet I still feel as if I’m in trouble. I grew up not believing in any of this to now find out my own father has ties to the unexplainable. I shouldn’t be going after Eury. I know nothing but a few chords and some bachata songs.
“How am I going to do this?”
“With this.” He points to my heart.
I let out a loud sigh. I’m going to fail.
“Do you trust your father?” Pops lifts my chin up. “I promise to lead you to Charon. What they said en las casitas is true. Think of your history books, the evil caused by men. The misery only magnifies where we are heading. It manifests in things too horrific to describe. I’m not sugarcoating it. I’m afraid for both of us.”
I shake my head. I don’t think Pops understands how pep talks are meant to go.
He digs in his pocket and pulls out the ceramic elephant always situated by the apartment door.
“Every day, you touch this before entering the apartment. You’ve been doing this ever since you were a little kid. The elephant is meant to bring you good luck. Continue to acknowledge the gatekeepers and show them respect,” he says. “You have strength flowing from you. Your ancestors will be with you, as will I. Find solace in this. What do you have of Eury’s?”
I show him the small rosary I took when I went to see Eury at the hospital.
“Your name is Orpheus,” he says. “Remember your gift.”
No one ever really calls me Orpheus. The only person who called me that was Grandma Lynn in North Carolina. When I last saw Grandma Lynn, she could barely see. Moms said the cancer was taking over. She was the first person close to me to become sick. I was so timid around her, like I was afraid anything I said or did would contribute to her suffering. When I said my goodbyes, Grandma Lynn said to me: “You are named after Orpheus, who was a powerful singer and poet. You will be a beautiful singer too.”
Here is Pops invoking the moment in Grandma Lynn’s bedroom when she blessed me.
“I will. I’ll remember where I came from.” The tiny ceramic elephant is now secure in my pocket beside the church pamphlet and Eury’s rosary.
We press on.
It’s almost 4:30 in the morning. The streets are empty except for the occasional straggler. Workers heading home from a late shift. A dressed-up couple laughs, entering an apartment building. A man nods a hello to us before walking by. Soon, Dīs-traction comes into focus. There are no crowds lined up or bodyguards holding them back. The neon sign is unlit.
I shake my shoulders and roll them a bit. I look down at my shoes and wish I had time to change into Timbs. Dress shoes do not instill confidence. I try to rub out the dried bloodstains sprinkled throughout my suit but there’s no point. I’m entering the unknown as is.
“Ready?” Pops asks.
The Kingsbridge Armory is so large, two full-sized football fields could fill the drill floor. The armory was once used to store weapons, bombs, and ammunition. Over the years, the place has hosted boxing fights and a four-hundred-foot shooting range. Residuals of violence can be found in every brick, and I’m walking right into it. So be it. Eury doesn’t belong here or down in el Inframundo. And that’s the truth.
“Yes, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
I walk up to the door of the club only to find it unlocked. This scares the shit out of me because it means whoever is behind the door is surely expecting visitors.
“Hello?” I say. Pops follows behind.
The chairs are not up on the tables like they would be in most restaurants after closing. An uneasy feeling fills the air, a denseness I can’t place. One overhead lamp beams from the now-empty restaurant. I walk toward it.
A hostess appears from within the darkness. She wears the same uniform from earlier in the night and carries a glass filled with what looks like red wine.
“We are here to see Charon,” I say.
Something’s amiss. As she draws nearer, the horror takes shape. Once she passes the overhanging spotlight, I get a good look at her.
“Oh my god,” I say. Tremors take over my hands, spreading to my arms, my legs.
The server is missing a jaw. Half her face is torn off. Bones and crusted, bloody skin hang loose. Her eyes match the blood.
Behind me, Pops mutters to himself. A prayer. A spell. I don’t know.
I never prayed before.
No. That’s not true. When my parents told me they were separating, I prayed that night. I thought it was my fault they couldn’t stay together. Every kid does this. They go through all the times their parents argued and make a list of when they were in the center of that argument. My list wasn’t long, but still.
While I heard my father pack up his things, I lay in my bedroom praying he would change his mind. I didn’t even have any idea who I was praying to. I swore to listen and stop fooling around if this god would
keep my parents together. Foolish promises any kid would make.
How will prayers help me now?
CHAPTER 26
Eury
When Ato sleeps, he looks like an angel, and yet as I lie beside him, I am restless. I do my best not to wake him. The sky slowly lightens. Day will break soon. I grab a blanket and wrap myself with it. I step outside in search of the coquís.
