Peace

HELL HATH AMY

“Mommy!”

 Angelica is crying out for me. She and her brother Alois are playing and as always, Alois always went just a bit too far. Being twins, both six years old, Alois always has had a strong connection to his sister. But I have always believed that part of him wished than Angelica was an Antonio. Just so that she could match his grit.

 Taking a breath in, I walk over to see what it is now. With these two, there’s never a single dull moment. For better or for worse, these two know how to keep me busy. School, going out to eat, going to the beach, their constant fighting and bickering, their crazy ideas that they feel the need to express to me. Always entertaining.

 They’re my prides and joys.

 Arriving, I am expecting a lock of Angelica’s hair to be cut off. Or worse, a part of her ear like when we were at the laundry mat. But instead, there is this gentleman at the door. He is blonde, blue eyes, dressed as though he is ready to go into the sss. He has this kind of smile that generated warmth. Alois and Angelica gather around him as though he’s some UFO. Might as well be. 

The only time anyone who is white is seen is when we are in the city around tourists. Here in Lima Peru, we tend to stay in our tight knit groups.

“Hi?” I said and asked at the same time. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, are you Fiorella Sanchez?” The man asked, surprising me with how good his Spanish is.

“Yes. How do you know me? And who are you exactly?”

“Fair question and I’m Matthew Hawks.”

“Matthew, why are you here?”

“You mean why am I in Lima Peru or why am I at your door?”

“How about both?”

“I’m here because this is just a beautiful place isn’t it? I mean the views, the people, the food.

It’s like paradise every day!”

“Why are you here?”

 I allow Matthew into our home as he sits on the couch in the den with Alois and Angelica as I got him some Inca Kola. Looking at him from afar, he’s showing Alois some sort of medallion. There’s a gentle openness that extends from him.  And it doesn’t seem as if he’s doing it just to pass time or to appease Alois. He’s genuinely engaged.

“Your father used to work in Lima?” I asked.

“Oh yeah.” Matthew responded. “He ran the board of a nonprofit that worked a ton on the city.”

“So, you came a lot?”

“Yeah, at first, it was by force. But now, how could I resist?”

“It always seemed like you Americans were trapped inside your own bubbles.”

“Hey, you’re an American too.”

“Try saying that to anyone else.”

“North, South, Central, what’s the difference? They’re just boundaries, am I right?”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Yeah!”

“Okay, so what is the connection between your dad and me?”

“My father was in love with your mother.”

 Good way to get to the point. It’s like one of the twists in a science fiction movie that I would take Alois and Angelica to. My mother, Alessandra, was a woman who had a checkered past if you want to put it that way. She was certainly a beautiful woman; it was that beauty that ultimately lead her down a path of not being a good mother or wife. Simply good at having a going out when the disco tech opened.

“What was your father’s name?”

“Walter. Walter Sorenson.”

“Walter?”

“Yeah. Ring any bells.”

“…I remember Walter. He said that he’d go by Walt if not for Disney.”

“Sounds like my dad’s corny joke.”

“He was a very nice man.”

Yes, he was.”

“When did he pass?”

“Just last month. Had the memorial service and everything. It was something.  You know it’s going to happen. You just never when it’s going to happen. Though, I can’t complain, dying at 93 isn’t too bad is it?”

“He lived a long fulfilling life.”

“I don’t know about the fulfilling part.”

 Matthew drinks his Inca Kola as silence sets into the room. I have not thought about Walter in years. I never got to know too much about him, but my mom really enjoyed his company. He was an extremely wealthy man who did not mind spending his money. Every time that he came over it was never empty handed. He gave me a cabbage patch kid doll, a teddy ruxin, a Peruvian Barbie doll, and my first pair of roller blades that I used to get around the city in my pre-teen years. All of these items were long gone. Now he is too.

“I’m sorry to hear that he’s gone.” I uttered, seeking any kind of way to ease off this tension.

“He was so kind.”

“He had a good act.” Matthew replied. “I mean, cheating on my mother withnot just your mother but many other women isn’t exactly the nicest thing now is it?”

“I had no idea.”

“Of course, you didn’t. I’m 33. You uh…”

“22.”

“See. I was like 20 when this was all happening. You were like nine. Just an innocent bystander.”

“What was it about my mom that you brought you to me?”

“My father, he kept a journal of his travels. And in it was an extensive amount about these mythical creatures. They sound like a fairytale or some ride at a theme park. But nowadays, they sound like something very real. They sound like Demons.”

“Demons? What are you trying to say?”

“Fiorella, how much do you know about your family’s history?”

“We originated from Spain and migrated over to Peru in the 1900s.”

“Yes, but are you aware of anything to do with any special traits that your ancestors may have possessed?”

