The past - part 3

The walk to the cabin, though less tortuous than the previous night, was longer. Joseph noticed some things hanging from trees, and when he looked closer, for it was day and he could see, he realized that they were small skulls. He was startled, because that was very macabre! There were many, like bunches of grapes. He kept walking, because the worst that could happen to him was to be stuck out in the open, in the blizzard.

He saw some totem poles half buried in the snow around the house. When he finally looked at the building, he realized that it looked a lot like last night's cabin. He swallowed, slowly approaching the door. He raised his hand to knock, but it froze for a few seconds. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and before he knocked, he looked down and sees the same potted plant.

"It's not possible..." His lips were trembling, not from the cold, but from fear. He gatherd courage and knocked on the door. Nothing. Again. Nothing. He bent down and took the plant out of the pot. He lookd inside the container and there was the small wooden key with the golden tip, just like the other one. He wanted to cry, but he controlled himself. He picked up the key and turned it in the lock. With a few more breaths, he pushed open the door. He entered, and although it looked different at first sight, it was the same fucking cabin.

He took a few steps back, but the door behind him slammed shut, and he was sure he'd heard the 'click' as it locked itself. He turned around and tried to open it, but he couldn't. He stayed for some time propped up against the door, sitting on the floor, unable to believe that madness. Then, a noise in the 'room' caught his attention. He sat up straighter, ears attentive, and again the noise. Something scratching.

He looked around and saw that on the table, several herbs were hanging, next to what should have been the stove. There was an old teapot near the sink, as well as a cup on the table. He looks towards the room, but everything was absolutely silent. He swallowed the saliva, which scratched down his dry throat. He needed to drink something. Standing up, he approached the table and looked into the cup. It was empty and incredibly clean. He looked at the table and it was also clean. The floor, the walls. The layer of dust from before was gone, which made a certain hope spring up in his chest: maybe it was not the same hut, they just look alike! However, when he turned around and faced the space destined for the living room, he saw the same chair with the old cloths, although not so dirty, and the 'bed' in the corner.

He picked up the teapot and felt that it was not empty. He opened the little lid and looked inside. It looked like water. He smelled it and felt nothing, so it must be water, for sure. He went to the stove and put the pot on. Then he took a look at the herbs. He might not be a real Indian, but he understood a thing or two about it and knew that some of those were for tea. He chose the one that soothed. He definitely needed to calm down.

He went to the fireplace and gathered some wood from the stockpile, taking it to the kitchen and lighting the stove. His lighter failed a few times, but in the end, it didn't let him down. He waited for the water to boil and dumped the leaves in it. A few minutes later, the smell of fresh tea filled the entire cabin. Looking in the closet, there was nothing, not even the cans from before. 'Gonna have to be sugar free, innit great?' He shrugged and started sipping.

The noise from before come back louder this time, and Joseph almost dropped the cup from his hands in his fright. He set the container down on the table and headed toward the living room. There was nothing there to block his view, for there are no walls. He walked, putting one foot in front of the other, calmly. The noise came from inside the closet. Taking courage, he opened the furniture and the box was still there, on the last shelf. Suddenly, it moved on its own. Joseph was wondering whether or not to open it, then a thought crossed his mind: he has died. It could only be that. He died and that was the afterlife there, to hunt him. Or he was asleep and now lost in a very crazy dream. Maybe he fell asleep at the wheel and crashed the car, knocking him out. In either case, the conclusion was the same: he couldn't die or get hurt there, because it wasn't real.

He bent down confidently, picked up the box and opened it. Then darkness filled the entire place, like smoke engulfing everything around him, until there was no light left. 'Shit!' was Joseph's thought at that moment, before he couldn't think of anything, anymore.

He opened his eyes and everything was still dark. He took a step and didn't fall. Nothing happened, actually. He feared dropping something, or falling, but with each step, he realized that nothing bad was happening. After a few minutes, the floor beneath his feet began to feel different, fluffier, softer, like uncut grass. Then, suddenly, the floor started to slope downwards. He felt when everything shook and he fell, feeling now that, in fact, it was grass beneath him.

He found himself in a glade. Then he got up and kept walking. The box was still in his hand, which he only realized at that moment. He thought it best to keep the object close by, after all, if it got him there, it could probably get him out of there, too.

Walking a few feet, he heard giggling. Three women were on their backs, talking, until a noise behind Joseph made him turn around. A handsome man approached. The women turn around and the similarity between them is quite obvious. Joseph took a good look and noticed that one of them had a kind of leather braid, in her hair, which was also braided. It's the keyring, only it wasn't a keyring yet.

Then everything changed to one of the older girls was running away with the man, putting her hand on her belly. Joseph knew that they were indigenous and that, probably, that one got pregnant and had to flee. Getting involved with a white man was like suicide in some tribes, pregnant or not.

The scene changed again and the woman, once pregnant, had a child on her lap, playing with him on the grass, when a shadow approached. It was her sister, the eldest. There was no sound there, but Joseph knew they were arguing, for the facial expression made it clear. Then, the man from before, the father of the child, arrived and placed himself beside the woman and the child. The sister, angrily, made some movements with her hand, in addition to throw kind of dust on the three of them. The child started crying and the woman left.

Then, the man was in bed, sick. The child, too, but the Indian woman took that talisman out of her hair and placed it near the child. She went to the dresser and removed the ring from a key ring, placing it on the object she removed from her hair, turning it into a key ring. She spoke a few words to the boy, and got on her knees, apparently praying. Meanwhile, her husband stopped moving, his eyes on the ceiling, frozen. He was dead.

In another scene, the other sister, the youngest, was married to a foreigner, pregnant. The spiteful sister went after her and, like the other one, threw the dust at them, only this time, they were all asleep. She sneaked out of the house with a macabre smile on her face. Joseph though he'd seen that woman somewhere, but he couldn't remember from where.

So his father was standing there, looking at a grave, with his hands in his pockets. He removed one of his hands, along with a bunch of keys, and Joseph recognizes the key ring. "Oh, fuck!!"