The Muerte Bag
(Interlude)
By
Robby Richardson
(Loosely Based on Actual Events)
I wish I didn’t have to start off this story with such a cliché line but “when in Rome right”? It was a dark and stormy night as we exited my cousin’s ancient navy blue Buick. Lighting cracked the sky as we approached a small two story town house. My cousin began to knock furiously on the door as she held up her black wind breaker over her hair. The rain poured down as if every angel was crying. “Come on,” she yelled as she banged harder, “hey Jess who exactly are you taking me to”? “You said you needed to talk to somebody right . . . somebody who can help guide you”. Straightening my baseball hat I gave a soft, “yea but I don’t want to see a priest,” she turned to me her still young face could make any man’s heart skip a beat. “This is my priest. This is who I go to talk to when I feel lost,” she knocked again, “if you don’t mind would you tell me why you want to speak to a priest”. “I don’t want to speak to a priest. I want to speak to more of a guide then anything”. The rain began to fall harder, “a spiritual guide,” shrugging he replied “I guess”? As Jessica pounded on the door harder, “so is she a Wiccan priest then”? She nodded, “a priestess but she is the wisest person I have ever known and has made me the person I am today”.
The door opened slowly like something out of a horror movie, “Jess are you sure,” “relax Robby,” as she was already through the door. However I was more reluctant than she appeared as she walked in like it was a place she visited every day. A small corridor appeared in front of me as it looked like a place I had never seen before. It had candles over every surface there were was no furniture in the kitchen and as I entered I noticed a large living room with a staircase twirling vertically. The door frame to a full bathroom stood in the opposite corner. The townhouse seemed to lack any technology there was no television, no radio, not even a clock. “You brought the money right,” reaching into my black suede coat I took out the money, “not now when she asks for it”. “Yeah well this is half my paycheck and I just want to make sure that you are still good for your word”. “I am your cousin,” she said looking slightly insulted, “I promised you a money back guarantee and I stand by that.” Nodding my appreciation I turned back to the door, “who opened the door”?
“I did,” a woman said as she moved around the banister of the kitchen, “where the hell did you come from”?! The woman had stringy blond hair that looked dirty and matted. Her face was aged but she smiled as she entered the room, a small mole above her lip. She reminded me a little of what Goldie Hawn looked like back in the day. She was wearing a black dress with pearls made from the darkest coals. She had black rhinestones over it and looked more like a gypsy attending a funeral. Her hair was tied back in a tight bun as she smiled when she saw my cousin, “my dear Jess back so soon are we”? The priestess walked up to her and they both embraced in a hug, “how is everything going did you follow my advice”? My cousin nodded, “yeah I am moving back to Arizona”. “Your moving back to Arizona,” my words seemed to reverberate off the walls as they both turned to me. Ignoring the awkwardness of the situation, “when the hell were you going to tell me”? Giving me a little smile, “I was going to tell you at dinner, you know afterwards”. Patting her shoulder the woman moved forward, “why don’t you wait upstairs and let me talk with your cousin”. She nodded and gave me a little smile, “I’ll be around your going to be a while so just come wake me when you’re ready”.
Directing her hand towards the stairs I watched my cousin disappear up them and until her heels disappeared around the corner the priestess turned to me. “Please sit down,” she motioned towards a small circular table in the middle of the living room. Pulling the wooden chair out, I sat down as she seemed to be examining me. Finally when I had settled somewhat she spoke, “so your cousin was vague on why she brought you to me, what is it that you are looking for exactly”? “First I’d like to ask you a question,” she looked puzzled but replaced it with a warm smile, “what faith are you”? “Faith,” she repeated almost stunned by the question, “yeah because I am not looking for a priestess,” “well don’t think of me as one . . . think of me more as a guide for people”. She smiled when she saw the look appear on my face, “I direct people were to go and am quite successful at it because my guidance usually ends up for the better in the end”.