“My family were not Demons if that is what you’re asking!”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to come off like this. It sounds insane, but just take a look at this.”

 Handing over one of his father’s journals, I read one of the entries. He was speaking about my mom in such a kind way. He then started to speak about a s****l encounter that they had. I wanted to slam that journal shut, but I kept going on. He wrote about how bat like wings began to sprout from his back and how when she stared into his eyes, she had bat like pupils. It was her way of expressing herself to him. It sounded out of this world to me.

“How do you know that he wasn’t on something?” I asked, shoving that journal right back to him.”

“My father got his d**g addiction out in the 70s. After that, women were his vice.”

“Alois, Angelica, go out and play.”

“But mom…” Alois started. I turn back to Angelica and him, giving them the look that they’re well aware of not to play with. Those two run away so fast that

cartoon dust flies.

 After they left, I sit down, rubbing my forehead, looking down to the ground like the answers are there for me to pick up. No longer is anything making any sense to me. What do you mean my mom was a Demon? Does that mean that I’m a Demon? Are Alois and Angelica Demons? How did this all start?” These were all questions that I should be directing to Matthew. Problem is that I can barely

speak.

“What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why come here and tell me this?”

“I thought that you would want to know the truth.”

“And how the hell does this truth help me?”

“You rather live a lie?”

“I didn’t know that I was living one!”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to say that you are living a lie. I mean to say that there is so

much more about yourself that you don’t know.”

“And you can help me?”

“Yes. Hopefully along the way I can learn more about myself too.”

 Looking at Matthew, his eyes ring of sincerity. Walter seemed to have been a complex man and Matthew is bent on unraveling what his father had interwoven with my mom. Still, I cannot help but wonder why he would want to be here. He doesn’t appear to be a doctor. What does he have to do with the Demons?

“What are you going to do to me?” I inquired.

“Come again?”

“I’ve heard of things like this before. Are you going to run tests of me or something?”

“One, maybe two. Just got to see where you’re at you know?”

“What?!?”

“Kidding! There is no need for any of that. Here’s what the deal is. These Demons? They have been a new thing for the whole world to contend with. A while I am not convinced that your mother was a Demon, she may have been associated a bloodline that evolved into what are now Demons.”

“Do you think that I am a Demon?”

“I don’t know. But what I do know is that going to La Inmaculada church down in Huancayo is going to get us closer to that answer.”

“What, are we going to see a exorcist or something?”

“Well...”

“You’ve got to be kidding me?”

“It’s the only way. Unless your mother left you some spiritual gifts.”

“That’s a lot of time.”

“We’ll going on Friday, no big deal. It’ll be like a field trip for your children.”

“What do you want to do with this knowledge? You don’t look like a doctor.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s the truth. I may not be a doctor. But I do work with several. I’m apart of Doctors across the sea. We are a nonprofit bent on curing the world of it’s most worst diseases. Granted, these Demons aren’t a disease, they are the biggest enemy that we have faced in sometime. And I want to be a part of bringing that enemy down. And I know that deep down, you would like that

too.”

 Matthews passion bleeds out of him. It’s hard not to want to listen to him with the way that he expresses himself. Between his father and his job, his intentions shine with a child’s purity. He isn’t looking for money or status. What he was seeking is personal fulfillment. And that is something that I can get into.

 Friday afternoon came and Matthew is driving us down to Huancayo, down to find our truth. Matthew is driving down in Jeep as Alois keeps sticking his head out of the window as Angelica holds on tightly to me. This is by far the most intense ride to church that we’ve ever had. As we went along, I feel myself going back to my early days.

 The earlier days, being when my mother was still around. I remember when Walter would come around our house. At that point it was just my mom and me. I was still in elementary school and dad had been gone since I was two. Mom had become a Jehovah Witness and was a fanatic to say the least.

 To the point that I wasn’t allowed to watch Harry Potter. When I tried to explain to mother that J.K Rowling was not only a woman, but believed in God, she scoffed, saying that someone who believed in God couldn’t write stories about Wizards.

 But when Walter came around, everything was different. Mother was a new woman. She couldn’t care less about the things that I wanted to watch. All of the focus was shifted onto Walter. And you couldn’t blame her. Walter had this classic look about him. He was always in suit, wore big glasses, had a cigar in his mouth, spoke like Frank Sinatra, and was as sweet, kind, and generous as a

saint.

 Whenever he walked through the front door, he would take her hand and twirl her around. He then would crouch down to me, give me a high five, and then pullout whatever gift that he had for me. He and mom would then go off into another room apparently doing some rather wild activities. Sometimes there would only be laughter. Sometimes, there would be yelling. I believe that I heard some glass shatter a few times. In the moment, the dynamics of their relationship didn’t make much sense to me. He would come, stay for the weekend. Sometimes, just one night. Then he was gone for four to six months, and this cycle would go on over again.

