Jaysen doesn’t get it.
“We need you at the hospital,” Jaysen says. “You were the last person to see her. People are starting to talk.”
“Let me get the guitar.” It’s hard to control my anger. It’s not Jaysen’s fault. He’s worried just like I am. We’re both on edge. I can’t tell him what I’m about to do. My head is still spinning since leaving Casita Rincón. I need to keep moving forward.
Jaysen hands over my piece.
“Swear to me right now on your abuela’s grave that you’ll stay close to Eury,” I say. “I will kill you if you don’t.”
“Bro, I swear on everything holy. I’ll stick close to Eury. But ’mano, tell me what you getting into so I can help.”
I grab his arm and pull him in for a tight hug. My heart thumps like it’s about to jump out of my chest. I want Jaysen to come with me, but those in las casitas said this journey was mine alone to take.
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay, be careful. What’s that shit your Pops always says? Be safe. Don’t be stupid.”
Jaysen walks back to the hospital. I hail a cab and go over what was said in las casitas. I’m so not prepared.
“There is so much for you to overcome,” Doña Petra said. “The gods will not make it easy.”
The elders in Casita Rincón schooled me on what was up. They said Eury is lost in the Underworld. To gain entrance into that world, I will have to entreat the gods. There are three who hold sway in el Inframundo. The first is Charon. He is the bridge between el Inframundo and our world. He must cross me over. Then there is Dīs Pater, the God of Wealth.
“Everything new in this city has ties to Dīs,” the old man said. “The condos. The new supermarket. Even the club Dīs-traction. They say religion is the opium of the masses. I say money is the drug, and the gods are handing it out like water. Beside him, you will find Guabancex, the Goddess of Chaos. She holds Eury’s fate. She is the ruler of the Underworld, the center of the hurricane.”
They spoke to me of these wild things, and all I could do was try to commit the information to memory. The people in las casitas have been about this life for years. Generations upon generations knowledgeable about gods and their hooks on men. As for me, it is straight-up absurd. Those in las casitas think I don’t have much of a chance. I need to try, tho.
I hold tight to the church pamphlet Doña Petra gave me. Inside the pamphlet are various prayers and simple Taíno symbols. Greetings to the gods, she said. I fold the pamphlet and tuck it back into my pocket.
“Are you a believer?” Doña Petra asked before I left.
I told her the truth. I had to.
“I want to believe,” I say. “This is all new to me.”
“They will use your lack of faith to their advantage,” she said. “Think of the things you are afraid to lose. They will know.”
“Tell him before he goes,” the old man said.
Doña Petra hesitated. “Eury está viva pero pronto tendrá hambre.”
Eury was still alive! I knew it the minute I saw her lying there on the sterile hospital bed that she wasn’t gone.
“If she tastes their food, Eury will remain in el Inframundo,” Doña Petra said.
“How much longer?” I asked.
“No mucho,” she said. “Apúrate que el tiempo se te escapa.”
Time escapes me. If I stop to think about what was said and what happened even for just a second, I will question everything. I can’t. Pops waits by the Kingsbridge Armory. I head back to the scene, back to the place where Eury was taken.
Club Dīs-traction.
Evil lurks in every crevice of this place. It lingers and becomes a beacon for the dead, an entryway to the bridge that connects earth to el Inframundo. This is how Doña Petra explained it to me.
As I approach the massive armory, my anxiety increases. Somewhere within the building, I must make contact with Charon. The cab stops at one end of the immense structure. Pops waits for me at the corner.
“You have your guitar,” Pops says when I greet him. “Good. Let’s go.”
Some at Casita Rincón argued Pops shouldn’t accompany me to the start of the journey. Doña Petra disagreed.
“He knows the way.”
I was so confused when she said that. What else do I not know about Pops? I need information, and I don’t think a church pamphlet with a few verses is going to help. We walk at a steady clip toward the entrance of the club.
“You’ve been to el Inframundo before.”
“Not directly,” he says. “I’ve led people to the bridge.”
“How come I don’t know this about you? I mean, what the hell,” I say, raising my voice because this endless night continues to bring up disturbing surprises. “This is kind of a big deal. Maybe I should have been made aware of how you are connected to spirits?”
Pops stops walking. He stares intensely at me. I am acting out of pocket, but then, who cares? Everything is out of pocket. From seeing Ato to losing Eury to the folks in las casitas to me even entertaining the idea of el Inframundo existing. To find out Pops has a connection to this is almost too much to bear.
