JК
Ыоуве Been Warned :: Patterson James
Страница: 78 из 138”
She’s sitting in a rocking chair by the window, wearing the plainest of plain tank dresses -cement gray, if I had to name the color. But what I really notice is how incredibly frail she looks. She’s so thin she’d give Penley a fat complex.
As she glares at me with sunken eyes, I walk toward her and extend my hand. It seems like the right thing to do.
Wrong.
Terribly wrong!
I get no farther than a few steps when those sunken eyes explode with fear. She clutches a set of blue rosary beads in her lap and begins to scream wildly. All hell breaks loose in this claustrophobic room full of crosses.
“Espíritus malos! Espíritus malos! Mantengase lejos de mí. Ella está poseída por espíritus malos!”
Javier gasps. “Mamá!What are you saying? ”
That’s what I want to know, but Javier isn’t translating. Instead, he rushes to her, trying to calm her down. She doesn’t.
She gets worse, in fact, more crazed and agitated.
“Ella está rodeada por espíritus malos!” she screams, her sliver of a body nearly out of control.
Javier grabs her and yells something in Spanish, but it’s as if she can’t see or hear him. She keeps pointing and hollering.
At me.
“Espíritus malos! Espíritus malos!”
Javier’s worried face leaves little doubt that this is something his mother has never done before. “I’m sorry, Kristin, but I think it’s best if you leave.”
“Espíritus malos! Espíritus malos!” the old woman shrieks. She’s also stamping her feet on the floor.
“What does she keep saying?” I ask, as I slowly back out of the room.
“It’s nonsense,” says Javier. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I want to know. Tell me. ”
His mother begins to convulse, her rocking chair now like an electric chair. She bites down so hard on her lower lip that blood begins to trickle. My God!
“Mamá!” yells Javier.
The old woman is jabbing her finger at me.
“Espíritus malos! Espíritus malos!”
“Kristin, I’ll look at your pictures another time. At work. You really need to leave!”
But I can’t yet. “Not until you tell me what she’s saying. I have to know!”
He glares at me, clearly vexed at my persistence, if not my presence.
“C’mon, Javier, tell me!” I plead.
Finally, he does.
“Espíritus malos,” he says. “My mother says you’re possessed by evil spirits. She thinks you’re a devil.
She’s sitting in a rocking chair by the window, wearing the plainest of plain tank dresses -cement gray, if I had to name the color. But what I really notice is how incredibly frail she looks. She’s so thin she’d give Penley a fat complex.
As she glares at me with sunken eyes, I walk toward her and extend my hand. It seems like the right thing to do.
Wrong.
Terribly wrong!
I get no farther than a few steps when those sunken eyes explode with fear. She clutches a set of blue rosary beads in her lap and begins to scream wildly. All hell breaks loose in this claustrophobic room full of crosses.
“Espíritus malos! Espíritus malos! Mantengase lejos de mí. Ella está poseída por espíritus malos!”
Javier gasps. “Mamá!What are you saying? ”
That’s what I want to know, but Javier isn’t translating. Instead, he rushes to her, trying to calm her down. She doesn’t.
She gets worse, in fact, more crazed and agitated.
“Ella está rodeada por espíritus malos!” she screams, her sliver of a body nearly out of control.
Javier grabs her and yells something in Spanish, but it’s as if she can’t see or hear him. She keeps pointing and hollering.
At me.
“Espíritus malos! Espíritus malos!”
Javier’s worried face leaves little doubt that this is something his mother has never done before. “I’m sorry, Kristin, but I think it’s best if you leave.”
“Espíritus malos! Espíritus malos!” the old woman shrieks. She’s also stamping her feet on the floor.
“What does she keep saying?” I ask, as I slowly back out of the room.
“It’s nonsense,” says Javier. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I want to know. Tell me. ”
His mother begins to convulse, her rocking chair now like an electric chair. She bites down so hard on her lower lip that blood begins to trickle. My God!
“Mamá!” yells Javier.
The old woman is jabbing her finger at me.
“Espíritus malos! Espíritus malos!”
“Kristin, I’ll look at your pictures another time. At work. You really need to leave!”
But I can’t yet. “Not until you tell me what she’s saying. I have to know!”
He glares at me, clearly vexed at my persistence, if not my presence.
“C’mon, Javier, tell me!” I plead.
Finally, he does.
“Espíritus malos,” he says. “My mother says you’re possessed by evil spirits. She thinks you’re a devil.