up.”
“I understand. Mind if I sit next to you?”
“No, of course not...”
Padre Salas looked towards the altar, and then brought his hands together in front of his lips.
“Although it’s been years since I practised, I still like people to call me Padre... I think of it as a detail...”
“That’s okay...”
“We’re here to talk openly. If the Devil exists, then this is not the place where he would feel the most at home,” he said, laughing.
Carlos turned his surprised face towards the Mexican.
“If the Devil exists?”
“Mr Miranda, I believe in God, I can assure you, but I also have my questions. If you think you’re talking to a man with no doubts, then you’d better think again.”
“No... it’s alright...”
“You also had faith at one point, your father told me. Then the doubts crept in, followed by the certainty that there wasn’t anything... outside of this world. Now the doubts are returning, aren’t they?”
Carlos waited an indeterminable amount of time before responding. He hoped to absorb the reprimand this stranger was throwing at him, perhaps if only to provoke him, perhaps if only to make himself complicit.
“A lot of the time I don’t know what to think, but what I do know is that I’m having more and more doubts about what I believe in.”
“And you’re increasingly more sure that your daughter is trapped in Hell, is that so?”
“Yes.”
“And how did you come that that conclusion?”
“I don’t know: you’re the priest. “
The man contained a faint smile. After each sentence, he always turned his face back towards the altar, as if seeking inspiration from the image of Christ.
“I have carried out some exorcisms, but that was many years ago now. It’s a terrible experience, and that’s why I left the priesthood and came to Spain. Like I told you, I also have my doubts. It never ceases to intrigue me that no matter how developed a country is, however many fewer cases of possession, miracles, or apparitions... there’s...”
“That would go to prove that they’re just an invention of man.”
“It’s possible. Like I said, it’s intriguing. But, at the same time, in the developed countries you get the clearer, more evident cases: educated people, like yourself, who experience strange things; people who don’t even believe in God, and then one day they find that their empirical and sensory world can’t provide an answer for a concrete fact...”
Carlos looked intensely at Padre Salas. He found himself with an intelligent person, of agile tongue, and very much in control of his own words.
“It’s incredible, but I get the feeling that you’ve prepared for this little meeting.”
“Not really, no. I’m actually a little afraid, to tell you the truth.”
“Afraid?”
“Yes, afraid. On the one hand, getting myself involved in something like this again doesn’t thrill me in the slightest, although Esteban, your father, deserves to have me make the effort; on the other hand... like I said, I’d like you to tell me how your daughter’s ended up in Hell.”
“Well, my father’s already told you...”
“I know, I know. I just want to hear your version which, I’m sure after everything that’s happened, you have ready.”
“Well... I believe my daughter was being tormented for some time. There are some drawings that demonstrate that. I also spoke with a friend of hers from school, who confirmed Laura’s fears. She had nightmares, and felt like she was being pursued... Then there’s the dream I had...”
Padre Salas became restless in his seat.
“A dream? Very interesting...”
“Yes. I dreamt that on the day of the accident, some spectral beings took over my daughter. That then caused my wife to lose control of the vehicle, and...”
“Just like what happened to you this very morning... Your father’s already told me.”
“Yes. I saw my own daughter... possessed.”
The priest got up, and took a walk down the main aisle
“I understand. Mind if I sit next to you?”
“No, of course not...”
Padre Salas looked towards the altar, and then brought his hands together in front of his lips.
“Although it’s been years since I practised, I still like people to call me Padre... I think of it as a detail...”
“That’s okay...”
“We’re here to talk openly. If the Devil exists, then this is not the place where he would feel the most at home,” he said, laughing.
Carlos turned his surprised face towards the Mexican.
“If the Devil exists?”
“Mr Miranda, I believe in God, I can assure you, but I also have my questions. If you think you’re talking to a man with no doubts, then you’d better think again.”
“No... it’s alright...”
“You also had faith at one point, your father told me. Then the doubts crept in, followed by the certainty that there wasn’t anything... outside of this world. Now the doubts are returning, aren’t they?”
Carlos waited an indeterminable amount of time before responding. He hoped to absorb the reprimand this stranger was throwing at him, perhaps if only to provoke him, perhaps if only to make himself complicit.
“A lot of the time I don’t know what to think, but what I do know is that I’m having more and more doubts about what I believe in.”
“And you’re increasingly more sure that your daughter is trapped in Hell, is that so?”
“Yes.”
“And how did you come that that conclusion?”
“I don’t know: you’re the priest. “
The man contained a faint smile. After each sentence, he always turned his face back towards the altar, as if seeking inspiration from the image of Christ.
“I have carried out some exorcisms, but that was many years ago now. It’s a terrible experience, and that’s why I left the priesthood and came to Spain. Like I told you, I also have my doubts. It never ceases to intrigue me that no matter how developed a country is, however many fewer cases of possession, miracles, or apparitions... there’s...”
“That would go to prove that they’re just an invention of man.”
“It’s possible. Like I said, it’s intriguing. But, at the same time, in the developed countries you get the clearer, more evident cases: educated people, like yourself, who experience strange things; people who don’t even believe in God, and then one day they find that their empirical and sensory world can’t provide an answer for a concrete fact...”
Carlos looked intensely at Padre Salas. He found himself with an intelligent person, of agile tongue, and very much in control of his own words.
“It’s incredible, but I get the feeling that you’ve prepared for this little meeting.”
“Not really, no. I’m actually a little afraid, to tell you the truth.”
“Afraid?”
“Yes, afraid. On the one hand, getting myself involved in something like this again doesn’t thrill me in the slightest, although Esteban, your father, deserves to have me make the effort; on the other hand... like I said, I’d like you to tell me how your daughter’s ended up in Hell.”
“Well, my father’s already told you...”
“I know, I know. I just want to hear your version which, I’m sure after everything that’s happened, you have ready.”
“Well... I believe my daughter was being tormented for some time. There are some drawings that demonstrate that. I also spoke with a friend of hers from school, who confirmed Laura’s fears. She had nightmares, and felt like she was being pursued... Then there’s the dream I had...”
Padre Salas became restless in his seat.
“A dream? Very interesting...”
“Yes. I dreamt that on the day of the accident, some spectral beings took over my daughter. That then caused my wife to lose control of the vehicle, and...”
“Just like what happened to you this very morning... Your father’s already told me.”
“Yes. I saw my own daughter... possessed.”
The priest got up, and took a walk down the main aisle
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