Chapter Twenty-Four
After my grandpa’s reaction, I walk toward the church fearing what I will find. I’ve seen pictures of some of the old Catholic churches, complete with gargoyles and stone saints staring out at the sinners, but this church is nothing like that. A simple building stands in front of me. The red brick walls stretch up to a plain slate roof.
No snarling animals or stern visages are anywhere to be seen. I can’t imagine what my grandpa’s problem is. In fact, where is he? I look up the street toward his house. I thought he would beat us here. Tanner and I wait in front of the building for several minutes. Fidgeting in my irritation, I start pacing in front of the steps, dragging Tanner along with me because he refuses to let go of my hand.
My grandpa still hasn’t appeared when the old door of the church creaks open. I spin around to lock eyes with a middle aged man dressed in black. The little square of white on his collar and the cross dangling from his neck names him as Father Margulies.
“Good morning,” he says.
“Um, good morning,” I say, glancing around for my grandpa. Where is he?
“Good morning, Father,” Tanner says.
“I saw you two arrive a few minutes ago. I waited for you to come in, but you seemed to be reluctant to open the door,” Father Margulies says. “I thought I would make it a little easier for you. I often counsel youth in need of answers. If there’s anything I can do to help, I would be happy to listen.”
He watches us carefully. He knows Tanner, obviously, and I suppose he can probably guess who I am, but his focused gaze suggests he is searching our faces for something more than our names. Suddenly, the fact that he is a priest and that we are two teenagers standing in front of a church very early in the morning without our parents seems to click and I realize he is wondering what sin we’re here to confess. Tanner seems to come to the same conclusion.
“Father Margulies, we aren’t here to…confess anything. We just needed to talk to you about a, uh, point of doctrine, I guess.” Father Margulies raises an eyebrow. “We were only waiting for Arra’s grandfather to get here before we came in,” Tanner says.
I am grateful to him for speaking up. I’m still tongue-tied with embarrassment.
“Alden Malo is your grandfather, isn’t he?” Father Margulies asks. I nod. “Why don’t you come on in? Alden knows to come right in when he gets here. He and I have visited many times.”
“You have?” I ask.
“Oh yes, many times. We do not often see eye to eye on many points because of Alden’s strong aversion to religion in general, but we do often speak of spiritual matters,” he says. “Follow me inside and we can speak about whatever you like.”
Tanner and I do follow him, but I can’t help glancing back before the door swings closed. Why is my grandfather so hesitant to come speak with the priest if he has done so plenty of times before? Will he not show up just because he doesn’t like going to church? Anger has me tightening my hold on Tanner’s hand. He only squeezes my hand in return. Grandpa will be here soon, I tell myself. He promised.
“So, Miss Arrabella Malo, what exactly would you like to ask me?” Father Margulies asks after we are all seated in his office. “Would it have anything to do with Aztec gods?”
Apparently he and my grandpa have talked quite a bit. “Yes, it does,” I say.
“What is your question?”
“Are they real? Can they really make promises with people?”
Father Margulies seems to be expecting the question. “When is your birthday, Arrabella?”
“Today. I’m sixteen.”
He nods as if expecting this as well.
“Father, it seems that you know why we’re here,” Tanner says. “Is any of this real?”
“Do you believe it is real?” the priest asks Tanner.
“Yes, I do.”
Father Margulies nods. I wonder whether he is ever going to actually answer a question.
“I have met with Alden Malo several times to discuss the reality of the curse he believes is on his family. A few years ago, I would have said that it was all a delusion, but Alden has some very convincing evidence. I never knew his sister Maera, but I knew Katie,” he says sadly. “I remember her death. I remember the strangeness surrounding her passing very well.”
“Do you believe the curse is real?” Tanner asks.
“I fear I have no choice but to believe,” the priest says. He looks up at the door behind us. Tanner and I follow his gaze. The door now stands open, my grandpa holding it with one hand. The other hand is stuffed in his pocket. “Good morning, Alden,” Father Margulies says.