 They did, however, enjoy going out. They both loved the Lima night scene. Mother liked just going out and dancing. For Walter I had to imagine that he was trying to relieve his past in some way. Maybe mother looked like someone he dated in Lima back in the 70s. Either way, they would roll out to clubs as though they were king and queen. With Walter at her side, mom sure did feel

like one.

 Before going out, mom loved to put on music. She loved 70s and 80s style music. The music felt more “serious” she would always say. From where I wassitting, the music just sounded incredibly old fashioned, yet groovy. I could see how she would like to dance to it. The beats normally invited at least a turn of the hips.

 The air is feeling drier as we drive into Huancayo. The skies, blue as the ocean with a streak of clouds passing through. Living in Peru is like living in a painting. Each waking moment with filled with a beauty that’s just infused into the atmosphere. Whenever you turned your head, you’re surrounded by landscapes that were here long before you were conceived. It’s awe inspiring,

at least it is when I think about it.

   I can see La Inmaculada church just off into the distance. I can’t even remember how long it has been since I have set foot on these holy grounds. This town just has this spirits thing about it. Walking through, you feel that the energy’s different. That untold histories are kept right around us, and we are so clueless. 

“We’re here!” Matthew said as he parked the car. We all exited as I paused a moment to take it all in. People have told me about getting a feeling that your life was about to change. I got that when I found out that I was going to the kids. I was having that right now.

 Walking into La Inmaculada church down the pews, it’s like I am walking down memory lane. I can absorb all the other Peruvian girls that had been forced to be inside the church on any given Sunday. Having to stare at the artistry and while you were amazed by its conception, its vividness of violence is alarming.

“Welcome searchers.” A priest said, almost seemingly standing there, waiting for us to walk right down to him.

“Father.” Matthew started. “We humbly come requesting that you exercise any Demons out of this young woman.

 The Priest walks down to me , takes my hands and looks into my eyes. After peering into me, he smiles and puts my hands down. He gets back up and stands in front of as though he was going to give a sermon. I have never been a part of anything like this before, but already, I’m beginning to have cold feet.

“Fiorella.” The Priest said. “I remember you.”

“You do?” I asked, shocked. “But it’s been so long.”

“One never forgets such a gentle soul. I doubt this, but does father Baldomero ring a bell?”

“Oh my…gosh” I let out, looking back at Alois and Angelica.

“How has your mother been?” Father Baldomero asked.

“She is no longer with us father.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It appears that she did however raise a strong, independent woman.”

“She did her best ya know?”

“My child, is there anything that I can do for you?”

 Now sitting inside father Baldomero’s office where even more eccentric religious imagery is, it’s hard not think back to all those horror movies that I’ve seen. Yes, the Exorcist is a given. But also, the last exorcism, sinister and others that were way more wacked out than any of the older films. Who knows howaccurate those movie people are getting it on set? Hell, it might be the real thing.

“Fiorella, are you okay?” father Baldomero asked as he rejoined us, easily sensing my tension.

“Yeah father, I’m fine.”

“Don’t look at this as though it was any kind of big moment.” Father reassured me. “We’re simply going to do what everyone on the planet needs to do in one shape or form.”

“What would you call that?” Matthew asked.

“Getting to the truth of who they are.”

 Father Baldomero instructed me to go and lay down on the bed. Standard horror movie stuff. He then tells me to close my eyes. As to be expected. Laying there, I drift and wonder if I was really a Demon, what would that mean for my life? Demons are considered to be huge threats and are killed on sight. All Demons lived down in the sewers. Imaging life living in the sewers, a life without Alois and Angelica, was unbearable to me. Father Baldomero has to do something.

“In the Name of Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, strengthened by the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, Mother of God, of Blessed Michael the Archangel, of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul and all the Saints, and powerful in the holy authority of our ministry, we confidently undertake to repulse the attacks and deceits of the devil. God arises; His enemies are scattered and those who hate Him flee before Him. As smoke is driven away, so are they driven; as wax melts before the fire, so the wicked perish at the presence of God. V. Behold the Cross of the Lord, flee bands of enemies. The Lion of the tribe of Juda, the offspring of David, hath conquered. May Thy mercy, Lord, descend upon us. As great as our hope in Thee. We drive you from us, whoeveryou may be, unclean spirits,

all satanic powers,

all infernal invaders,

all wicked legions,

assemblies and sects.

In the Name and by the power of Our Lord Jesus Christ, + may you be snatched away and driven from the Church of God and from the souls made to the image and likeness of God and redeemed by the Precious Blood of the Divine Lamb.”

 I lay there in the middle of a cold silence. Right as I am about to express doubt, blood rushes from my head to my toes. I can only describe this as the feeling you get after you’ve that first one drink too many. Literally, I am losing touch with myself. The sense of where I begin and I where I met the surface is fading away.