“So what faith are you,” she shook her head, “why don’t we dispense with the whole faith and religion and get down to what really is bothering you, if you don’t like where I will take it, you and your cousin Jess can leave.” We stared at each other and finally I reached in and pulled out the money, “two hundred dollars,” she shook her head. “That is just the initial fee darling, you have bought my time which is most beneficial for you”. She reached down for the money but I quickly placed my hand on top of it, “you’ll get the money if I like where this is going . . . right”? I paused as she quickly gave a “yes . . . fine . . . . whatever you like”. She pulled out the opposite chair and took a seat as she examined the candles and then her attention returned to me. “So what exactly is it you are looking for,” she folded her hands, “well I am a writer and I feel lost”. She smiled, “maybe you are trying to find yourself,” I furrowed my brow in confusion. “It is only when we are lost that we are truly found,” rolling my eyes, “alright ignoring the cliché lines can I continue”? Giving a small nod, “I have written several books and trying to become the greatest horror writer, if that Stephen King would just recognize my talent.” She smiled, “well somebody has a high opinion of themselves”? I shook my head, “no it’s not that it’s just I consider myself more as an idea factory”.
Holding up her hand she stopped me, “I am a little confused, I just don’t understand what you are asking”? I gulped as I whispered, “can you keep a secret”? “I have a strict confidentiality clause with all of my souls and I adhere to that clause”. Knowing that this was probably the only chance I would have or be willing to take to search for a guiding spirit I decided to reveal my intentions.
I took a deep breath, “I’m all out of ideas”. “Excuse me,” she said as her eyes seemed to flutter wildly. “I mean I have a ton of ideas, but they aren’t for the book I am working on and I don’t have the money to put out the other one’s I’m working on. There are just so many ideas in my head that I can’t connect them”. “So why don’t you just take that money you were going to put for the book your having trouble with and put it towards the other books you are currently working on”? I shook my head, “I have lost my way with all the problems I had with the books and with my publishers. With all the editing problems I had with my book people don’t take me as a serious writer. It’s all I think about it . . . dream about, it’s my destiny and who I am. Without writing there would be no me,” she held up her hand, “I understand that you have passion for your hobby but how do I fit into all of this”? “I have all these ideas in my head but I can’t seem to put them together, I need to find my path and find the connection. I need to find who I am as a writer and as an individual”. She smiled, “so you want an inward journey of self discovery”. I shrugged, “I don’t know but that sounds like something that might help me connect all these ideas together.” “Well I do have something but it is sort of a secret and very costly,” I couldn’t hide my suspicion I almost wanted to say sarcastically “of course it’s secret and costly”. Trying to hide my sarcasm, “and I suppose nobody has ever seen it before am I right”? She nodded and I finally couldn’t take it I stood up, “well I think that we are done here”.
Looking surprised she stopped, “wait why are you leaving”? “I am not a fool and I will not be taken advantage of, I wanted to speak to somebody who could help an all my cousin did was take me to a crook”. I wagged my finger at her, “I am going upstairs and letting my cousin know about you”.
I saw her face grow stern, “I will not sit here and tolerate being called a fraud. I have powers that go beyond this realm and will not tolerate somebody calling me a liar!” I shrugged, “well I haven’t seen anything to validate this claim, and it sounds like you’re just a bunch of talk.” In such a waspish tone she snapped, “A bunch of talk am I”? We froze as I nodded, “yeah and the only one that has been boasting about you is my cousin, your not going to insult my intelligence by playing me as a fool”. “If I prove myself to you, will you take back what you said,” “for how much”? She shook her head, “no price,” staring at her in disbelief I waited for a catch that didn’t come. “Sure,” I said after several minutes, “and if I do this you will sit back down and trust me”? “Trust you, no . . . listen, yes,” I said and she smiled “that’s the best I am going to get aren’t I”? I nodded and she took that as final of the conversation. She licked her fingers as she reached in to her pocket to remove a pencil and handed it to me. “Do you want to verify that it is a real pencil,” I looked at it puzzled, “why does it matter”? Returning to the chair, she smiled, “I thought you would like to see something interesting . . . not to play you as a fool.” She returned to her chair as she placed the pencil in the middle of the table.
