There they were, gathered for a guided tour of the León cemetery. It had all begun with a bet between Carlos and Sebas; they were the alpha males of the group, though of course, it was a healthy rivalry. That group had formed like so many others, without premeditation and through small coincidences orchestrated by fate, though they would realize that much later. They had known each other since they were children—by sight—though that didn’t mean they had all been friends since such a tender age; some had forged their friendship much later, in the present moment, at the Institute. Such was the case with Clara, a very shy girl with excellent grades, an analytical and mathematical mind that stood out far above the average. However, she hardly spoke due to her shyness, which she faced by retreating into her world of difficult calculations and operations, isolating herself in her own universe until Tomás asked her for help with Mathematics. He was terrible at the subject; his qualities lay elsewhere—he possessed great powers of observation and was very good at relating to his classmates, though only with those he considered suitable did he form a true friendship. He had a special charm in his words and gestures, which nowadays seemed a bit old-fashioned. He had received a very demanding upbringing from his father.
And through Tomás, Clara met Raquel. She had seen her often at the Institute but had never dared to speak to her. Raquel was popular, stunningly beautiful, and excelled particularly in sports and teamwork.
They had met for the cemetery visit, all because of a bet, but they were sure they would have fun.
—I can’t believe it! They’re still not here, —Tomás was truly angry. He always had to wait, even though he gave a fifteen-minute grace period because he knew them perfectly and was certain Carlos and Sebas would be late.
To which Raquel responded, —And they say that about women. These two take the prize for tardiness.
Clara smiled timidly.
Tomás looked at his phone; he couldn’t bring himself to check social media, as it didn’t seem right to him, even though he knew they wouldn’t mind if he did, especially Raquel. He knew perfectly well that in the future, her profession would surely be related to social media—influencer, or something similar.
Raquel took her phone out of her bag to write a WhatsApp in the group they had created.
—Where are you? We’re already here—Clara, Tomás, and me. (Clock and angry face emojis).
At the top, it said “typing…”
Tomás commented, —Well, are they responding?
—Yes, Sebas is typing, —Raquel clarified.
Clara looked at her phone to read what they were saying.
Sebas typing…
—Sorry, there was a problem with the work shift of Carlos’s mother, but I think he’ll be able to come anyway.
Carlos was an orphan on his father’s side; he felt a moral obligation to look after his mother and worried deeply when he saw her struggling. He knew he could do nothing but offer moral support, but he didn’t understand why others could lead perfectly normal lives while he was always on edge, trying never to let his mother down. It wasn’t fair that that wretched cancer had taken his father when he was only twelve years old. He had hardly been able to enjoy his company.
For a moment, everyone understood the situation and calmed down.
Carlos typing…
—We’re coming, sorry.
Tomás read the short message very attentively and analyzed it; he thought Carlos would be quite worried and sensitive, though of course, he would never admit it.
They arrived twenty-five minutes later than the agreed time, but only three minutes since they had sent the message. After the customary greetings of fist bumps and shoulder taps between the boys, and kisses on the cheeks for the girls, they set off for the meeting point where the cemetery tour began.
The afternoon wasn’t very promising; the sky was growing darker by the minute, announcing an imminent storm. This, to Raquel, who project an air of confidence, was not pleasing in the slightest, though she hid it very well. She had learned to mask some of her feelings behind her beautiful smile.
They were at the gate, ready to enter, listening to the instructions of the woman who was to be their guide.
—The path is marked by candles that show you where to go; you must not leave that path out of respect and safety. I hope you enjoy the visit, —she exclaimed in a solemn tone.
She began by telling a bit of the cemetery’s history; she also informed them that there would be two theatrical recreations and that the tombs would be illuminated for each performance.
Raquel felt increasingly afraid; the truth was, it was very well staged. The path was lit on both sides by candles, and they also gave one to each person on the tour.
Clara, however, had a much more analytical mind and thought about the geometry of some of the tombs.
