Chapter 9

 

LIN

 

– The 49-fold Table - First appearance of the Crowned and Conquering Child
to the Exempt Adept as in the Pastos.
The Vision of the Rose, the Heart of Babalon and of The Birth of the Universe.¹ –

 

“Amazingly I survive, even surrounded by darkness.
I thought it would be impossible to resist, and yet I wake up day after day.
My eyes grow accustomed to the shadows and, because now I can see better,
I understand that in my Human selfishness, I only listened to my reason,
fearing the unknown right from the start...”

---

 

I woke up the same way I'd fallen asleep - alone in an empty house.

Half afraid, I went once more over the entire house, but there was no one else. I worried about Lea, if he'd run away in search of food. If Gabriel wasn't coming home, maybe the kitten had gotten hungry and escaped in search of someone to feed him. I felt sad at the thought he might never come back. Lea had become my only company and, in a way, my only confidant. After all, who could I pour out my sorrows to when my head was filled with demoniac problems?

On the other hand, the fact that Gabriel wasn't home made me feel relieved. I still didn't know how to face him. Out of all that had happened, his reaction had been the only thing I still couldn't understand.

I recalled one of our brief conversations and took a deep breath. Even if I'd managed to gather enough courage to talk to him it would almost surely be in vain. His rules about questions dictated that answers were only needed when the outcome could be changed. Which meant that if there was nothing I could do about it, he wouldn't dignify me with an explanation. And it was obvious there was nothing I could do to avoid his anger.

I got dressed as fast as I could and swallowed a yogurt before leaving for school. He wasn't home, but that didn't mean he couldn't simply show up, literally out of nowhere. If that were to happen I wanted to be as far away as possible. Somewhere in my mind a little voice kept insisting that it would be safer to face him surrounded by other Human Beings.

I arrived at school fifteen minutes earlier and the classroom was still empty. I looked at my chair and squeezed my hands together, trying to determine what would be worse — being at my desk when he arrived or arriving after him. I chose the last. At least if I got in the room after him we'd have four rows of chairs and desks between us. I ran back to the corridor and hid in the only place I felt safe - the girls' bathroom.

I anxiously waited for the first bell and, when I returned to the world of the living, the school was packed with people.

I couldn't help feeling nervous as I walked towards the classroom again and, before going in, took a peek inside. And there he was, in the back of the room, but he wasn't alone. Which would be rather normal, since there were always people around his desk. But this time I couldn't help feel surprised and worried about the company he kept. Steph was standing next to him and, by her expression, it looked like a serious talk.

I walked to my place, unable to avert my gaze. He looked calm, his face cold and expressionless like stone, although he was clearly paying attention to what she was saying. Steph seemed worked up. It was rare seeing her at school so early in the morning, but even more unusual to see that grave expression on her face.

I pulled my chair, still watching them, and someone sighed right next to me.

"You've noticed it too, hmm?" I looked up and gave her a smile.

"Morning. What's going on?" I asked and Joanne sighed again.

"Don't know, but nothing good, that's for sure," she answered and I couldn't push away the bad feeling that swept over me. What had happened?

"Did they get into fight?" I asked, half afraid, even though I knew better. Him getting angry would most certainly mean the end of someone's life. I'd learned that all too well, last Tuesday, when Steven had almost died.

"Don't know. All I know is that Tuesday, after school, we were all worrying about you, since you disappeared and didn't come to class. He came to us and told us you weren't feeling well, and that you'd gone home earlier. He assured us it wasn't anything serious and we went our ways. We were near the bus stop when Steph remembered she still had your things and decided to come back, to hand them to your cousin. And yesterday, well, you missed class, but so did she ... and him. I thought you had gotten worse or something, and that Gabriel had to stay home to look after you, but when I called no one picked up. The same happened when I tried to call Steph. And today they were already downstairs, talking, when I arrived. They came up together and it's been like that," she concluded with a hint of irony and I peered back towards them. Now he was speaking and Steph listening with a hard, contained expression.

"I ..." I tried to come up with an excuse, but Joanne raised her hand, turning towards the board, clearly angry.

"Please! Don't even try," she cut me off dryly. "You may as well answer as she did. That it is none of my business!"

I gaped in shock. I could hardly believe Steph had told her something like that.

The teacher came in a little before the second bell and Steph returned to her seat, beside mine. I watched her for a moment trying to figure out what to say, and decided to act like nothing had happened.