“My travels to the bridge have been dictated and led by violence and pain. They are personal to the individuals I guide to their final place. It is not on me to share their journey with you or anyone,” he says. “I will be honest with you—only the dead go to el Inframundo. You are going against the grain. You understand?”
He is firm with me, not angry but direct, and yet I still feel as if I’m in trouble. I grew up not believing in any of this to now find out my own father has ties to the unexplainable. I shouldn’t be going after Eury. I know nothing but a few chords and some bachata songs.
“How am I going to do this?”
“With this.” He points to my heart.
I let out a loud sigh. I’m going to fail.
“Do you trust your father?” Pops lifts my chin up. “I promise to lead you to Charon. What they said en las casitas is true. Think of your history books, the evil caused by men. The misery only magnifies where we are heading. It manifests in things too horrific to describe. I’m not sugarcoating it. I’m afraid for both of us.”
I shake my head. I don’t think Pops understands how pep talks are meant to go.
He digs in his pocket and pulls out the ceramic elephant always situated by the apartment door.
“Every day, you touch this before entering the apartment. You’ve been doing this ever since you were a little kid. The elephant is meant to bring you good luck. Continue to acknowledge the gatekeepers and show them respect,” he says. “You have strength flowing from you. Your ancestors will be with you, as will I. Find solace in this. What do you have of Eury’s?”
I show him the small rosary I took when I went to see Eury at the hospital.
“Your name is Orpheus,” he says. “Remember your gift.”
No one ever really calls me Orpheus. The only person who called me that was Grandma Lynn in North Carolina. When I last saw Grandma Lynn, she could barely see. Moms said the cancer was taking over. She was the first person close to me to become sick. I was so timid around her, like I was afraid anything I said or did would contribute to her suffering. When I said my goodbyes, Grandma Lynn said to me: “You are named after Orpheus, who was a powerful singer and poet. You will be a beautiful singer too.”
Here is Pops invoking the moment in Grandma Lynn’s bedroom when she blessed me.
“I will. I’ll remember where I came from.” The tiny ceramic elephant is now secure in my pocket beside the church pamphlet and Eury’s rosary.
We press on.
It’s almost 4:30 in the morning. The streets are empty except for the occasional straggler. Workers heading home from a late shift. A dressed-up couple laughs, entering an apartment building. A man nods a hello to us before walking by. Soon, Dīs-traction comes into focus. There are no crowds lined up or bodyguards holding them back. The neon sign is unlit.
I shake my shoulders and roll them a bit. I look down at my shoes and wish I had time to change into Timbs. Dress shoes do not instill confidence. I try to rub out the dried bloodstains sprinkled throughout my suit but there’s no point. I’m entering the unknown as is.
“Ready?” Pops asks.
The Kingsbridge Armory is so large, two full-sized football fields could fill the drill floor. The armory was once used to store weapons, bombs, and ammunition. Over the years, the place has hosted boxing fights and a four-hundred-foot shooting range. Residuals of violence can be found in every brick, and I’m walking right into it. So be it. Eury doesn’t belong here or down in el Inframundo. And that’s the truth.
“Yes, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
I walk up to the door of the club only to find it unlocked. This scares the shit out of me because it means whoever is behind the door is surely expecting visitors.
“Hello?” I say. Pops follows behind.
The chairs are not up on the tables like they would be in most restaurants after closing. An uneasy feeling fills the air, a denseness I can’t place. One overhead lamp beams from the now-empty restaurant. I walk toward it.
A hostess appears from within the darkness. She wears the same uniform from earlier in the night and carries a glass filled with what looks like red wine.
“We are here to see Charon,” I say.
Something’s amiss. As she draws nearer, the horror takes shape. Once she passes the overhanging spotlight, I get a good look at her.
“Oh my god,” I say. Tremors take over my hands, spreading to my arms, my legs.
The server is missing a jaw. Half her face is torn off. Bones and crusted, bloody skin hang loose. Her eyes match the blood.
Behind me, Pops mutters to himself. A prayer. A spell. I don’t know.
I never prayed before.
No. That’s not true. When my parents told me they were separating, I prayed that night. I thought it was my fault they couldn’t stay together. Every kid does this. They go through all the times their parents argued and make a list of when they were in the center of that argument. My list wasn’t long, but still.
While I heard my father pack up his things, I lay in my bedroom praying he would change his mind. I didn’t even have any idea who I was praying to. I swore to listen and stop fooling around if this god would keep my parents together. Foolish promises any kid would make.
How will prayers help me now?