Hell Calling (7 page)

“Daddy, help! It hurts, it really hurts! Help me, Daddy, Help me!”

And before he knew it, he could feel hands around his neck, and his right arm, gripping onto him, making him lose control of the vehicle. Terrified by what he was hearing and seeing through the rear-view mirror, he barely noticed as he crashed into a tree.

XXXII

The doctor observed Carlos attentively, whilst the latter appeared to be recovering consciousness.

“Well... in the end, it’s not been that serious; less so, since the impact was not at high speed...”

Whilst his blurry vision became more clear, Carlos was able to ascertain that the man was not talking to him, but somewhere over to his left, to another person.

“Thank you very much, doctor. This has been a terrible shock...”

Carlos started to gesture, but his dazed state prevented him from completing the motion, and then his voice came out like a sort of light grunt.

“Well, it looks like we’re waking up,” said the doctor, in tones of irony.

“What... what’s happened to me?”

“Don’t you remember? You’ve had a little traffic accident, less than three hours ago.”

“I think... I think so,” he responded, and then those horrifying images came flooding back to his mind.

“You’re wife came immediately.”

Elena bolted upright in her seat, and waved a clumsy and nervous ‘no’ with her hands.

“No, no, doctor. I’m not his wife. I’m simply a close friend.”

“Elena?...” asked Carlos, pleasantly surprised.

“Hey there, champ. They called me because you had my card in your jacket pocket... Your father’s on his way here, but he already knows it’s nothing serious.”

The doctor cleared his throat briefly, to add:

“You’ll have to rest for a couple of days, and go easy on your thorax, in addition to taking care with your neck. If you experience any nausea, or any kind of persistent pain after leaving the hospital, don’t even think twice about it, come straight back here. You only have a minor dislocation caused by the seatbelt, and some cuts on the face as a result of the airbag. Nothing important. Now I’m going to carry on visiting my other patients, so I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Carlos hurried to say.

No sooner had the doctor left, Elena sat down on the bed and ran her hand through Carlos’ hair.

“That was quite a scare you gave me...”

“Thank you so much for coming. You didn’t have to go to any trouble. Telling my father would have been enough.”

“Hey! You’re a walking disaster; how did you managed to have such a ridiculous accident? Something more serious could have happened to you.”

He almost didn’t want to remember, but the awful images were still very present on his retina.

“Something unbelievable happened to me. Elena, I saw my daughter in the back seat of my car, exactly as I dreamed I saw Alicia when they had the accident. She was... so real...”

Elena did not know what to say. This story, in which she was now an active participant, had too many perspectives from which to be seen, although she would prefer to continue trusting the word of this tormented man.

“I understand... and you lost control of the car...”

Carlos didn’t know if he should continue down this route, even though the way in which Elena was listening denoted full confidence in what he said.

“No, it wasn’t like that exactly. Although the sight of my daughter did shake me up, that’s not the reason why I had the accident. Then, at some point, I felt as if she pounced on me, angry, but it was as if she wasn’t in control of her actions. She grabbed me by the neck and one of my arms with an enormous strength, as if she wanted to prevent me from being able to drive.”

Elena considered those words. In a way, it all fitted. If Carlos had lost all reason, then his lost mind was making a fine job of coming up with a perfectly clear interpretation that showed no weakness.

“Perhaps she wanted to hurt you?”

“No, no... I think it was something else, my daughter was not... in control of her actions. Besides, her voice sounded... as if there was another person inside her, another person taking her over right down to her core, whilst she fought...”

Carlos could not hold back a bitter and desperate sob. What had happened that morning had been much worse than the nightmares, what he had heard through the radio-alarm clock, and anything else so far.

“Take it easy, Carlos. Rest, and we’ll talk more calmly tonight. Right now, it’s best that you rest.”

He stretched out his neck, as if trying to get rid of some internal, non-specific pain. It was then that Elena could see the marks.

