When he woke up, his mother, father, and little sister surrounded him.
He was in his bed back home.
“Simon, are you ok? What happened?”
He flashed back to that terrible scene at his aunt’s house.
It felt so real.
“Nothing. I just-“
“Do you remember your aunt dropping you off in the morning? What were you doing over at her house? Is that why you’ve been acting weird as of late? You know we don’t go over there for any reason. She’s-“
“She’s evil,” Simon said as he turned over onto his side.
“What did she do?”
Donna became frenzied.
She left the room and came back with a little glass vial.
Sprinkling him with holy water from church, she prayed aloud.
“Blessed Jesus, free my son from the powers of darkness and deliver him from all evil!”
As she was praying, Simon passed out yet again and went into a vision.
“Simon,” said a man in a white gown.
So much light was exuding from him that Simon could barely see anything but his brightness.
“Why did you raise your hand against my son, Diego?”
Simon melted like a little boy after being questioned about doing something wrong.
“I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry, I -“
He cried, sobbed, and pleaded for forgiveness.
“I’m going to let you repent of this,” the man said after a while.
“But I hate witchcraft. It’s in rebellion towards me. And to my father, it’s an abomination. We wouldn’t suffer a witch to live.”
Simon wondered if this man might be who he thought it was.
The man he didn’t really believe in because religion had clouded His light with a veil.
This couldn’t be the Lord, could it?
“I have made you to do much greater things than this. And for this reason, I will let you live, because my mercy is great.”
Simon paid closer attention as the man suddenly came into focus.
He had a long brown beard.
Long brown wavy hair.
A big, Jewish nose.
Most notable of all were his eyes, which were as raging fires.
“If you reject my freedom this time, then I won’t help you again. The foul spirit of death is trying to come against you, and your end can be a lot worse than Diego’s.”
Simon fell to his knees.
“Thank you, Jesus. Thank you!”
Jesus lifted Simon to his feet, wiped his tears, and hugged him.
“It was your mother’s prayers that have just saved you.”
Simon woke again in his room to a dampened bed.
“Is it possible? Is Jesus really real?”
Simon was truly humbled.
All he knew was that an odd sense of peace lingered in the atmosphere.
Sweet peace that he couldn’t seem to understand.
“Well, I still need a part-time job,” Simon said.
He jumped out of bed, put on his suit, and just as he was going out the door, Donna intersected him.
“What are you doing? You need rest.”
Before he was about to spout off a piece of his mind, he remembered what Jesus had told him.
“Mom, I’m sorry I’ve been disrespectful towards you.”
She could hardly believe her son had just uttered such words.
“You’re right,” Simon continued, “There’s no time to waste. I have to go out and get a job.”
Donna shed a tear.
“God has answered my prayers. Knock ’em dead, son. You can do anything you set your mind to, with Jesus on your side.”
“I know.”
“Just make sure you drink a lot of water.”
“I will, mom. I love you.”
He went on his way to the community center and thought about how real God and Jesus had been all along.
That’s probably the reason the devil is so real, too.
Then, as a shadow came over him, his mind went to the place of his still deepest, darkest desire.
He wondered what would end up coming of the spell, and if Margaret would still be at the community center when he got there.
Simon couldn’t believe his eyes as he approached the center.
The entire building was up in flames.
He ran towards it at top speed as innumerable firefighters struggled to quench the inferno.
They ran in and out of the building, scouring for any signs of life left behind.
And there, amidst the chaos, he saw Margaret sitting on the curb, crying.
“What happened?”
She cried and leaned onto his shoulder, struggling to get the words out.
“Diego. He fell. He couldn’t breathe because of the smoke and went unconscious. They had to take him to the hospital.”
Her clothing and face had smoke marks.
“How could this have happened?”
Tears continually streamed down from Margaret’s eye like cascades.
Simon held her in his arms, feeling terrible, and wondered if he, his aunt, and Santa Muerte had anything to do with this.
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
“Margaret? Hello.”
She sobbed on the other end.
“What’s wrong?”
“He died. He died to save me. But now, he – he’s gone,” she continued sobbing.
Simon fell to the floor.
“I’m sorry! God, I’m so sorry!”
The wake was beautifully put together.
At least half the town showed up at the young man’s funeral.
Margaret was in the front row, crying.
But she wasn’t the only one.
There wasn’t a dry eye in attendance.
Simon sat there, feeling himself slip in and out of consciousness because of the nervousness which the spirit of death had instilled in him.
His family sat beside him.
“How could God have let this happen?” Donna whimpered.
Simon put his head back in desperation and looked towards the sky.
Then, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
His aunt was flying in the air.
Nobody else could see her.
But Simon could see her crystal clear. She was floating!
He put his head down into his hands, now knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was responsible for all of this.
Through a spiritual transaction, he had put Diego to death.
But didn’t Jesus break this? Simon wondered.
Apparently not, replied a wicked voice in his mind.
They had made a blood covenant with the spirit of death itself.
And it was all for-
He glanced at Margaret in the front row and wondered if being with her was still worth it.
At that same moment, she looked back at him and shot him a sweet, comforting smile, as if there was still hope within her.
Simon was consoled for the moment, but later, his mind raced.
If this part happened, he thought, then…
No, no, no!
It wasn’t worth it.
Simon wept so hard the rest of that day that he almost ran out of tears left to cry.
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
Simon’s phone buzzed.
“Margaret! How are you?”
“It’s been tough, but I can still be grateful that I came out whole… is there any chance you could come by sometime today?”
Suddenly his dream of hell hit him, hard, and the reality of what he was experiencing slapped him in the face.
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, just let me- hold on. I’m getting another call. Let me just get back to you after this.”
“Wait! Simon?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this, but. I like you. I can’t explain it, but I really like you.”
Simon almost couldn’t believe it.
Margaret’s boyfriend of two years had died just a few days prior, and here she was confessing her affection for Simon.
“I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” Simon replied.
Margaret sighed, then she began to slowly and gently weep.
Simon listened, and he couldn’t help but weep as well.
So much emotion was bottled up in the both of them.
Why, he thought, why did it have to be this way, that there would be so much death associated with getting my desires? Why did I have to choose this way?
This was the effect of making an agreement with the spirit of death.
It never pays to make a deal with the devil.
“I’ll be over as soon as I can, Margaret, but first I have to talk to someone.”
He got onto his bike.
“My aunt will know what to do – she’s the one that made all of this happen. I have to figure out from her what I should do next.”
All spiritual covenants are based in blood, he thought.
“Why did I get myself into this?”
He quivered at the thought of whose blood would have to be shed to get rid of the curse still hanging over his head.
“She needs to know what she’s done. What we did. And I need to fully know what this’ll mean for the future, and how to break the spell.”
MARK SOTOMAYOR 