Meanwhile, Carlos had stories and tales of terror coming to his mind, while simultaneously feeling a great sadness. He remembered his father, though he wasn’t buried in that hallowed ground; but he managed to hide it with the help of his friend Sebas.
Sebas was a boy who lacked nothing except the company of his parents, and he longed for the kind of relationship Carlos still had with his mother. He still kept the memory of when his friend came running to his door sobbing, only managing to stammer out, —My father, my father—. Then Sebas understood with just those words what had happened; the lady with the scythe had added his friend’s father to her list. He hugged him tightly; he would never leave him alone. He was completely inconsolable; he could always count on him.
So, Sebas decided to joke about the fear some people felt there, inadvertently making a mistake because Raquel truly was terrified. Despite this, none of them yet knew what kind of phantasmagorical adventure they were about to experience.
Clara took the hand of her now-friend Raquel; it was cold and trembling. Tomás put his hands over the shoulders of both girls. —Here are the brave Carlos and Sebas in case anything happens.
—And what about you, Tomás? —Carlos asked.
—No, I leave those matters to you.
Raquel relaxed a bit, and they all laughed.
The guide looked at them sternly; they were making too much noise.
Clara said in a whisper, —I think we should make less noise.
They had been given candles to make the whole presentation more vivid. They reached the first tomb, which was illuminated. It belonged to Pedro Arbós, who died on October 2, 1896, at twenty years of age; it had been built by his own father, Fernando Arbós (the same one who had also built the Casa Encendida in Madrid or the Almudena Cemetery). White marble, bronzes from the San Juan de Alcaraz factory, mosaics from Venice, and Sevillian tiles were used, crowned with a golden angel. The light coming from within was of an intense color, perhaps to highlight the brilliance of the marble and every piece on display there. It was crafted with true taste and elegance.
The five of them were gathered; they had to start the bet but didn’t know how to go about it, as it consisted of Carlos and Sebas separating from the group during the tour and each remaining alone until just before leaving the cemetery. They noticed everyone was focused on the explanation; the security guard and the guide were distracted, so Clara, Raquel, and Tomás acted as a screen so that Sebas and Carlos’s escape would be much more discreet. Both could get into trouble, but… Carlos was even more worried because his mother was on duty in a patrol car—they had changed her shift. He hadn’t counted on that, but what he did count on was that if by some chance he was caught, his mother would find out anyway. He didn’t want to cause trouble, but sometimes he felt tied to the whole situation, anchored to the ground. Despite loving her in a way she could never imagine, he decided the risk was worth it.
Both slipped away, leaving the established path; each would have to spend some time alone before rejoining the group.
Carlos ran toward a darker, less traveled part. He leaned his back against a wall of niches without realizing it; it was cold and damp. A shiver ran through his body. All the memories evoked again: his mother weeping inconsolably, his Uncle Luis, who although not a blood uncle, felt the same or even more affection as if he were. He was always there for his mother, filling in for the shifts she worked to look after them, but especially after his father while he remained ill. He remembered how Luis looked at him with all the love he could transmit in that disastrous moment as he hugged him and uttered the dreaded words, but Carlos refused to hear that significant phrase—“Your father has died.” He ran to his friend’s house; he knew he would comfort him. Sebas was always surrounded only by the service staff; his parents were never there. Tears ran down his cheek; he only allowed himself the luxury of crying that day. He couldn’t afford to be weak or sensitive, even though his mother insisted over and over that there was nothing wrong with crying. He saw his father fight until his last breath, and he would do the same.
Carlos returned to reality, dried his tears, and looked at his phone to send a WhatsApp to Sebas; that was allowed in this absurd bet.