“What’s that?” she asked, coming even closer to Carlos.

“What?” he replied, a little shocked by her look of surprise.

“Those marks...”

Carlos allowed Elena to inspect his neck.

“They’re... they’re like very deep finger marks... from one hand... They’re bruises caused by a little hand... like a child’s...”

They both looked at each other, shocked, but at the same time united in a communion that they had been unable to have until that very instant. They were united by the conviction that, in some way, the hypothesis of insanity was beginning to lose its strength.

XXXIII

The Mass had been quick, and almost enjoyable. Carlos was waiting on a bench at the back of the church, in the shadows. He knew some of the people there, in addition to his father, and it seemed curious to him that all of them met at the ‘community’ every Saturday to pray, and then again on Wednesdays to discuss their issues. Christians were very curious: fragments within fragments, each included within the same religion. He had always thought that faith stretched, adapted, and made anything possible, whenever the perpetuation of the worship of God was in question.

He still felt pain in his chest, neck and arm, although it was fading incredibly quickly. It was almost with pleasure that each mark on his neck, or arm, reminded him of Elena’s expression; an expression of fear, although it was also the expression of one discovering something they have spent a long time yearning to find.

“Meditating?”

The question jerked him out of his reverie. A tall and corpulent man, with a dark complexion and a wide smile, was watching him from the central aisle of the church. They were the only two people left.

“I’m sorry...?”

“No, please, forgive me. I’m Padre Salas,” he added, offering his hand. “Your father told me where you were, and has preferred not to intervene at all: he’s waiting outside.”

“Yes, okay... I don’t know if you heard about the accident...”

“I have, terrible news.”

Carlos felt disorientated. It was like being trapped in a strange web. In spite of everything, this man, with a pleasant gaze projected a strength and security that immediately transformed into confidence.

“I’m sorry, I’m still a little shaken up.”

“I understand. Mind if I sit next to you?”

“No, of course not...”

Padre Salas looked towards the altar, and then brought his hands together in front of his lips.

“Although it’s been years since I practised, I still like people to call me Padre... I think of it as a detail...”

“That’s okay...”

“We’re here to talk openly. If the Devil exists, then this is not the place where he would feel the most at home,” he said, laughing.

Carlos turned his surprised face towards the Mexican.

“If the Devil exists?”

“Mr Miranda, I believe in God, I can assure you, but I also have my questions. If you think you’re talking to a man with no doubts, then you’d better think again.”

“No... it’s alright...”

“You also had faith at one point, your father told me. Then the doubts crept in, followed by the certainty that there wasn’t anything... outside of this world. Now the doubts are returning, aren’t they?”

Carlos waited an indeterminable amount of time before responding. He hoped to absorb the reprimand this stranger was throwing at him, perhaps if only to provoke him, perhaps if only to make himself complicit.

“A lot of the time I don’t know what to think, but what I do know is that I’m having more and more doubts about what I believe in.”

“And you’re increasingly more sure that your daughter is trapped in Hell, is that so?”

“Yes.”

“And how did you come that that conclusion?”

“I don’t know: you’re the priest. “

The man contained a faint smile. After each sentence, he always turned his face back towards the altar, as if seeking inspiration from the image of Christ.

“I have carried out some exorcisms, but that was many years ago now. It’s a terrible experience, and that’s why I left the priesthood and came to Spain. Like I told you, I also have my doubts. It never ceases to intrigue me that no matter how developed a country is, however many fewer cases of possession, miracles, or apparitions... there’s...”

“That would go to prove that they’re just an invention of man.”

“It’s possible. Like I said, it’s intriguing. But, at the same time, in the developed countries you get the clearer, more evident cases: educated people, like yourself, who experience strange things; people who don’t even believe in God, and then one day they find that their empirical and sensory world can’t provide an answer for a concrete fact...”

Carlos looked intensely at Padre Salas. He found himself with an intelligent person, of agile tongue, and very much in control of his own words.