The coquís aren’t the only things missing. Although there is an abundance of vegetation and greenery, no insects can be found. No mosquitos. No flies. No bees. None. It’s not possible to eat ripe fruit without bugs to pester you. Nothing here quite makes sense. I shouldn’t complain. I know I shouldn’t be looking for faults, but I feel imbalanced, unsure. The ground doesn’t seem sturdy enough to keep me erect.
This silence feels so strange. Are we isolated from others? How is that even possible? Where are the people? Have they found their own piece of paradise, hidden from view?
I continue to walk. Not too far away. I don’t want to alarm Ato. He’s been so patient with me. The colors from the blooming flowers seem otherworldly. It is as if a painter worked overnight while we slept to highlight each petal with a vibrant tone. It doesn’t seem real.
Perhaps I am unworthy of such beauty. If I am only searching for mistakes, maybe I am the one who doesn’t belong here. I need to let go of this weakness. There is nothing wrong with this life, this place. I have a home and Ato beside me. What more can I ask?
I pluck a few flowers to bring inside. I want Ato to know I appreciate everything he does. I will try harder to enjoy my surroundings and let go of this apprehension.
As I approach the house, I see him. His back is to me. Even from where I stand, I can tell his muscles are tense.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I join him. Ato stares up at our tree.
“They are not supposed to be here,” he says.
The llorosas stare down at us. Their wings serve as coats. Hundreds of them line the branches of the large tree. Whenever I see them, I only feel peace.
“They are not bothering us. They keep me company while you are away.”
Ato searches for a wooden stick. I try to grab it away from him, but he is too quick. He takes one large swing against the trunk of the tree. The birds take to the sky, their wings making a thunderous sound.
“Why, Ato?”
“They are not meant to be here.”
“Are we supposed to be here? You sound ridiculous.”
I turn away from him. He follows me into the house.
“Get away from me. It’s hard to talk to you when you act this way,” I say. “The llorosas are tiny. What can they do to us?”
Ato tries to hold me.
“Why are you so troubled? Isn’t being here enough? Being together?” he asks. “This place has everything you ever wanted. What did I overlook? Tell me.”
He takes a carambola from the bowl I placed on the kitchen table. He cuts a large piece and dangles it in front of me.
“Here, Eury. This will make you forget the birds.” He urges me to eat. My dread feels like a growing pit in my stomach. Like a virus. A cancer.
I hold the piece of fruit. Everything about it is perfect, from its strong citrusy smell to the pulp filled with juice. I’m not hungry. Not even a little bit.
The leader of the llorosas appears in the kitchen window. In my mind I have invented a whole life for her. She is a fearless leader protecting her flock. We are connected somehow. I don’t know how, but I know this to be true. The llorosas are the only animals I see out here. Perhaps we met in another lifetime. Perhaps I was once a llorosa soaring in the sky in search of others to protect. Maybe I was lost and she found me. The llorosa tilts her head, giving me a quizzical look.
Ato is wrong. There is nothing malicious about this bird.
I place the fruit on the palm of my hand and offer it to the bird. The bird is reluctant, but eventually she props herself close to my palm and pecks at the fruit. She doesn’t hurt me with her pointy beak.
“No!” Ato flies into a rage. He reaches for the bird. The llorosa escapes toward our tree. Ato runs outside, and I chase him.
“Leave her alone. She’s not hurting us.”
Ato doesn’t answer. It is as if he’s become possessed. I grab his hand. He shoves me to the ground. He swings at the llorosa with the wooden stick. He misses. Ato swings again, this time making contact. The stick hits the bird in midflight. She goes down.
I scream.
Ato turns to face me. He no longer has an angelic face. His eyes are completely black. He is unrecognizable, transformed and mutated. A monster.
He holds the cane, raised above his head, about to strike at the bird again.
I run inside, grab the knife, and rush toward him.
“Leave the bird alone!” I aim the knife. “I don’t know you. I don’t know a thing about you. Get out of here!”
Ato drops the stick. His face slowly returns to the person I am familiar with, but I can still see remnants of his true nature. He drops to his knees. Tears stream down his face. I don’t believe them. This is all part of an elaborate act. My hand stays firmly clasped around the knife.