 Next thing that I know, I am engulfed in darkness. Feeling around, a light comes on. I looked over to the opposite side of the room and there I see… me. Yes. Me. At least, a figure that looks smack like me. Same black hair, red lips, curves, peach like skin, hazel eyes. The difference is her posture and the look inside her eyes. She looks like a straight up b***h.

“You made it.” The wannabe me said.

“What is going on?”

“How do you not know? You’re the one that agreed to this. I’m getting summoned.”

“So, what does that mean for me?”

“At the moment, there is no you. There is only me.”

“Demonic spirits I call on you, speak!” Father Baldomero cried out.

“I’m here!” The wannabe me said.

“Stop it!” I cried out.

“Oh, they can’t hear you.” The wannabe me said.

“Can you not taunt Fiorella?!?” Father Baldomero commanded.

 My up body is rising up as my head c***s towards father Baldomero. Matthew is right behind with Alois and Angelica long gone, far away from the craziness of all this.

“First you bother me and then you tell me what I can and cannot do? You must be a cheap date too.”

“Stop talking like that!” I shouted.

“Just sit back and relax.”

“Demon, how long have you apart of this realm?” Father Baldomero asked.

“How long has Christopher Columbus Day been around?”

“Demon!”

“I have been of this earth for 335 years.”

“How long have you been inside of young Fiorella?”

“Since birth.”

“What?” I blurted out.

“Did you come from her mother?”

“That isn’t how it works?”

“Well then how does it work?” Matthew interrupted.

“Who is that heathen?”

“Young man.” Father said.

“My apologies. Didn’t mean to step on any toes.”

“Demon, what is your name?”

“Amy.”

 I hear nothing for more than a moment. Amy seems like a normal name to me. What’s the cause of all this?  I glance over at Amy, or the figure that’s presenting itself as Amy and see this devilish smile staying planted on her face as she rubs her hands together. There’s no way that she is a part of me. No way.

“You’re not Amy…”

“Just said I am.”

“Who are you?!?” I exclaimed.

“I’m an angel.”

“Father., is this true?”

“Fiorella, she is a fallen angel.”

“A fallen angel?”

“That Demon is the damn president of hell.” Matthew said, feeling his tension relived from holding his tongue for so long.

“Excuse me?”

“What?” Amy asked, as though my reaction was out of the ordinary. Someone how to run hell, don’t they?”

“How did you get inside me?!?”

“Now that’s personal.”

“Demon! I command you to leave the body of Fiorella Sanchez at once!”

 Father Baldomero makes a loud noise as there’s a pause. Moving my eyes over to Amy, nothing has happened. She’s still there, with what is now just her resting devil face and me, not having a single clue as to who I am. To think, that this whole time, I had a Demon with me every step of the way. It was never about going out late, going to prom, getting a fake I.D or getting a good job. It was always about the Demon inside me.

“Try again.” Amy said.

“What’s going on?” Matthew asked, as the concern in his voice raised.

“Amy! I command you to leave in the name of Christ!” My body had a jolt, more like an electric current go through it. It must have been what Benjamin Franklin went through. Everything inside of me was shook up and thrown around. Amy though, persisted. Normally in the movies when things like this happened, that spelt bad news for the heroes of the story.

“Are you trying to tear the girl’s body?” Amy asked.

“What is she doing?” Mathew questioned.

“She has been able to permanently attach herself to Fiorella.”

“More like she has interwoven her soul into hers.”

“Is this enough?” Amy asked. Can I go back to sleep?”

“Be gone Demon!” Father Baldomero yelled.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Amy!” I shouted. “Why…why me?”

 Amy winces at me with as she said, “oh poor thing”. She’s s the most apex of apex predators that I have ever came across. Bar none. The sheer coldness that she gives off is immense. Mixed in with the pure joy that’s captured by her soul with each unsavory act of defiance that she takes part of. There’s not an ounce of her that bled the blood of humanity.

 Darkness fills the area again as I am consumed by it. The feelings of a past that I have no idea about flows through me. No visions, no places, no people.  Just the feelings of a past that I don’t understand. A past that had occurred that does not belong to me. It’s reaching, arms out to get me as though it wants to have its last opportunity to see light.    

“Fiorella?” Father Baldomero said. “Are you with us?”

 Coming to, it’s father Baldomero and Matthew in the room with me once again. Moving around and feeling my senses, I am back to “normal”. All my life I have felt more of someone who went with the flow. Whatever happened, I would rock with it. It’s how I have two twins without a father raising them. But now, there’s something that I’m ready to find out. What’s hiding behind the life

that I have lived.

 I want to grab onto the hand of that fading feeling that was once felt.