A terrifying screeching and howling crawls out of every open window and door from the house in front of me. Hysterical choking and sobbing shakes the shades and doors. A panic and fear like I’ve never known grabs me by the shoulders and digs it’s nails into my shoulders. Yeah, I think I made a mistake coming here. Araceli’s leaning against a palm tree next to me, bike parked against a fence.
“It’s too late to back out, isn’t it?” I sigh, out loud.
“It’s worth it,” Araceli says nonchalantly.
“Have you checked what’s going on in there, though?”
“Nope. I was asked to observe and only step in in case of an emergency.”
“And it doesn’t sound like an emergency to you?”
“The situation is as the client described it would be. The client is inside, by the way. You shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
“Right.” Time to put on my customer service voice, I guess.
I walk up to the open door and raise my voice enough to hopefully be heard over the agonies. “Hello! My name is Ramicia and I’m here on behalf of Doña Pantalla. How can I help?”
A person with tufted curly hair and shades hops down the stairs, their unbuttoned shirt flowing. They nod to me, pucker their lips, and flick their head towards the front door. I bow out of the way and follow them down the street a bit as they casually sway along. They hold out their hand and smile warmly. I respond in kind, if a bit stiff since I don’t really know what to expect. “Ah, it’s great to see Doña getting some help. I’m Bellón, and you are...?”
“Ramicia, mucho gusto. How can I help you today?” I respond, trying to keep my composure while still hearing the distressing noises in the distance.
“Did Doña tell you what’s up?” I’m trying to reconcile their lazy Sunday morning demeanor with the horrors I hear from the house and man I just can’t. “I’m going to guess she didn’t, haha. Classic Doña.” Their gaze shifts to the house. “So I have this really nice sound system, right? Just amazing speakers and everything. Set it up so that I’d play a song and it would follow me through the house so I don’t have to have headphones on. I use it for a few months and it works great. Got the soundtrack of my life vibing with me anywhere I go, I feel the beat of the music vibrate the sweat on my skin, it’s perfect. I get home from work one day to uh. This.” Bellón vaguely gestures at the house. “I call the cops because there shouldn’t be anyone inside, I live alone. Whatever’s going on, I want it to be someone else’s problem.” They sigh and ruffle their hair back. “They eventually arrive and search the place reluctantly and come up empty. We have a weird conversation about the sound system, since the screaming is coming from that.” I furrow my brow in confusion and open my mouth to speak, but I’m cut off. “Don’t ask me about the details, it’s not important. Point is, doesn’t matter what we do, even with the power supply, it just stays like this —” Bellón exasperatedly gestures at the house, “— All the time. As much as I’d like to be around while you resolve this, this has really given me a headache and I’m just gonna shave the edges of this ringing in my ears with a beer. I know nothing funny’s gonna happen anyway while you got that Torres chick watching you.”
I look at them quizzically, “Torres chick?” I don’t understand.
They look back, confused as well. “You don’t know? Damn girl well uh, good luck with that.” And with that, they turn and leave.
Right. Okay. Got enough red flags today to be a flag wholesaler, but without any buyers I’m just gonna have to torch the lot of them and move on. To the agony house, then.