No, I am not. There is nothing more important for us
living beings than to enter into that world. I will tell you that
for me that is true. To get to that world I live the way the
Nagual taught me. Without the hope of that world I am
nothing, nothing. I was a fat old cow. Now that hope gives
me a guide, a direction, and even if I can’t take your power, I
still have my purpose.
She rested her head on the table, using her arms as a pillow.
The force of her statements had numbed me. I had not under-
stood what exactly she had meant, but I could almost empa-
thize with her plea, although it was the strangest thing I had
yet heard from her that night. Her purpose was a warrior’s
purpose, in don Juan’s style and terminology. I never knew,
however, that one had to destroy people in order to fulfill it.
She lifted up her head and looked at me with half-closed
eyelids.
At the beginning everything worked fine for me today,
she said. I was a bit scared when you drove up. I had waited
years for that moment. The Nagual told me that you like
women. He said you are an easy prey for them, so I played
you for a quick finish. I figured that you would go for it. The
Nagual had taught me how I should grab you at the moment
when you are the weakest. I was leading you to that moment
with my body. But you became suspicious. I was too clumsy.
I had taken you to my room, as the Nagual told me to do, so
the lines of my floor would entrap you and make you helpless.
But you fooled my floor by liking it and by watching its lines
intently. It had no power as long as your eyes were on its lines.
Your body knew what to do. Then you scared my floor, yell-
ing the way you did. Sudden noises like that are deadly, espe-
cially the voice of a sorcerer. The power of my floor died out
like a flame. I knew it, but you didn’t.
You were about to leave then so I had to stop you. The
Nagual had shown me how to use my hand to grab you. I tried
to do that, but my power was low. My floor was scared. Your
eyes had numbed its lines. No one else has ever laid eyes on
them. So I failed in my attempt to grab your neck. You got
out of my grip before I had time to squeeze you. I knew then
that you were slipping away and I tried one final attack. I used
the key the Nagual said would affect you the most, fright. I
frightened you with my shrieks and that gave me enough
power to subdue you. I thought I had you, but my stupid dog
got excited. He’s stupid and knocked me off of you when I
had you almost under my spell. As I see it now, perhaps my
dog was not so stupid after all. Maybe he noticed your double
and charged against it but knocked me over instead.
You said he wasn’t your dog.
I lied. He was my trump card. The Nagual taught me that
I should always have a trump card, an unsuspected trick.
Somehow, I knew that I might need my dog. When I took
you to see my friend, it was really him; the coyote is my girls’
friend. I wanted my dog to sniff you. When you ran into the
house I had to be rough with him. I pushed him inside your
car, making him yell with pain. He’s too big and could hardly
fit over the seat. I told him right then to maul you to shreds. I
knew that if you had been badly bitten by my dog you would
have been helpless and I could have finished you off without
any trouble. You escaped again, but you couldn’t leave the
house. I knew then that I had to be patient and wait for
the darkness. Then the wind changed direction and I was sure
of my success.
The Nagual had told me that he knew without a doubt that
you would like me as a woman. It was a matter of waiting for
the right moment. The Nagual said that you would kill your-
self once you realized I had stolen your power. But in case I
failed to steal it, or in case you didn’t kill yourself, or in case
I didn’t want to keep you alive as my prisoner, I should then
use my headband to choke you to death. He even showed me
the place where I had to throw your carcass: a bottomless pit,
a crack in the mountains, not too far from here, where goats
always disappear. The Nagual never mentioned your awesome
side, though. I’ve told you that one of us was supposed to die
tonight. I didn’t know it was going to be me. The Nagual gave
me the feeling that I would win. How cruel of him not to
tell me everything about you.
Think of me, dona Soledad. I knew even less than you
did.
It’s not the same. The Nagual prepared me for years for
this. I knew every detail. You were in my bag. The Nagual
even showed me the leaves I should always keep fresh and
handy to make you numb. I put them in the tub as if they
were for fragrance. You didn’t notice that I used another
kind of leaf for my tub. You fell for everything I had pre-
pared for you. And yet your awesome side won in the end.
What do you mean my awesome side?
The one that hit me and will kill me tonight. Your hor-
rendous double that came out to finish me. I will never forget
it and if I live, which I doubt, I will never be the same.
Did it look like me?
It was you, of course, but not as you look now. I can’t
really say what it looked like. When I want to think about it
I get dizzy.
I told her about my fleeting perception that she had left her
body with the impact of my blow. I intended to prod her with
the account. It seemed to me that the reason behind the whole
event had been to force us to draw from sources that are ordi-
narily barred to us. I had positively given her a dreadful blow;
I had caused profound damage to her body, and yet I could
not have done it myself. I did feel I had hit her with my left
fist, the enormous red lump on her forehead attested to that,
yet I had no swelling in my knuckles or the slightest pain or
discomfort in them. A blow of that magnitude could even
have broken my hand.
Upon hearing my description of how I had seen her hud-
dling against the wall, she became thoroughly desperate. I
asked her if she had had any inkling of what I had seen, such
as a sensation of leaving her body, or a fleeting perception of
the room.
I know now that I am doomed, she said. Very few sur-
vive a touch of the double. If my soul has left already I won’t
survive. I’ll get weaker and weaker until I die.
Her eyes had a wild glare. She raised herself and seemed
to be on the verge of striking me, but she slumped back.
You’ve taken my soul, she said. You must have it in
your pouch now. Why did you have to tell me, though?
I swore to her that I had had no intentions of hurting her,
that I had acted in whatever form only in self-defense and
therefore I bore no malice toward her.
If you don’t have my soul in your pouch, it’s even worse,
she said. It must be roaming aimlessly around. I will never
get it back, then.
Dona Soledad seemed to be void of energy. Her voice be-
came weaker. I wanted her to go and lie down. She refused
to leave the table.
The Nagual said that if I failed completely I should then
give you his message, she said. He told me to tell you that
he had replaced your body a long time ago. You are himself
now.
What did he mean by that?
He’s a sorcerer. He entered into your old body and re-
placed its luminosity. Now you shine like the Nagual himself.
You’re not your father’s son anymore. You are the Nagual
himself.
Dona Soledad stood up. She was groggy. She appeared to
want to say something else but had trouble vocalizing. She
walked to her room. I helped her to the door; she did not want
me to enter. She dropped the blanket that covered her and lay