Sebas crouched down where he could; it smelled of smoke. For a moment, he thought of the crematorium, but it couldn’t be; that had to be well-regulated. It surely came from some chimney. He always felt alone; he had a great secret to reveal, those feelings that terrified him and that he didn’t know how to show—he was attracted to other boys. And yes, he liked his own body, but also other boys. He felt true panic at the reaction of his high-society parents with their very closed-off education. Even so, he didn’t know when the right moment was to tell them, as they were always away working or at social engagements.
His hands began to sweat and he could hardly breathe; everything was spinning. It wasn’t the best time for a panic attack. Suddenly, his phone vibrated; he had received a WhatsApp.
—I thought this was going to be scarier. This is for losers.
Sebas had to dry his hands; the fingerprint scanner wasn’t working and the screen wouldn’t take his PIN because of the sweat. Neither could he use voice identification because he might be heard. He dried his hands on his trousers and unlocked the phone.
—Yeah, it’s a bit absurd. Do you see anyone?
—There’s not a soul here, —Carlos laughed ironically.
Before Sebas could receive that message, an audio file arrived. He opened it, but it was heard with much interference and very poor quality. He decided to write to Carlos.
—The audio didn’t come through right, —Sebas exclaimed.
—What audio?? —Carlos asked.
Sebas read the WhatsApp and thought he was messing with him. —The one you just sent me— he responded.
Carlos thought the same of Sebas—that he was playing a prank on him.
—Heh, heh, very funny Sebas.
Sebas forwarded the audio.
Carlos laughed as he pressed the audio to listen. There was something about “Souls” and “cathedral,” but he couldn’t hear it well. —How did you do it? Did you have it ready?
Sebas responded nervously. —Carlos, you sent it to me; I just forwarded it back to you. Your joke is stopping being funny.
Carlos didn’t understand anything. —You’re right, let’s go back to the group and find out what happened. Post in the chat that we’re rejoining.
Carlos tried to contact the group first and his phone died. Sebas tried to write and his phone froze; it wouldn’t let him do anything. Both began to realize that something out of the ordinary was happening there.
Clara, Raquel, and Tomás were listening to the explanation, while also looking around, trying to find out when the group would rejoin; the visit was already ending. Suddenly, Clara caught a glimpse of a silhouette in the background, but it wasn’t moving—it was simply watching. Raquel quickly noticed and tugged on Tomás’s sleeve.
Tomás leaned in. —What’s wrong, Raquel?
—I saw a silhouette standing very still, watching us.
Clara spoke in a whisper. —I saw it too.
Tomás saw nothing except niches and statues that can be frightening at night.
—I don’t see anything. It must have been the light hitting a statue.
Clara scanned the surroundings, looking for light points that could strike and shadows that could create a pareidolia; she calculated all possible angles, but there was nothing that could create such a figure.
—Impossible, Tomás, —her voice sounded sure and confident.
—What we have to do is send messages to Carlos and Sebas that we’re about to leave and they haven’t returned.
Raquel took out her phone, wrote in the group, and it didn’t show as read. She decided to send another to each of them individually.
—It’s not going through. Either they have them off or they’re out of range, —she commented worriedly.
The guide continued speaking, indicating that the visit was coming to an end. The clock kept counting the minutes and they didn’t arrive.
Suddenly, Tomás saw Carlos arriving from one side and Sebas from the other, both looking very unwell, pale, and with distraught faces.
Clara kept an eye on the guide and the guard, who seemed to have noticed something. She had to do something, but she didn’t know what. Raquel approached the guard to ask him a question while showing him her phone; that way his gaze would be fixed on the screen and he wouldn’t be able to watch anything else. Meanwhile, Clara and Tomás huddled together and touched hands; Clara felt as if a current were running down her arm, and she liked it—Tomás had decided for the first time to touch her hand, but he had to do it very discreetly so as not to startle her. Carlos and Sebas ran low so they would be less visible, dodging between the tombstones until they reached behind Clara and Tomás. They rejoined and straightened their clothes.
Carlos noticed Raquel was talking to the security guard and he didn’t like it in the slightest, but he was no one to tell her what to do whether she was his girlfriend or not. At the same time, Sebas watched Carlos and saw the color returning to his face.
