Creatures of the Earth

PALOMA

Along the banks of the Rio Amargo, Paloma sat, still in tears an hour after running away from Canelo. She could hear Quique running from one riversfolk home to another. She hoped he would eventually give up and return to the police station.

She wanted to be alone. Her heart ached with every beat. It was out in the open now: Canelo thought her a fraud. A wannabe. A sham.

Her ears started ringing in the most curious way. The ringing took on a musical quality, soft, harmonious. What was causing it? The vibrations in her feet softly put the idea of the river in her mind. It was the river. The ambient sounds of the river flowing were causing it. Regardless, the ringing immediately drew her sympathy towards the Rio Amargo. At some point, she was unsure if her tears were for her circumstances or for the sorry state of the river. The Rio Amargo had become a glorified creek. It was no wonder the Miramontes worried.

Thinking about the river brought her back. It occurred to her that Canelo only wanted to keep her safe. And maybe she would have indulged him if she were part of the ordinary world. But she was not. She had driven away the evil with that children's song. The rhyme had become a spell, which calmed the dead. She had felt the strange energies flowing in her fingers and in the musical notes. Had it been a coincidence?

No. She refused to believe that. In her blood was a connection to El Mero Mero and to his ancestors, the Myans. It was why the older curanderas spoke of her with awe. Sadly, the magical knowledge of the Myans had vanished with them; even El Mero Mero couldn't tap into that lost power, and depended on his experiments with different herbs to craft medical treatments. And now, there was a threat that Paloma needed to stop. This was a test of her ingenuity.

Making fists with her toes, she closed her eyes and listened with her ears and feet. And then, she said a prayer of clarity.

"The cemetery," she said. She had to face Esteban where he was most powerful.

***

For reasons she did not understand, she never feared the rainforest creatures that might cause her death. And the Nuboso Forest was full of them. She heard them now in the foliage and in the trees. Like her, they had other concerns that night.

The cemetery entrance welcomed her with gloom. And as she entered, she hoped Esteban would not spot her until she was ready. Instinctively, she went to where she always met with Don Aapo. Doña Nazira's grave had been restored. Paloma's ankle still hurt where the dead Nazira had grabbed it.

That gave her an idea, though. Maybe, if she stepped on the soil of the fresh grave, she would feel something. Paloma walked over the grave of Doña Nazira, apologizing in advance, and made fists with her toes.

"Alluda!" cried Lorio.

A vibration came up from the ground, so strong that it made Paloma lift up her foot. She ran towards Lorio to see if she could help him. The boy was cowering on top of a headstone. She scanned the area, but no one was around.

"What's wrong?" said Paloma.

"Paloma?" said Lorio.

"Come to me!" she said, still scanning the area.

"It's down there!" said Lorio. "I saw it!"

"You saw what, boy?" said Esteban, there suddenly with a spade.

"Your doing," said Paloma, frozen. She was not ready for him.

The ground trembled. Ghost lights flowed from each grave, followed by the distinct screeching and popping of the wood that made up the buried coffins. Something was trying to come up.