"And then I went out, and I walked slowly past the chapel with its open doors. Through the gentle downpour, I heard her praying, her low rapid whispers, and then through the open entrance, I saw her kneeling before the altar, the reddened fire of a candle flickering beyond her, as she held her arms outstretched in the form of a cross.
"I wanted to go. It seemed in the depths of my bruised soul I wanted nothing more. But something again held me. I had smelled the sharp unmistakable scent of fresh blood.
"It came from the chapel, and it was not the blood pumping within her, it was the blood that was flowing free from a new wound.
"I drew closer, careful not to make the slightest noise, until I stood in the chapel door. The smell grew stronger. And then I saw the blood dripping from her outstretched hands. I saw it on the floor, flowing in rivulets from her feet.
"'Deliver me from Evil, O Lord, take me to you, Sacred Heart of Jesus, gather me into your arms...'
"She did not see or hear me as I drew closer. A soft glow suffused her face, made of the light of the flickering candle, and of the radiance from inside her, the great consuming rapture which held her now, and removed her from all around her, including the dark figure at her side.
"I looked at the altar. I saw the giant crucifix high above it, and below, the tiny gleaming tabernacle, and the burning candel deep in its red glass which meant the Blessed Sacrament was here. A gust of breeze moved through the open chapel doors. It caught he bell above and a faint tinny peal broke from it, barely audible above the sound of the breeze itself.
"I looked down at her again, at her upturned face with its blind eyes at half mast, and her mouth so slack though the words still came from it.
"'Christ, my beloved Christ, gather me into your arms.'
"And through the haze of my tears, I watched the red blood welling and flowing red and thick and copious from her open palms.
"There were hushed voices in the compound. Doors opened and closed. I heard the sound of people running on the packed earth. When I turned I saw that dark shapes had gathered at the entrance--a cluster of anxious female figures. I heard a whispered word in French which meant 'stranger.' And then the muffled cry:
"'Devil!'"
Copyright © 1992 by Anne O'Brien Rice.