My grandpa’s eyes fall to me. They look tired and worn. He must not have gotten very much sleep last night either.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” I say quietly.
“Of course I was coming, it just took me a little longer to get ready than I thought it would. I wanted to give you something,” he says. Taking his hand out of his pocket, two thin strands of gold trail after his fingers. One holds a simple locket, the other a small gem. “These belonged to Maera and Katie. I wanted you to have them. I know they would both want to help you if they could.”
I let him slip the necklaces around my neck. The warm metal pulses against my skin. I imagine I can feel them placing their hands on me, lending me strength and hope. “Thank you, Grandpa.”
He shuffles around me to an empty seat and slumps into it. “So you’ve changed you mind, have you?” he says. His comments are directed at the priest, but Father Margulies gives his answer to me.
“Your grandfather has spent many years trying to convince me of the curse on his family. He showed me all the names and dates and pictures and told me the stories as well,” he says. He turns back to my grandpa. “I never said I didn’t believe you, Alden. You just didn’t like any of the explanations I tried to offer. You assume I do not believe because I didn’t just take everything you said at face value.”
“You tried to work my family’s history into your church’s beliefs. That’s not why I came to you. I don’t want to hear you talk about the devil or evil spirits or whatever else you want to attribute this to. Those mean nothing to me,” my grandpa says. The heat in his voice shocks me. My grandpa never gets angry. The only other emotion I’ve ever seen him exhibit besides his usual cheerfulness is sadness, never anger. And at a priest, even!
“Then why did you come to me?” Father Margulies asks.
“Because…because you know about these kinds of things, dealing with gods and making promises. I wanted to understand what had happened,” he says.
Now the priest turns back to me and Tanner. “And why have you two come to me today? For the same reason?”
Tanner and I glance at each other. “Not exactly,” I say. “My question is simple. How do we make it stop?”
“Arrabella, if I knew the answer to that question, you would be at home in your bed, not sitting here in front of me,” he says.
I look over at Tanner, my eyes filling with tears. His hand is crushing mine and his eyes offer a silent apology.
“There’s nothing left,” I whisper. Tanner’s suggestion had offered me hope again. The religions were miles apart, but there has to be enough similarities to give him some idea of what a god would want with so many dead young women. “Why is this happening?” I ask, looking up at the priest again.
“Often one person’s choices affect much more than they ever expect. Sometimes the results are wonderful, and sometimes they are not,” he says.
“What would this god want with me? I did nothing to deserve this. Why doesn’t he punish Kivera instead?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Perhaps he thought making her live with her decision would be more of a punishment than taking her life. The reasoning behind what an Aztec god, real or not, wants is probably beyond me, but I am familiar with other vindictive powers in this world and such beings often simply want to spread their misery as far as possible,” the
priest says.
“There has to be a way to stop this,” Tanner says. “You must have some idea of what we can do.”
Father Margulies leans forward in his chair, bringing his face close to mine. “The woman in the story was punished for her selfishness. It may be that only an act of selfless love and courage can break the chain.”
“What does that mean?” Tanner asks.
The priest leans back. “It is just a thought, Tanner. I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything more.”
Tanner stews in his seat. He had such hope in this idea. Failure streaks across his features, but I sit calmly in my chair. I am glad we came to visit Father Margulies. Even though he has no prayer or exorcism that can free me from this fate, his last words strike something inside of me. He believes the chain of death can be broken if someone can just figure out what it will take to do it.
Will I be the one? Father Margulies’ words turn back and forth in my mind. An act of selfless love and courage could very well change everything. This whole week, I have been so focused on saving myself and being angry at Kivera’s choice, but what if the choice about whether or not this continues is up to me? All the girls that have died are imprinted on my mind. The future generations who will be affected are no less present.
Kivera wasn’t willing to give up her life to save hundreds of her posterity. Am I? I can’t do anything to save those girls already taken, but maybe I can at least be the last.