—Raquel, leave this man alone; he must be busy, —Carlos said.
The security guard looked at him smiling. —There isn’t much to do here.
Sebas approached and put his arm over Carlos’s shoulder. —He’s right about that.
The guard responded with a cheerful voice, —Besides, she reminds me of my daughter.
Carlos felt more at ease. How could he have thought something strange about that guy? It was true, he could easily be their father. Sometimes he thought that happened to him because he had no paternal reference.
They followed the group until they left. The guide thanked the attendees after giving the explanations concerning the various mausoleums, tombs, and gravestones visited. All the attendees returned the candles and thanked the guide.
—We have to tell you something that happened to Carlos and me while we were among the gravestones, —Sebas said, very nervous.
They all looked at each other.
—Did you see anyone? —Clara asked mysteriously.
—No, —Carlos responded. —Why do you ask?
—I thought I saw someone between the cypresses and the gravestones.
—An audio reached us that none of us sent, and then our phones died and wouldn’t let us turn them on. They were completely frozen.
Tomás asked incredulously, —Are they still frozen?
Carlos and Sebas looked at their phones and turned them on without the slightest problem. Both were surprised and looked at each other.
—Look for the audio, Sebas!
—Coming.
Sebas started searching but it didn’t appear anywhere.
—It’s not here.
—It can’t be, —Carlos declared.
While they continued their effort, suddenly the phones of everyone in the group rang. They looked at their phones and there was an audio in the group chat. They were bewildered and didn’t know quite what to do, as none of them had sent it.
Raquel summoned her courage and opened the audio. It was heard very poorly—a very dark and sinister voice seemed to give them an instruction.
—Let’s go somewhere a bit more secluded, with less noise, to hear it better, —Tomás said.
—“I wait for you tonight, at the witching hour”—the voice was guttural, cold, bone-chilling.
Raquel dropped her phone on the ground in panic; the hair on her arms was standing up and she had goosebumps.
—I’m not going. I don’t know what kind of joke this is, but it’s certainly not funny to me.
—We’re all here together, and our phones were put away. Which means none of us did it, —Clara commented.
—It could be that someone hacked one of our phones, —Raquel specified.
Tomás watched her while she trembled and tried to hide it.
—For what purpose? It’s too much work for a simple joke, —Tomás said.
—Well, if it is a joke, they don’t know who they’re playing with, —Carlos said defiantly.
Sebas supported his friend.
—Exactly. They want a fight, they’ll get one—Sebas laughed.
—Actually, it’s not hard to hack a phone; there are very easy programs to use, —Clara said calmly.
Tomás observed Clara; she truly didn’t cease to surprise him.
Raquel seemed to be less nervous; finally, her face was regaining color. —Maybe, but whatever it is, don’t count on me.
The phone rang again; this time it was Tomás who played the received audio.
—“You must all come, without exception. In case you do not, there will be consequences.”
Raquel said, very frightened, —I don’t want to go.
Sebas tried to calm her. —It’s probably some idiot, and if we go together, there’s more chance of catching him.
Clara had never revealed her secret, but she was a sensitive person; she noticed things that others didn’t appreciate. She knew perfectly well it wasn’t a third party playing a joke, but she also knew they had to go.
—Don’t worry, I have a direct line to the police if we see things getting complicated, —Clara responded to convince her.
—More direct than me, Clara? I doubt it, —Carlos joked.
Clara smiled. —That’s true too.
—How do we get in? —Tomás was very serious, thinking that would be a hurdle.
—We’ll jump the wall, —Sebas said.
Carlos didn’t want to say anything but looked timidly at Raquel and Clara. Of course, they were indignant, always at being doubted for their physical capacities.
—Don’t worry about us; worry about yourself. I’ve reached the top of the rope and rung the bell, and in hurdle jumping and speed, I have the best grade in the Institute. Do you think you’re better just because you’re a man?