"Morning," I greeted her with my best smile, but her answer was short and dry.

"Morning." She didn't even turn to look at me.

"Steph, is everything okay?" I asked, fearing her answer, and she took out her notebook, placing it on the desk.

"Fine. And you? Feeling better?" she asked me in the same tone, turning the pages, and my heart sank. Something had happened, something very serious.

"Yeah," I replied, knowing she didn't care either way.

It was the quietest English class I'd ever attended. Joanne was obviously hurt, to the point that she was now pretending Stephanie didn't exist. And, even though I didn't see a reason why, Steph seemed to be mad at me, her answers to my everyday questions all hard and dry. Worrying about her, I couldn't help notice that she talked like that to everyone, classmates and teachers alike. And, when the bell sounded once again, she stood up and went back to Gabriel's desk, as if their talk had been cut off.

I felt as if my brain was about to melt. First Michael, and now this!

After that, during English Literature there was no chance for talks, and so I spent my two hours in class trying to figure out what could have happened. She'd missed school on Wednesday, like me, like him. So it had to be him, I decided. He'd done something to her and I needed to find out what!

When class was over I had already made up my mind and readied my Soul for the shock that would come from having to walk up to him and request a conversation. Joanne quickly gathered her stuff and stormed out of the room, avoiding having to look either one of us in the face. Steph took her time, looking surprisingly calm, and then went to his desk. I followed her with my gaze and was surprised to see that he was waiting for her. I hugged my books tighter and followed her steps, shortening the distance between us. Still, I couldn't help hesitating when he raised his gaze to look at me. But there was nothing left from the furious anger that had burned in his eyes two days ago. Just to be sure, I kept a safe distance and swallowed dry before speaking, making sure my voice wouldn't falter.

"I ... need to have a word with you," I stated, but it wasn't him who answered.

"I'm sorry." I turned my gaze towards Steph and she took a step to stand beside him, locking her arm with his. "But Gabriel and I have plans," she stated with an unmistakable superior tone and I felt once more as if I'd just crossed some mysterious portal to another dimension. I looked at him in disbelief, but he remained calm and indifferent. "Excuse us," Steph said again, pulling him by the arm, and he followed her, keeping up with her pace without looking back even once.

I stood there, unable to react, confused. What was going on? How was this possible? I'd missed school for one day and the whole world had changed without me even noticing it! I realized I was alone, as I'd been last night at home, and the feeling of loss that came over me caught me by surprise.

Raising my head I took a deep breath. I couldn't allow myself to be defeated by my own feelings. I had to remain calm to think clearly. Above all, I had to talk with him and make him tell me what had happened. But, right there and then, I had to go home!

I left the classroom as fast as my feet would allow me, fearing that Michael might be looking for me. It took all of my strength not to give into temptation and go to him, even if only to look at him from afar as I usually did. My heart kept insisting that leaving without seeing him at least once was the worst mistake of my life; that if I went to him all that mess would become miraculously less complicated, since near him all dark shadows lost their strength. However, I forced myself to keep my own decision and, ignoring my pained heart, went back home.

I closed the door knowing he wouldn't be in. I was alone and suddenly the house seemed bigger and somehow scarier. I felt small and insignificant, and wished I could call Paris just to hear my mom's voice. But I could hardly justify my sudden phone call and so I chose to go up to my room instead.

Remain calm, I reminded myself. Think coldly about all that had happened.

The way Steph had talked, her posture and the way she'd grabbed his arm, it looked almost as if he belonged to her. But how could that be? She had Mark, right? And he, he'd what? Was going out with her? Why? What for? To torture me? Maybe he'd noticed I'd decided to keep my distance from Michael. Maybe this was his way of showing me all I had to lose from trying to the delay the fulfillment of our Contract. Was that it? And what if she'd somehow found out the truth? Last Tuesday he'd almost killed someone. I'd never seen him so upset. Maybe he'd done something weird and she had seen him. Was that what they'd secretly spent the day talking about?

Either way, one thing was certain, he was both the reason and the solution for that problem. Besides it looked like trying to talk with Steph about it wasn't going to be of much use. If she already knew what he was, it was obvious she had decided to accept it. If she didn't, I had no way to try and convince her to keep her distance from him.