“It’s incredible, but I get the feeling that you’ve prepared for this little meeting.”

“Not really, no. I’m actually a little afraid, to tell you the truth.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes, afraid. On the one hand, getting myself involved in something like this again doesn’t thrill me in the slightest, although Esteban, your father, deserves to have me make the effort; on the other hand... like I said, I’d like you to tell me how your daughter’s ended up in Hell.”

“Well, my father’s already told you...”

“I know, I know. I just want to hear your version which, I’m sure after everything that’s happened, you have ready.”

“Well... I believe my daughter was being tormented for some time. There are some drawings that demonstrate that. I also spoke with a friend of hers from school, who confirmed Laura’s fears. She had nightmares, and felt like she was being pursued... Then there’s the dream I had...”

Padre Salas became restless in his seat.

“A dream? Very interesting...”

“Yes. I dreamt that on the day of the accident, some spectral beings took over my daughter. That then caused my wife to lose control of the vehicle, and...”

“Just like what happened to you this very morning... Your father’s already told me.”

“Yes. I saw my own daughter... possessed.”

The priest got up, and took a walk down the main aisle of the church, towards the altar. Carlos followed him instinctively.

“Possessed... possessed... How do you know that? How do you know that she was possessed?”

“Well... I don’t actually know. But her eyes, the restlessness in her body, her voice...”

“Your father wants me to help you, but what he doesn’t know is that this is something completely new for me. It’s unknown territory, although I do plan to help you.”

“But you yourself told me that in the past...”

“I told you that in the past I’ve performed exorcisms, yes, but not long-distance. I’ve always had the person in front of me; I’ve always been able to supervise them. I’ve always been able to see if it was genuine or they were just faking it, because I had the possessed person before my eyes. Your case is very different...”

That man made Carlos see, for the first time, a truth that until that moment, he hadn’t even bothered to uncover. The man was, at the same time, demonstrating that he had taken his case very seriously and he was going to fight with him to the very limits of his capabilities.

“And does anything come to mind?”

“Like I said, I’ll help you. Firstly, I need to do some studying, make a few calls, prepare myself and take precautions. Then I’ll visit your house.”

“Precautions?”

Padre Salas looked once more towards the altar before responding, only differently this time, and when he turned his face back towards Carlos, his expression was firmly serious and frank.

“Was your daughter bad?”

“I don’t understand you...”

“I mean, what sort of things did she used to do? Did she like hurting others?”

“I... I hardly knew her, but no, please, my daughter was a child... she was precious... and good... Although the more I learn, the less I know what to think...”

“Look, the Devil doesn’t choose his neighbours by chance. If someone is in Hell, it’s because something’s happened to make them deserve it, do you understand? Forgive my candour. I believe that if your daughter really is in Hell, it’s because she was bad: bad in the fullest sense of the word, and cruel. Now we have to find out if she was so by choice, or if it was because she had been taken over by a demon.”

XXXIV

He didn’t know Ana all that well, although they had met on more than one occasion at either his house or hers, for some party or dinner. It was for that reason that it was such a terrible effort to call her and find some excuse to have coffee together, under the very superficial proviso of wishing to talk about Alicia and her relationship with Laura. The woman, albeit somewhat bewildered, had accepted, most surely obliged by her friend’s memory and, in all the time she had known him, Carlos had never bothered her all that much.

He waited for her, seated on a central terrace to a café where they had agreed to meet. While he waited, Carlos entertained himself by contemplating the people: everyday people, running around like he himself had been doing not all that long ago, until his whole life had taken an inexplicable turn.

“Hello, Carlos...”

Ana brought him back from his reverie with a nervous smile. She was a young woman, jovial, intelligent, and professional, with whom Alicia had struck up a unique and unusual friendship.

“Ana! Please, take a seat... I’m so pleased to see you. You look wonderful.”

“Oh... thank you very much.”