Truly, Carlos’s concern was based on something deeper because what he felt for her was much more than a feeling of friendship; he was totally in love. However, he still hadn’t told her.
—Well, I certainly don’t have the best grade, but I think I’ll be able to jump the wall just like the rest of you, —Clara clarified to downplay the misunderstanding.
Tomás really didn’t know if he could manage it, but he certainly didn’t intend to shrink before his beloved Clara. —Well, let’s all calm down. It’s not an easy or normal situation.
—You’re right, Tomás. It’s nine o’clock and the message said the witching hour—at twelve midnight. What do we do in the meantime? —Sebas looked at Carlos, waiting for an answer.
—How about we eat something!
They pooled all the money they had, and it was enough to buy a pizza and sodas. Of course, Sebas had much more, but he never boasted; he waited for the others to take out their money and then contributed the same amount.
That pizza didn’t taste right to them; they all had knots of nerves in their stomachs—some because they thought it was something supernatural, others because they knew it was, and others in case it was some lowlife playing a prank.
Carlos looked at his phone again just in case; there was nothing new, except an audio from his mother with the sound of a police siren in the background.
—Honey, be careful. I’m sorry about the shift change. Make yourself something for dinner or buy something with your friends. Don’t go to bed without eating. Tomorrow when I get home, we’ll have breakfast together. —Carlos’s face lit up; Sebas and Raquel noticed.
Tomás did nothing but think about how to tell Clara what he felt for her. It was so easy for him to write and speak with everyone else, yet with her, it was different. He considered that one of the answers could be the dreaded “No”—due to her shyness, she would stop talking to him, and that would cause her to pull away from the group. She was truly a very good friend and an even better person; he didn’t want her to be alone, even if it were her own choice. On the other hand, if she said “Yes,” it would make him the happiest man on the face of the Earth.
Sebas looked at Carlos with a certain air of melancholy.
—Was it your mother?
—Yes, —Carlos responded. He knew that Sebas missed having a relationship like the one he had with his mother.
Sebas continued eating and looking away toward the street.
—Your mother looked very good in the magazine. Is she still in Rome? —Raquel asked.
Sebas looked at her; he knew she was trying to be kind to him. —Yes, she went to see my aunt, “The Countess of Gattilusi.” She’ll be back shortly.
The only concession his parents had offered him was to stay with his friends, but in exchange, he had to take classes in etiquette, four languages, and a long list of extras.
Clara suggested that perhaps firecrackers or something that made a lot of noise on the opposite side of where they were would be a good solution. Raquel volunteered to light them and run as fast as she could to reach the other side and jump the wall in time. They would have to place several because she had quite a few meters to run, but she didn’t know how to light them all and run. Clara came up with the idea of tying them all together in a row so she would only have to light one single firecracker. They would have to go to a 24-hour shop that also had firecrackers; luckily, the San Froilán festivals had been recently, so some shops might still have fireworks. They went, and indeed, in one of them they found fireworks; they placed them on one side of the wall and calculated which side was the least visible and lowest to enter. They marked the ground with a large X so that when Raquel went, she would know exactly where she had to jump.
They went toward the spot where they had to jump, and one by one they entered. Of course, Carlos and Sebas jumped easily. Clara wasn’t very good at physical activities and her vision wasn’t as good at night as during the day; Tomás cupped his hands to make a stirrup for his beloved so she had a point of support to jump the wall; Carlos was waiting astride the wall to help her up. Now it was Tomás’s turn, who didn’t have it very easy despite his height; he wasn’t used to such tasks. Raquel lit the fireworks and ran as fast as her legs would carry her; she didn’t know if it was because of the adrenaline, but she knew she was breaking her own record. She jumped the wall without difficulty, grabbing the top edge with both hands and, aided by her footing, reached the other side with ease.
The guard was on the other side of the cemetery; at such a noise, he jumped and went to see where it came from.