I took a deep breath, feeling a bit better. Still, all that musing had stolen my appetite, which was as good, since it meant I didn't have to think about what to cook for lunch. I chose to take a bath instead, hoping the hot water would grant me some measure of mental peacefulness, silencing, even if only for a few minutes, the torrent of thought that burned in my brain.

I sat on the edge of the bathtub and closed the drain, opening the tap. It had been a long time since I'd allowed myself the luxury of soaking in a tub filled with hot water.

When the tub was finally filled, with steam swirling all around, I took off my clothes and got in slowly, allowing my skin to get use to the heat. It took me a few minutes to be able to dive my head under water, and I was finally able to relax, surrounded by that soft warmth that almost allowed me to forget that that body actually belonged to me. I felt even better when the water spread through my hair, filling my ears as if I'd just stepped into another world, silence surrounding me, all other sounds indistinct and distant. I came back to the surface when my lungs started complaining from lack of air and took a deep breath. I kept as quiet as possible, trying to erase all other noises and centered my attention on the heat around me, allowing my body to slightly float.

The sound of a small bell echoed through the bathroom, startling me, but I immediately identified it as belonging to Lea. I tried to sit up to look at the floor, hoping to see him, glad that he'd returned, but my body didn't obey me, remaining stiff and motionless.

My heart jumped in panic, my eyes darting in every direction, terrified by what little I could see. I tried as hard as I could to move my arms, but it was useless. I wanted to call for help, but by then my thoughts had begun to fragment incoherently, and the small bell rang once again, this time much closer to me. My gagging breath echoed all around me and I desperately tried to see what was happening, which was very little since I couldn't move my head. Suddenly a big, hard hand landed on my head and pushed me down, and all I could do was take a sharp breath before going underwater.

Once more surrounded by silence, all I could hear was the crazed beating of my heart, drumming in my ears. I commanded my hands to obey me and push me back to the surface, but it was no use. Unable to close my eyes, I saw a distorted face peering down at me from the surface, his hand keeping my head glued to the bottom of the tub. It didn't take long for my chest to start burning painfully, big bubbles of air escaping my lips. Hot water filled my mouth and nose, invading my respiratory track, and pain tore at me from inside. Terrified, I was sure I was about to die, my body still refusing to obey even though my life depended on it. And all I could think about was how much I regretted the pain my death was sure to bring my mom, when she heard the terrible news that I'd drowned in my own bathroom.

My vision darkened, the pain now excruciating, and then something ice-cold reached inside the hot water and grabbed my arm, pulling me up. Before I could even realize that I could move again, my hands regained their freedom and desperately fought to keep me at the surface. The air filled my lungs, hurting me and making me cough. I threw up water, gagging and fighting to breathe at the same time, as I tried to escape as fast as I could from that assassin liquid. My panicky hands reached out and grabbed the first thing they touched, pulling it in an absurd attempt to help me get up. The curtain tore and the rod fell, making me slip backwards, my feet sliding against the bottom of the tub and, once more, I was pulled back to the surface. I opened my eyes, fighting for each breath, my drenched hair covering my mouth and nose, suffocating me, and my terror reached its peak when I saw him, right there, unexpectedly too close to me. His hand was still around my arm, his strength hurting me and, without a thought, I hit him as hard as I could.

The striking sound of my hand against his face broke the wave of panic that had come over me, and I stared at him, unable to move. Gabriel slowly released my arm and took a hand to his cheek, looking shocked. Once more I forgot to breath and my body shook uncontrollably. He stared at me, still in disbelief, and I slid backwards, gluing my back against the wall and pulling the fallen curtain over me, as if that thin plastic sheet could somehow protect me. His dark gaze became severe, then furious, and I knew that, although I'd been saved from drowning, nothing could save me from his anger. I had nowhere to run! This was the end. I closed my eyes hard, cringing from the pain that would surely follow, but nothing happened.

The screeching sound coming from downstairs startled me and I looked for him, but he was gone. I pulled my trembling knees up holding them against my chest. Screams echoed through the entire house, Human screams, and I pressed my hands against my ears. I didn't want to hear! I didn't want to know! I couldn't think of anything except how much I wished I could disappear to somewhere where he could never reach me.

Finally, everything was silent again, but still I couldn't move. The sound of the water droplets falling from my wet hair over the water surface was the only sound I could hear, and I sat there for what seemed like an eternity.

