La Noche de la Chankla: La Muerte y el Viento
Chapter 18
Her eyes scanned the bed, having first believed that there were just clothes left upon it, seen peripherally. But the horror of the scene quickly asserted itself in her mind, and she screamed, uncharacteristically divorced from her normal stoicism. There, on the bed, lying as if it were watching TV, was a corpse, the corpse of Spider. His mouth hung open, from fear or pain she could not tell. The body was desiccated, almost rope-like with wisps of silken threads running along them, and she could discern small insects moving about upon it, as if it had been that way for days. His eyes were sunken in and a film had come over them, the film of something dead. And on what had once been his forearm, she could make out a mark, a mark that seared itself into her memory.
She heard the back screen door slam, and she hurriedly collected herself and left the room, making sure the door was closed behind her. She could not let Javier see what had happened to Spider. He came in to the hallway, looking apprehensive.
“Abuela, I heard you scream,” he said, clearly worried.
“Oh Javi, I … I …. a spider. I was cleaning, and a spider came from the roof onto my arm. I thought it was a recluse,” she told him, unable to hide that her hands were shaking. Luna did not lie and doing so now hurt her deeply. She rationalized it by telling herself that it was … a Spider, but she could not divulge the horror lying in his mother’s room to the boy … not yet. She knew it would scar his young soul lifelong and make him fear perpetually. “Go back outside and play with Hueso … before it starts raining again, mijo.”
Having never seen his grandmother that shaken up and knowing that she did not fear spiders, Javi was unsure as to whether or not he believed his abuelita’s story. But he knew that she would not lie to him, and he obeyed her suggestion to go back outside and play, soon letting the thought slip from his mind, as he drove his die-cast toy cars around the back patio.
With no idea what to do, Luna called Luz and Xochitl and told them to come as soon as they could. Then she sat on the couch in the living room and debated with herself as to how she was going to tell Luisa … and Javi. She asked herself how the tragedy could have befallen Spider under her roof with the moonstone so near. The house was protected. Then it came to her. The dream. The tunnels. Surtr. She reasoned that it had not been a dream. She had been there and Surtr had spoken to her and followed her back into world above ground, into her very house, where he found Spider unguarded, asleep and, somehow, exposed to the demon. It dawned upon her that, in that way, she had invited Surtr in and, thereby, rendered the moonstone powerless.
Her mind shot to Javier. As much as she mourned Spider, a feeling of relief raised her heart, knowing that the demon had not taken her nieto, or her daughter, instead. But then another sensation overcame the moment, as the thought that Surtr may still be there flooded her with fear and caused the hair to stand on the back of her neck. She had no idea how to discover if it were true. So she did all she could do. She recovered her moonstone from under Javi’s pillow and began to case the house, room to room, watching it carefully and letting herself feel any changes it might undergo. But nothing happened. She checked every square inch of the residence, but the moonstone remained static.
The doorbell rang, and Luna’s heart jumped into her throat. Taking a deep breath she reminded herself about Luz and Xochitl and went to answer the door.
* * *
“Madre mía!” Luz exclaimed.
Her sentiment was immediately echoed by Xochitl. “Dios mio! Qué horror! We can’t call la policía! What are we going to do? ”
“No, y no sé. Pero we cannot leave him in there,” Luna said, desperately. “Ja … Javier!”
“Ay, sí!” Luz agreed. “Xochitl! Go get Javier and take him to la tienda de helado. Luna and I will move … it … somewhere …when you’re gone”
“Sí,” Xochitl agreed.
Luna did not want Xochitl and Javier walking, out in the open and to attacks from the enemy, and she wanted Javier out of the house for the moment until she and Luz could ensure that Surtr, or whatever had killed Spider, was gone. “Take my car. Las llaves are on the hook in la cocina … Javier! Ven aqui!” she called as the women walked into the living room.
Javi came in and looked at them with confusion. It wasn’t that he was unused to seeing Luz and Xochitl there, but he had a feeling that something wasn’t right. “Yes, Abuela?”
“Tía Xochitl wants to go get ice cream. I know you love it, so go with her, mijo. Bring back some for us … vanilla,” Luna told him.