—“Good, we’re all here. The audio said the time but not the exact location. What do we do?”
Tomás thought that perhaps when they started walking, someone would try to contact them again.
—“What do you think… if we walk!”
They all looked at each other and agreed to walk, though carefully so as not to fall. Truly, now it did feel scary, or at least unsettling, to be there. Clara instinctively grabbed Tomás’s arm but with great care; Tomás reached out and took her hand—“that way if you fall, I can catch you better.” Raquel, however, grabbed Sebas—to Carlos’s chagrin—more out of fear than necessity. Sebas knew Carlos’s feelings toward her.
—“I have to go aside for a moment,” —Sebas said.
—“What for?” —Raquel commented.
—“Well… to…”
Raquel was annoyed — “Couldn’t you have gone to the bathroom at the pizzeria!”
Sebas moved away a bit to calm his spirits; of course, he had no such need. They waited when suddenly a noise was heard. Raquel jumped, clinging to Carlos, pressing her chest against his arm. Carlos’s heart raced, and he didn’t know if it was from the scare or from feeling her so close. They watched very attentively; it had been a black cat stepping on the fallen leaves.
Sebas rejoined them and winked at Carlos with a smile. Suddenly several fireflies appeared, following a pattern; it seemed they wanted to be followed.
— “Let’s follow them to see where they lead us,” —Clara said. — “They’re forming a movement pattern.”
They set off, following the beam of light they projected. It led them to the door of a mausoleum, and as they looked inside, they heard a voice behind them. They all turned with panic in their bodies and trembling.
A man with the appearance of a gentleman stood there; he wore a black frock coat and a maroon velvet scarf around his neck acting as a wide tie, held by a brooch with a large carved black stone. He carried a very thin black cane, its handle formed by the head of a gargoyle made of silver.
—“Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen. I am glad you have accepted my invitation.”
They stood frozen, not quite knowing how to act.
—“Is this a joke? Who are you?”
Levitating, he reached Carlos’s height and brought his face very close to his.
—“Are you sure you want to know, Carlos?” —he asked in a sinister tone.
Carlos turned as white as the wall.
—“I don’t think you want to know just yet. Well, I have a game prepared for you. If you play, it will be perfect; we will all have fun and you can leave in peace. If you don’t play, there will be consequences.” —He looked at each member of the group, sat on an elevated tombstone, straightened his frock coat, crossed his long legs, and rested both hands on the gargoyle of his cane.
Tomás dared to mutter something. —“Will the game put us in danger?”
That strange gentleman smiled in a charming but dark way.
—“You already are. Let’s start with you, Sebas. Tell me your greatest secret.”
Sebas came undone thinking that he had to confess at that moment; he was as scared as his friends, and a sea of doubts took over his psyche.
—“I am afraid of loneliness,” —Sebas responded.
That type pointed at him with the cane, and he went flying against the door of the Pantheon.
— “No, no. I think you haven’t understood the game well. I have asked for your greatest secret, not the consequences of that secret. I will repeat it again.”
Everyone stood terrified; that man had smashed Sebas against the wall of the pantheon—he had pointed at him, and with a magical force, he had been thrown through the air. They went quickly to see how he was. His entire back ached; he was sitting on the ground like an object dropped from many meters up.
—“Don’t help him,” —he shouted, or rather ordered.
It was too late; Carlos was giving him his hand to help him up. That gentleman had red pupils. He pointed at Carlos’s chest, and he felt a sharp stab that made him fall instantly.
—“I repeat: your greatest secret, Sebastián. Tic-toc, time is passing.”
Sebastián clenched his fists and stood up.
—“I’m gay. I like men.”
—“Oh… come on, what else? That is just the tip of your secret,” —he decreed while looking at him from very close.
—“I’m afraid you all won’t accept me, nor will my family. I’m afraid to be repudiated and to be alone, to stay completely alone.” —Sebas fell to his knees again and began to cry like a child.