A sneeze itched at my nose and its sound cut off the silence that surrounded me. The water had cooled down and I was starting to feel cold.

I raised my head in fear and looked around. He hadn't returned. I carefully got up, bracing myself against the wall, and pulled a towel, wrapping it around my cold body, as I tried to put my thoughts in order. I took a deep breath, my lungs still hurting, and told myself I had to get out of that water. Even so, I hesitated as I faced the door, fearing what awaited me on the other side, and finally ended up opening it. Outside everything was silent, and so I ran to my room, closing the door behind me. I took a hand to my chest, trying to quiet my terrified heart, and took a deep breath, my throat burning. Calm down ... everything's fine ... everything's fine ... let's just get dressed, I repeated to myself, firmly commanding my every single move as if I were someone else taking care of me. And it actually worked, until I looked for my hairbrush and didn't find it. The bathroom! My heart jumped to another crazed run, my lungs resenting it as my breath became ragged. I didn't want to have to go back to the bathroom! Which was ridiculous, to say the least. Just calm down! I scolded myself. It's over, he's gone. Besides, we won't be able to avoid going to the bathroom forever, right? There's nothing to fear. We're just going to fetch my brush. I kept my fear under control and went to the door.

I opened it slowly, peering down the corridor. No one. Silence. I practically ran to the bathroom, but then stopped. My gaze went to the stairs. What had happened downstairs? I swallowed hard and went back to counting inspirations. I couldn't avoid going downstairs as much as I couldn't avoid the bathroom.

I held on to the handrail and went down the stairs, my legs shaking at every step. I stopped as I reached the base, my sweaty hands refusing to let go of the handrail, locking me in place. Everything's fine. This is my home! There's nothing to fear, I repeated and managed to release the titanic force with which my fingers gripped the polished wood.

I recalled hearing screams and my mind alerted me that I was probably about to find someone, or something dead in my living room. I readied myself for what awaited me and peered inside.

The first thing I did was make sure he really wasn't there and, against my bleakest expectations, the room looked thankfully empty.

Suddenly, my gaze fell upon a small bundle, much smaller than a Human Being, and my heart jumped as I understood what I was seeing. I rushed towards him, completely forgetting my fears, and stopped a step away from him, covering my mouth with my hands to stifle a scream of horror. Lying in a growing pool of blood was the little kitten.

My eyes stung and I ordered myself to react. What to do? I urgently tried to decide, but my gaze was caught by the small, golden bell pending from his collar and a cold fear landed on my stomach, making me take a step back. That had been the sound I'd heard moments before I had been rendered unable to move, right before someone had tried to drown me! Before I wouldn't have even considered the crazy idea that now crossed my mind. But after all that I'd seen in the last few days ...

I took a deep breath and squeezed my nervous hands together. I swallowed before trying to speak, but still my voice betrayed me.

"Was it ... you?" I asked and felt the painful effort my vocal cords had to do to emit that sound. My throat hurt due to all the coughing and gagging, and my voice sounded hoarse and tired.

For a moment I felt ridiculous, standing there, not lifting a single finger to help that poor animal. But then I saw him shudder, which left me immediately alert, and his silver eyes opened to look at me. He instantly tried to stand up, baring his small sharp teeth as he hissed threateningly, making me take another step back. But his thin paws trembled and buckled under him, and more blood gushed from the deep cut that tore his back. Even then he kept on threatening me, although he probably knew there was nothing he could do against me, and my eyes fell on that pool of blood that kept getting larger by the minute. What to do? If this goes on he'll end up dying. My legs moved instinctively as the word death echoed in my mind.

I ran as fast as I could towards the kitchen and, with trembling, urgent hands, grabbed a bowl, filling it with clean water. I opened two drawers until I found the right one and took out a clean cloth. I couldn't just stand there and let him die. In truth, I had more than a few problems when the matter implied dealing with death. I just couldn't allow it to come into that house and claim a life.

I ran back to the living room and, refusing to think about anything else, knelt next to the kitten, trying to find the best way to touch him. The small cat hissed at me once more and, with a surprisingly fast move for someone about to die, scratched my hand with one of his front paws.

"Stop that!" I scolded him, angry, noticing the blood had started to ooze even faster due to his thoughtless movements. "Let me help! I can't let you die," I yelled, the weight of the idea alone crushing me, and he stopped emitting those threatening sounds, staring at me with eyes too bright.