“And what do you want me to do,” shaking her head she replied, “nothing, just watch”. I shrugged “alright” as she just gave a little smile and pointed her index finger at the pencil. She hovered her finger over it as she closed her eyes. The seconds past as we sat around the table after several minutes boredom began to set in and soon my attention began to drift. My eyes were focused on the pencil, but my mind had left my body. I had no idea where it had gone but it wasn’t in the small two story town house. As the boredom continued to mount, I waited for something to happen and when my leg began to shake in frustration I felt my patience draining. She was playing me for a fool and I wouldn’t fall for it. And then just when I was about to rise from my chair something happened that I thought I had imagined. The pencil began to shake every so slightly, I wanted to talk but when I felt my mouth had filled with cotton talking had become difficult.
The pencil rolled over in its spot and soon I felt my shock turn to doubt. Feeling an increasing urge to leave again I decided to humor her for a bit longer. When I saw the pen begin to turn my mouth fell open. I watched the pen begin to circle in a clockwise pattern. I held my breath as I watched it make a full circle and then another, then another. The pencil began to spin faster as I looked up and saw the woman’s face turn red and strain as if her mind was exploding. Finally the pencil slowed and the woman collapsed off the chair spilling onto the floor. Ignoring my own falling chair, I grabbed at the woman as she shook her head in complete exhaustion. Straightening herself up, she flattened her dress as she waved me away, “don’t worry dear happens all the time . . . did it subdue your doubt?” I took her hand but to my hope there was nothing there as she withdrew it slowly whispering, “Satisfied”? I turned back to the table and grabbed the pencil and hoped to see something to explain the paranormal activity. Finding nothing to help my case I turned up to her, “how did you . . .” I couldn’t finish my sentence as she smiled, “I always love seeing people’s reaction to that, if you like that you should see me fly”.
I shook my head almost unable to contain myself, “you can fly”? She nodded as if it was not quite that interesting, “so now that I am done can we move on after all I do have other souls to save”. I crossed my arms, “fly for me,” she shook her head, “I have proved myself enough to you, now how can I help you”? “If you fly for me, I will tell you everything and you will have a customer for life.” I watched her ponder it, “and just think you would be guiding an author too”.
Rolling her eyes “very well, but if you every question me again I will make sure that bad luck will follow you for all time”. “Sure,” I said trying to hide my growing laughter, “no if I don’t do it for very long it is only because I have been using my mind to impress teenagers”. I smirked, “so then it is all in the mind,” smacking my chest playfully in frustration, “of course it is you silly boy! How else would I be able to do what I do”? I shrugged, “faith,” she began to laugh hard as she clenched her bosom and then slapped me in my shoulder. “You’re alright there Robby,” she wagged her finger, “your cousin always told me you were full of laughs”. She wiped a tear from her eye as she made her way over to a small corridor which led to an unknown location. For me where it led didn’t matter, if she claimed that she could fly I would love to be the first to see it. She rubbed her hands together and began to breathe in and out. She reminded me of a basketball player preparing to enter the game. She raised her head back and her eyes closed once again. The candlelight danced off the walls as I watched intently waiting for her to supposedly fly. How would it be? Would she fly across the room cackling like the witch from Wizard of Oz?
I watched her place her palms on the wall and using her muscles she climbed up the wall as her feet dangled in the air. I was surprised that a woman her size was able to hold herself up like that, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do a thing like that. Almost lost completely in my thoughts I could have missed her hands pulling away from the walls fast as she hovered there for a millisecond and her palms slammed back to the wall. My mouth dropped open again as I watched her do it again. And with that she removed them one more time and fell to her feet. Her breathing was heavy as if she had run a marathon, and after several seconds she caught her breath. Straightening herself up again she walked back over to the table and I saw the exhaustion in her face.