“Eury. I would never harm you,” he pleads. His voice rings like a chorus. A melody meant to calm my temper. He will do the same to me as he did to the llorosa. “Please believe me. I’m only protecting you. Us.”
“I don’t recognize you or this place,” I say.
I look at the house. This is where I grew up. Every object in this home is one I’ve seen before, and yet it feels like an empty shell. None of it rings true.
“Don’t come near me.”
Ato pleads. I hold steadfast. I will not break.
CHAPTER 27
Pheus
The jawless server draws nearer, and I want to run. Pops is behind me. His presence gives me a bit of courage, enough for me to stay.
“We’re here to see Charon.” I sound like a weakling no matter how much I try to come off as hard. Blood drips from the hostess’s mouth. She keeps coming.
More servers appear. Jawless men and women. Bodyguards missing half their faces. Skin falling off. They show themselves along the bar, by the tables. Hundreds of them. The men are tall, every single one cut to the bone. No shirt to flex what’s what. These faceless creatures, beasts, are gunning for us. I don’t have a weapon, not a damn thing but a guitar. Like a fool, I raise my fists. I will punch whoever comes close.
“Tell Charon Apolo wants to see him,” Pops says. “I seek passage for my son.”
The jawless things completely surround us. My chin is raised up. If I go down, I’ll take ’em with me. But my fists are trembling, and I notice the rapidness of my breathing. Pops places his hand over my fists and lowers them.
“Don’t even think about it. You will be devoured and become one of them.”
“So what the hell do we do?”
“We wait.”
The jawless creatures bump against me. They egg me to make the first move. There is a stench of rotten, burning flesh. Bile rises up in me. There is a frenzy. The things want to tear into us, and they will. It’s only a matter of time. I hold Eury’s prayer bracelet in my hand and the elephant statue in the other. I squeeze them both tight.
From behind a velvet curtain, a man materializes, completely unkempt, with a scraggly beard and wild eyes. His jaw is intact. He wears piles of clothes in shades of brown and holds a cane made of gold. If I would have seen him out in the streets, I wouldn’t have even thought to look his way. He looks like every homeless person I’ve seen before in New York. The only difference is this man exudes authority. He is the leader of these gruesome creatures, so the wide smile he displays only makes me shudder even more.
“It’s been a minute, Apolo. Who is it you got with you?” Charon says. “He smells a little too unripe, not done enough for passage.”
Behind Charon is Sileno, the owner of Dīs-traction, with a bandage wrapped around his head. Seeing his ugly horse face
brings everything into focus. I want to kick his ass for whatever he did to Eury.
“Ahh, el Nuevo Nene de la Bachata. This boy can sing,” Sileno exclaims. “How’s Eury doing?”
“Come closer, and I’ll show you exactly how she’s doing,” I say. “Deadass.”
Sileno snickers, and that just pisses me off even more. I go to bum-rush him, but Pops holds me back.
The jawless men step aside. This allows Charon to take a closer look at me. He smells of rotting flesh too. Is that what he’s concealing underneath all the layers?
“You can’t pass unless you are dead,” Charon says. “Easy enough. We’ve got you covered.”
Charon pulls out a machete from underneath his long, tattered coat. The machete is covered in dried blood. His army waits for his bidding. They sway back and forth like boxers standing by for the first-round bell to ring.
This is it? I’m going down at this moment? Naw. This journey just started. Charon is going to take me across. I’m on a mission, and the leader of this death army is just part of this story. Doña Petra said to remember my name. I am Orpheus, and I can move mountains.
My father always taught me to stare at your opponent to let them know you are human. “Look them in the eyes. No matter what class, you are two men bound to walk this earth together.” But Pops also said to pay respect to the gatekeepers. Charon’s got all the cards. I am a nothing player, so I drop to my knees.
“I’m not worthy to be here, to be among your people,” I say. “There is a girl who was not meant to have crossed over. Her name is Eury. Ato took her way before her time.”
At the mention of Ato, Charon lowers the machete. He doesn’t put it away. I can see from the corner of my eye the blade is beside him.
“This is your domain,” I say. “Ato is trying to sneak one over on you.”
“Nobody gets past me,” Charon says.
He uses the tip of the machete to prove his point right on my shoulder. The tip manages to pierce through my suit and into my skin, but I don’t flinch. I take the pain.
“He speaks the truth,” Pops says. “Ato took the girl before her time.”
Never Look Back Page 15