I took his sudden quietness as a sign that he'd allow me to get closer and carefully dipped the cloth in the water to clean his injury. The tiny animal shuddered, closing his eyes, his paws twitching and contracting involuntarily.

The blood wouldn't stop flowing and despair started to creep in. He was quickly getting weaker and the water I'd brought had changed color completely.

"I don't know what to do," I confessed in a pained whisper. "I can't even understand the seriousness of your injury, much less how to fix it." I squeezed the cloth stained with blood. "How can I help? Can I call a veterinarian? Please, I don't want you to die. Help me help you!" I pleaded, softly caressing his dark, twitching head, and the sound of his bell echoed all around me, startling me, since it was the same sound I'd heard in the bathroom.

Before my baffled gaze, I watched as his small, furry body started to glow and change. I immediately tried to step back, but ended up falling on my butt, as I watch what had been a small cat slowly take on Human form. And then all that was left was what looked like a child, lying on a pool of blood.

His gasping breath filled the room, between moans of pain that propelled me back to action. I dragged myself to his side again, and as delicately as possible, pulled the small hand that pressured his wound, watching him in horror. To my surprise his skin was warm, even feverish as with any Human Being, and his pained expression dug deep into my heart. He was just a small boy.

"Everything will be all right, everything will be all right," I repeated, more for my benefit than his, refusing to think about what he was or the fact that he'd just tried to kill me. The cut that tore his soft skin was deep, stretching from the side of his rib cage to his belly, and it kept bleeding profusely with each forced inspiration. "Jesus! This, this needs stitches!" I was sure as my panic grew. How could I simply take him to a hospital? It was impossible! "Okay, okay, think," I ordered myself, trying to stop my hands from shaking. "I'll be right back." I jumped to my feet, stumbling as I rushed out of the room.

I ran upstairs into the bathroom and ransacked the medicine cabinet, throwing the unneeded stuff over my shoulder and filling the small laundry basket with bandages, a pack of gauze, tape, cotton and a bottle of Betadine solution. I ran downstairs once again, almost tripping on the stairs, and went back to his side. He was still there, lying in that pool of blood that had clearly grew in my absence.

"This is going to hurt," I warned nervously as I dipped a cotton ball in Betadine and started to carefully clean his wound. His body twitched and trembled, his small hands closed tight, small droplets of sweat shining on his brow. But still he didn't cry, his screams of pain forcibly muffled behind clenched lips as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Even after cleaning his wound, the bleeding wouldn't stop. Of course he needed stitching, I told myself once more and even considered doing it, but immediately gave up on the idea. I'd probably end up making things worse. In despair I almost called Michael, needing to share the responsibility with someone else, but stopped myself. It would only make the situation even more complicated and I'd have a lot of explaining to do.

I placed the gauze pads over his wound, nervously watching as they rapidly changed color, and tied them in place with the white bandages, wrapping them around his thin torso, careful not to move him too much. When I finished he was breathing more softly, although from time to time his body still twitched, his childish face crossed by an expression of pain. I took a deep breath and sat there, watching over him, until he became completely still, as if he'd fallen asleep.

Lying like that on my living room floor he looked like any regular six-year-old boy. His hair was black, his skin soft like a child's. He was naked except for the red ribbon around his neck with its small bell. He was small and thin and I was sure I could easily pick him up. I considered the idea, wanting to take him upstairs where he'd be more comfortable, but was afraid to move him. And so I stood up and grabbed one of Gabriel's blankets, carefully folded over an empty suitcase, and a pillow from the couch. I went back to him and watched him for a moment. That was not a child, I sternly reminded myself. I couldn't allow his innocent appearance to deceive me. That boy had attacked me just a few moments ago!

Even so I covered his naked body and carefully raised his head to place it on the pillow. What else could I do? The extent of his injuries worried me and I was sure he'd only get worse.

I gathered all the bloodied things and took them to the kitchen. Then, with nothing else to do, I went back to him, sitting next to his unconscious body, standing watch, waiting for the worse. I wondered where Gabriel had gone. I was sure he'd been the one to hurt him, but his soft expression as he caressed the small cat's fur was still present in my mind. Maybe he'd lost control. I was sure he hadn't meant to kill him, or he'd done it without a doubt. Either way, right then he was the only one I knew who could help that child.

 

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