Читать книгу Don'T Summon Them - Carlos Ramos, Carlos Ramos - Страница 6

Don’t Summon Them

Оглавление

For Adán, Hugo and Ramón,

for that trip to Xicuco

What would I have been thinking about at that time? I still didn’t understand why or what had been the reason that made me go with them that morning. I had seen that hill countless times and they had told me of the devil and his cave, but that was nothing new; all hills have a cave and a devil that dwells in it.

We had walked a lot but weren’t tired and the summit from where we would be able to see the city wasn’t far off. Right there, I suppose we must have begun to look for the cave, because none of us knew where it was, to the point that we even assumed it was a story made up by the local people. I still don’t know exactly how, whether by instinct, curiosity or perhaps because it was in our interests, but we found the way.

The first thing that impressed me was the shape of the entrance, as if it were the hill’s most intimate zone, and the second thing, the abundance of witchcraft-like objects that were strewn about the place. Don’t summon them, please, I heard in that moment, but no one else heard it.

We walked on, trying not to step on or move anything, not noticing the messages written on the walls. I noticed a strange smell, but I couldn’t tell exactly what it was. We also felt the pressure of something that made us breathe more deeply and become agitated. I heard the voice again, don’t summon them.

Once inside and perhaps a result of our imaginations, someone said he felt dizzy, another that his head hurt, and the third said he felt a pain that shot up his leg at the very moment he realised that he was walking on what had been a campfire and what seemed like melted sweets. I didn’t feel ill like the others but now I felt tired, maybe even sleepy. I tried not to think about what was in the cave, because I was reminded of my grandfather who said that sometimes bad things that are in our path latch onto us, but we must distance ourselves from them, not think about them, nor name them.

In all honesty, we only entered the first chamber of the cave. We didn’t want to continue because, to keep going, it was necessary to climb, and it was very dark. Our trip had been so unplanned that we barely brought water or any food. No one thought of taking a torch. With the flash of the camera, we tried to light up the next chamber, but we didn’t manage to see much.

Moreover, the people we had met on the way advised us to be careful, as several groups had got lost by choosing the wrong path. Those who didn’t get lost had even found money. Nevertheless, we preferred to return with everything, including the ailments we had.

We stopped to cut some branches off a peppercorn tree to brush over our bodies, as is customary, to ward off evil spirits. The others began to ‘cleanse’ themselves, but I didn’t end up joining them because I heard a truck passing very close and preferred to run after the noise. It was a pick-up truck that was carrying a whole family who were sat together in the rear of the vehicle. I explained where we had come from and asked them to take us to where they were going, otherwise we would have far to walk.

When we returned home, it was late and I was exhausted, so I had a bath and before long the tiredness overcame me. Just before I fell asleep, I heard a deep voice echoing in my ear that spoke to me in another language, but one that I understood: fuse with me. At that moment, my hair stood on end because at the same time, I heard a noise under the bed.

The next morning my dog didn’t recognise me, making it very difficult to take him for a walk as he kept running away from me. I had a strange sensation of being distanced from the world. I felt tired and was nostalgic for the hill. Sometimes I just wanted to sleep, that same feeling you get when you have depression, although I have never suffered from it myself. The second night after entering the cave, I woke up screaming. My parents spent a good deal of time by my side because I was unable to move about and again the voice, you’re here. I felt quite unwell. Dogs barked at me, terrified, the neighbour's cat bristled with fright when it saw me, and I noticed several shadows that were hovering around me.

The voices and noises under the bed continued, causing such desperation that I cried because my head hurt. I continued to have that feeling of not belonging to this world, of being taken little by little to somewhere I didn’t know. I didn’t eat. People who saw me said I was pale. I stopped seeing my friends with whom I had gone to the hill. I wasn’t myself or at least I had stopped being myself.