“Okay!” Javi answered, half excited by the thought of the ice cream and half still skeptical. But the desire for ice cream won out.
* * *
Once the brujas heard Xochitl and Javier pull out of the driveway, they hurried to hide the body. It was hard for them to look at it, the now desiccated form of Spider. As they began to fold the bed clothes over the corpse, a real spider crawled from the left nostril and climbed up what was once the cobweb tattoo on Spider’s head, a living homage to his nickname … almost mocking his death.
“What is that mark on the arm?” Luz asked, scrutinizing the scab-like symbol upon the dehydrated, ropish skin, as they bundled the body of the formerly 300 pound man, which was now light and brittle, making the women fearful that they might crush him.
“We have to find the meaning, Luz, but you creo it is Surtr.”
“Surtr? What is that?”
“I will tell you after we get him outside,” Luna promised.
As they maneuvered the corpse through the hallway and out through the backdoor, Luna, who was leading the way but walking backwards, lost her footing, misjudging the step. But Luz did not sense that Luna had stopped and, continuing with her pace, did not realize that the body was being folded and crushed into Luna. Luna, trying to avoid the collision and at a loss for words in the moment, tried to sidestep and completely lost her balance, falling into a lawn chair. The blankets opened and what was left of Spider, only a powdery residue, flew out into the air and rained down upon the patio, like ash from a fire pit.
The two brujas stood pale, staring at the remains of Spider and pondering the implications of this desecration upon his soul, when a sharp thunderclap made them both start, almost out of their skins. A wind picked up, and the remains of the man, who had wanted to portray himself as hard but had saved the brujas from the deprivations of the Hounds, were blown into the sands of the desert, forever lost.
“Te bendiga, Spider,” Luna whispered.
“Luna,” Luz turned to her, “Quien es Surtr?”
“Let us go to the computer before Javi and Xochitl come back,” Luna answered.
Putting the bedding in a large, black garbage bag, fearful that any lingering insects or arachnids might contain a residual malignancy, and leaving it in the little shed in the backyard, Luna led Luz back inside and brought up information about Surtr. The website she found contained the mark they had seen on Spider’s forearm, the mark of the fire giant.
“El Diablo,” Luz gasped.
“Yes and no,” Luna responded. “He is the one that the Norse legends say brings the Ragnarok, the end of the world.”
“No entiendo. None of that is real, Luna.”
“Ay Luz, what is real?” Luna answered earnestly. “The magic is real, and our friends have been taken from us. The dogs’ eyes were real. The two legs are real. What is to say that what they believe is not as real as what we believe? What if it is all the same … mismo? Something got into my house, following me from my dream … and it took Spider. What is realer than that?”
“But why? Why come here? What is there in Agape?”
“No sé, Luz. But there is some reason behind it, and we are the only ones who can stop it.”
“Ay, qué loco! Our magic is not for this, Luna. Nosotros estamos viejitas … We’re old, y tu estás una abuelita. Pos we can’t fight a fire giant and nahuals!”
“We have so far,” Luna stated deadpan. “We have el espirtu de mi madre, los piedras de luna, and the moon herself. We have the words.”
“Yes, we have the words … when they want to come.”
Luna had never heard Luz be so defeatist before, and, even given the magnitude of the current threat, she was taken aback by it, until the truth came to her. Luz was afraid, not just worried but deathly afraid, and she had every right to be.
“Luz, mi amiga, el mal will come for the town. It will come for us. There is no stopping that. Yes, we are viejitas, pero we are brujas and we have no choice but to fight it. We must protect the balance.”
A tear streamed down Luz’s face, and Luna could tell that Luz, her friend since childhood, was turning her fear to resolve. Luz knew as well as Luna that is was their obligation, their responsibility for the gift of channeling that they possessed. Finally, she smiled. “I guess we’ve lived long enough lives,” she said facetiously.
The door burst open and Javi and Xochitl came in bearing pints of ice cream.
“Vanilla, Abuela!” Javi declared, before seeing his abuela’s face, stopping in his tracks, and becoming silent, a feeling of something dire, an inexplicable weight besetting his former joviality, like nothing he’d ever experienced.