Carlos took him by the hand to continue hugging him; none of them saw anything wrong in the secret he had guarded so carefully in the chest of his heart.
Again, he raised his cane and directed it at Raquel.
—“Now you: what secret do you guard and fear?” —he asked Raquel.
Raquel buckled.
—“The same… loneliness.”
He pointed with the cane toward her knees and she fell abruptly.
—“No, my dear. That is the result, not your secret. And now, what is your secret?”
Raquel was crying inconsolably, not knowing if from the pain or from the answer that was so difficult to say aloud but which her ego whispered to her constantly.
—“I’m afraid they think I’m not intelligent, that they only see my physical appearance and take advantage of me. That’s why I always try to stay one step ahead of others’ feelings. I have many virtual friends, but I needed true friendship, to feel supported and without complexes.”
She covered her face with both hands while tears rolled down her beautiful face. Carlos didn’t know who to comfort; this was being too hard, though in truth he didn’t see the secrets of the others as being of such importance, but he supposed that when it affects you personally, the matter varies greatly. He approached Raquel and hugged her as gently as he could, though in truth what he wanted was to kiss her until her crying was exhausted; suddenly, a memory of her as a little girl with two very blonde pigtails came to him—she was just as tender now, though she didn’t want to show it.
— “Well, let’s see” —that strange man leaned forward and fixed his gaze on Clara.
Clara didn’t notice the stalking and threatening gaze. Tomás stepped forward and positioned himself in front of Clara; that man smiled maliciously.
—“All in good time, Tomás. Now it is Clara’s turn. Don’t worry, you too will expose your secrets.”
Clara took a step forward, affectionately brushing Tomás aside.
—“Tell me, what do you hide in your soul?”
—“Truly, I hide nothing,” —Clara affirmed.
—“Come on, my dear. We all hide something,” —he stood up, opened his arms pointing at everyone who was there. — “Reveal yours to us.”
—“Well, I don’t see well and that makes me very self-conscious.”
—“You lie like a villain” —his voice changed again and he made a trench of fire at her feet; the slightest movement and she would fall immediately.
— “I don’t know what my secret is, really I don’t know” — Clara was beginning to feel afraid.
Carlos raised his voice. —“Enough already! Why are you making us suffer? What have we done to you?”
—“I ask the questions here. Don’t make me any angrier. Speak, Clara!” —snapped the gentleman.
— “I suppose I feel self-conscious and out of place for being albino. I’m afraid they mockery of me as they have been doing until now. I could never play in the sun because of the burns; my head hurts when I read or write for a long time; they watch me on the street as if I were some freak, and as a child they laughed at me whenever I fell. That’s why I decided to isolate myself from everyone, until Tomás approached me. And now that I have a group of friends, I don’t want to be alone again. I don’t want to, I don’t want to…” —Clara didn’t stop repeating the same thing over and over.
That man extinguished the trench of fire, and Tomás approached to hug her with utmost affection and delicacy.
—“It’s your turn, Carlos. Reveal your secret to us.”
—“I have no secret,” —he said with total solemnity.
—“Oh my friend, you have one that has been stalking you for a long time.”
— “I am not your friend and I repeat that I have no secret. Only one: I’m in love with Raquel.”
—“We already knew that one. I want your hidden fear. Speak!”
—“I don’t know.”
A very brilliant but blood-stained police badge appeared at his feet.
Carlos shouted and ran toward him, but an invisible force made him fall to his knees and wouldn’t let him get up.
—“Perhaps a bit of help wouldn’t hurt, right friend?” —clarified the gentleman.
—“Don’t you dare touch my mother.”
—“Who would stop me?”
—“Besides her, myself. I don’t need anyone else.”
—“Yes you do. Does your father’s death sadden you or does it consume you? What are your feelings? Tell me.”