I was never superstitious, but in the condition in which I found myself, I began to believe that something had “stuck” to me, but what? It was contradictory, because in answering my question I would have to assume that there are beings, spirits or other things that go around doing evil, that there is life after death, that there is a whole, hidden world that can harm people. That confused me, but I still felt awful, and each day more I heard voices that whispered complete sentences to me. In places with light, I was afraid. I was terrified to look under the bed because there was a noise, a most chilling noise. I had the sensation that from that cave, several kilometres from me, someone had control over my life.

As the days passed, the nightmares continued. I saw shadows. I never saw their faces, but they told me to go with them. Then I began to see them while I was awake. My dog bit my hand because he was frightened to see me. I couldn’t sleep well, I was always restless, my hands were sweaty, and my body trembled.

I was taken to the hospital because it was getting worse day by day, but the pills didn’t work. It was unbearable to continue like this. Several times I tried to kill myself or kill what was inside me, which would be the same thing, but I failed. “Why?” they all asked me: when the world is uninhabitable, you will all understand why I think about suicide. They make me feel crazy when they are crazy. That’s why they took me to the psychologist, but he became bored with me; the voices in another language didn't convince him. My despair, my desire to stop this suffering caused him to distance himself from me. He ended the sessions and I continued in the same vein, between the shadows, anguish, and voices.

As it did not improve, they took me to a man who they said was healer. Upon entering his house, I was surprised by the number of jars and bottles, the smell, his clothes, his face. He made a circle of fire and there he began to ‘heal’ me. He told me that I carried four evils with me, one for each corner of my body, they were taking over me, making me disappear. But just at that moment, his trousers were set alight by a flame that had reached him from the fire. He told me that what I had brought with me was very strong and that it was starting to take over my body. He asked me to return because he had done well so far but he still needed to expel that evil; I had to go back at least four times.

I felt a little better, but at night that voice came again: There is no way out, you are one of us. And then, as if someone forced me, I went to the kitchen, opened the cutlery drawer, and took the first knife I found: Do it, don’t be afraid. I saw how the knife pierced my skin and opened a groove in my flesh. I felt no pain, but the blood ran all down my arm. Then it was the other wrist; I felt nothing. The floor had been painted red: You summoned us, here we are, fuse with us.

When I opened my eyes, I was on a bed tied up by my hands and feet. Everything was white, but it was not a hospital, it was a makeshift room with white sheets. Surely they would declare me crazy, suicidal, an incurable invalid. There was a lady next to me. She happened to be passing along the street just at the right moment and from there she saw what was going on inside. Along with my family, she stopped me from causing myself further harm and bandaged up my wounds. Before leaving she told me, "Go on now and bring a few flowers from your garden." She gave me an address and left.

I found myself in such a bad state that the next day they took me as far as they could to the place they had told me about. To our surprise, the same woman opened the door, but on greeting us we noticed her voice was different. She asked me to sit down on a wooden chair, just under a ray of light, the only light that entered the small room. From there, it was possible to see the hill in the distance, the one with the cave. She addressed me with a voice that was not that of the previous day, nor of this morning. She told me that she had spoken to the hill and it told her that I ignored it. That voice was his, don’t summon them, please, then he put several plants in my path to escape from the evil, but I didn't do it and that's why I found myself like that, because there were bad things in that place. With another voice, she told me that the hill where we found the cave, Xicuco, was willing to help me and that they had called upon neighbouring Elephant Hill to have more force in the battle.

I can’t exactly describe what happened. I was in a trance; everything was very confusing. Around me the shadows passed, the noises came and went, those voices didn’t stop, they either screamed expletives at me or begged. I lost all notion of time, nor did I know at what moment I stood up and repeated what the lady told me.

The last part of the healing process was the flowers I had taken from my garden. She brushed them over my body, again and again, and when she finished, she told me to throw them into the river. When I left that place, everything was different; I felt refreshed, I could walk alone, and I had no pain. I went to the river and there, in the flowing water, I left the flowers. When I raised my head, I saw the three elders who had healed me disappear in a flicker, only the hills were left. In my mind I heard, come, but don’t summon them.

Tláhuac, Mexico City

16 March 2016

Don'T Summon Them

Подняться наверх