Read Online Mexican Ghost Tales of the Southwest by Alfred Ávila - Free Book Online Page B

much emotional pain and sorrow could be heard. There was one peculiar thing though. The ghostly woman mourned in a foreign tongue and could not be understood. The words sounded like Spanish, maybe Indian, but the language was unknown to all.
    A few Indians said that on moonlit nights they could see an odd-looking cat—bigger than a puma, three times larger than a puma. It would howl and screech in the faint light. It had not one, but four hairy tails waving in the air. The next day a traveler would usually be found dead and mangled on the road by the cactus patch.
    Everyone in the vicinity lived in fear. At night they would not even venture to the village well for water.
    â€œThe work of the Devil,” some folks whispered, as if they were afraid they might be heard. “The Devil has come in the form of a four-tailed cat to take souls to the Dark Pit. We are hopeless. We are but poor hardworking Indians and peasants. Why does he come to torment us? Have we not suffered enough in this sad life?”
    They lit candles and burned incense to the ancient gods. Others prayed to the god of the Spaniards. But to no avail. The killings continued on the lonely road by the cactus patch. Woe to the ignorant traveler who passed the cactus patch at night. He became a sacrifice for the strange demon.
    Some of the villagers went to see the local
curandera
, or healer. She was their last hope. She would be able to enter the spirit world, seek thereasons for the demon’s terrible acts, and know how to pacify it.
    That evening, the locals gathered in front of the
curandera’s
hut. She came out and lit a half-circle of torches made from thick tree branches soaked in resin. She stood tall behind the burning torches. She pulled out a button of peyote, the sacred god spirit of the
curanderas
and the Tarahumara Indian shamans. With this, she would be able to enter the spirit world and be protected from the evil spirits she would meet.
    The villagers watched as she stood in the flickering light, waving her arms wildly over the flames and chanting the secret words that would put her in a trance. She waved, twisted, and chanted. Suddenly, she stopped. Her eyes became white and she spoke in a a foreign tongue.
    â€œ
Watakushi no haka, doko ni arimasu ka? Watakushi wa sabishii desu!
… My grave, where is it? I am so lonely! …”
    The
curandera
shuddered as she continued in the same language. “Where am I? This is not my land. … This dry, hot, and windy land is strange. It is filled with strange-looking people unknown to me and with strange smells and sounds!
    â€œI was removed from my grave, from the temple grounds of Shinsho, near the village of Katsura. Oh, how I miss the green pine trees! I long for the bamboo groves and mountains of my province. I miss the winter snows.
    â€œWhat place is this? … Am I in Hell? The crying ghost screamed as if it were in terrifying pain. The
curandera’s
body shook violently.
    The people could do nothing other than stare at the
curandera
. She was in a trance, possessed by ademon who spoke gibberish. They could not understand a single word coming out of her mouth.
    â€œDo you people … understand? Oh, dear! How cruel, how cruel!” The Japanese words continued pouring from the healer’s lips.
    Then the healer fell sideways in a faint, barely missing the low-burning candles. The people stared in fright. After a long spell, the
curandera
rose slowly and regained her senses. The villagers were relieved. The torches had almost burned out by this time.
    The
curandera
said, “We must find a way to control this woman’s spirit. I do not know where she is from. She is angered by her present circumstances. Her spirit turns into a vengeful cat, a demonic cat of enormous size that kills out of anger and frustration. We must find someone who has been to many lands and knows her language. One of you must go to the coast, to the town of Acapulco, and find a