Carlos grabbed dirt from the ground and clenched his fists tightly. He shouted as loud as he could until he was hoarse. All the feelings he had kept inside, all the withheld pain, began to sprout until he was left without tears.
—“I will help you a little,” —said that coarse voice. — “You feel alone because your father died in an unmerited agony; at that moment you realized you were the man of the house and you didn’t want to be. You only wanted to laugh, play, go out with your friends, have your father teach you how to shave, to feel proud of you at every achievement in your life, for you to share a hug as father and son, for him to scold you if you came home late. However, you had to mature too soon. Then you thought you would look after your mother, that you would be an exemplary son within your possibilities, even though sometimes you need to behave differently, according to your physical age. You didn’t want to fall in love in case it didn’t go well; you didn’t want to have to feel such a great feeling of loss again. But time passes, and from the frustration you moved to sadness; that fear of falling in love is added to another, which is the guilt of being allowed to be happy because your father can no longer be—since he is not here, your father is not here.”
That type made a strange gesture of going to hug him but held back.
—“You are left, Tomás. Tell us.”
— “I have no secrets.”
—“You have fears. Tell us.”
Tomás, seeing all that was happening, thought that his own were a bit absurd compared to the others’.
—“I feel like I’m from another era and place; I don’t feel very understood. I don’t have a muscular body and because of my character they have laughed at me, until I learned to read the minds of other people.”
—“But explain yourself better: in what way do you read people’s minds?”
Tomás felt embarrassed. —“If I concentrate, I can know what they feel.”
—“That isn’t reading minds; it’s reading the Soul,” —the stranger told him.
Clara felt embarrassed; would he know what she felt?
That stranger stood up.
—“Clara, Clara,” —the man said. — “Think since when you’ve been in love; he hasn’t deceived you at any moment, and when there are feelings involved, it’s harder for him to read the mind. Am I wrong, Tomás?”
Tomás nodded with a gesture of his head.
—“Now you will be able to continue together for all your lives, this group as friends, couples, or whatever you want. Now you know all your secrets, sorrows, and so on.”
Clara looked very fixedly into that man’s eyes. —“You have come to help us, then, not to crush us. Who are you?”
—“Someone who comes to watch over you and take care of you.”
At that moment, two massive white wings sprouted from his back, and everything dark about him was transformed into light.
—“This has been your second awakening to life; you must make the most of it. You still have much to live for.” —The angel dedicated some words to each of them.
—“Clara, take advantage of your sensitivity to help those who require it, although I know your future will be that of a great scientist.”
—“Carlos, enjoy, live; you have always had a father figure at your side who has looked after you just as your mother has—the one you call Uncle Luis, and who, if you permit it, will be happy alongside your mother. Curious that you are going to defend the citizenry with your profession as commissioner.”
—“Tomás, you have to live and trust others more. One day, what happened here may inspire you to create a bestseller.”
—“Sebas, you will be a great lawyer and a great Minister.”
—“Raquel, you will succeed in becoming a great Community Manager and will create a great virtual company.”
—“This will be fulfilled as long as you are happy, without harming anyone. Now I bid you farewell; have a good journey in what remains of your earthly life.”
He vanished into the air. Everyone stood still, trying to react to what had happened. And as if everything had been premeditated, they hugged each other in unison, tightly, and left that place—some as couples, but all as friends.
The angel watched them depart, while another with wings as black as jet remained by his side.
—“I admit that sometimes I like your performance.”
—“Don’t be like that; I had to make them react in time. Tell me, brother of death: have I succeeded? Have I succeeded in preventing you from taking them?”
—“Yes, you have. They will all channel their lives, and most importantly, Clara and Tomás will take advantage of their gift.”
—“Each of them has a special gift,” —the white-winged angel clarified.
—“You always liked those people too much. I’m sure that’s why you united them!” —said the angel of death.
—“Who knows, my brother,” —responded the first, laughing as he saw how all the friends hugged each other.
Both departed in unison, levitating into the beyond.