“I’m sorry,” she said shaking her head, “I just couldn’t stay for very long . . . I feel drained.” Wiping the stray hairs, “did you see it, even for a second”? I saw almost a pleading in her face, I nodded, “I did”. “Now if I can catch my breath . . . I have proved myself right”? “Jeez you act like I put you through a torture procedure,” I watched her eye widen as she slammed her fist on the table. “You wouldn’t understand the complexity of how the mind makes these things happen, silencing out everything and utilizing the depths of your mind is a task that few can achieve.” Holding up my hands, “alright,” I leaned back in the chair as she relaxed as well wiping the sweat from her face. “You know this whole time we have never had proper introduction obviously I know you through Jess but you don’t know me”. I shrugged, “my cousin just calls you the priestess”. “Priestess,” she snickered, “well for wiccans I guess I am,” “so then you are Wiccan”. Shaking her head, “no I am actually part of something more, but tell me more about you after all that is why you were brought to me”.
Waiting several seconds I ran my hands through my hair, “well basically I have all these ideas and have put them all together but I just can’t connect them.” “After I get this connection, I don’t know if I can write anymore, I need inspiration, a guide . . . I feel like I am scraping the bottom of the bag.” Shaking her head, “no Robby you’re not scrapping the bottom of the bag. You are on the point of discovering yourself . . . I can show you the bottom of the bag.” Puzzled I watched her raise to the table and enter the kitchen. She moved through the cupboards, which were filled with the oddest of items. Different sized jars and containers filled with powders and liquids, feathers, dream catchers, different assortment of pills and gels, animal skulls, and finally she withdrew a black satchel with the finest grey thread tied around the top.
She smiled as she brought it over to the table, “this . . . is actually the bottom of the bag. This, I give to very few souls . . . souls that need to discover their true inner selves.” She slid the satchel over to me and returned to her seat saying “open it”. Her excitement made me suspicious, “what is it”? “A powder that will make you realize who you are and what you are capable of. It is everything you are and everything you could be . . . take it . . . breathe it in and let it take control. There you will discover what lies at the bottom of the bag as you say”. Untying the silk like rope I looked inside to see a silver powder inside, “so what is this called”? Leaning in closer, I heard the words reverberate several times around the room before I finally understood it. “Muerte,” “Muerte,” I repeated “doesn’t that mean death”? “Well yes to the unenlightened . . . Muerte . . .Muerte is so much more than death,” her eyes returned to me, “well one has to experience Muerte to understand it”. “And this is what you think will help me,” she nodded “I guarantee it by the end you will be a different person, and it will solve all your problems . . . I guarantee it.” I took the powder closer, “and what happens,” she shrugged, “everybody’s experience is different just breath in and see”. I opened my mouth to retort but she held up your hands, “I know you have concerns but if you spend you life always weighing the concerns you can never discover where you really can go, take your chance, submit your life to Muerte, nothing ventured . . . nothing gained”.
I gulped as I tried to quell my screaming head, “don’t do it, don’t do it”! But I lowered my head towards the black satchel and took a deep breath of the contents. I felt the powder engulf my face as the particles filled my nose and went deep within my lungs. I immediately fell off my chair as I began to spasm on the ground. I felt my eyes growing darker as the candlelight began to grow dim. “Muerte has changed my life, let it change yours. This is nothing more then the Muerte Bag”. I felt the shaking stop as the world went back as I felt my body jerk every several seconds as if being repeatedly shocked by a mysterious electrical charge. As I felt my body submit I could feel my mind almost whirring up like a projector in a movie theater. My right leg began to twitch as if waiting for the show, waiting for the Muerte bag to take effect.
(To Be Continued)