The deal with The Devil was that once every ten years on the festival of the dead, he had to betray someone who truly loved him and turn them over to the keeper of the dead. Could he do it this year?
Betraying someone who loved you is easy – as long as your love for them is a sham. But could he betray someone whom he truly loved? Could he send Alicia into the arms of the keeper of the dead?
The answer would come at midnight on the night of the dead. The exact day for that had varied through the centuries, but in today’s world…, in this nation…, in this culture…, that would be at midnight on Halloween.
Alicia was rather quiet all day on Halloween. This year, the party would be at their estate. Perhaps she was preoccupied with the details of final planning for the festivities. They had decided on a Greek theme for the decorations. Alicia designed and had supervised the construction of a relatively accurate replica of the temple of Hestia, the Greek goddess of hearth and home.
The Romans borrowed many of the cultic practices of the Greeks, including the sacred flame of Hestia, which on the night of the dead was brought to full fire so that people could take glowing embers home to relight their hearths with “purified fire” – of course for a fee. There always had to be an offering of silver to the goddess in return for the sacred fire. Alicia’s pseudo-temple was the perfect setting for a large bonfire for the party.
“Have all cultures always combined fire… and purity… and death?” thought Estevan when he saw the temple sitting in the garden. It wasn’t exactly as he remembered it when he had walked between its pillars in Athens, but the differences were minor. Alicia’s design looked almost more primitive… more ancient that the temple he remembered. “This will be perfect.” he told Alicia. He then added silently to himself, “Now I don’t have to come up with some way to create a bonfire.”
The secret that Estevan had discovered so many Kalendra ago was that for everything sacred there was also the un-sacred. Perhaps both were sacred, but not on the same end of reality. There was “good” sacred and “bad” sacred. There was the “holy” fire and the “un-holy” fire. The gods came forth from the holy fire. The keeper of the dead came forth from the un-holy fire.
It was an accident when it happened…. well, not exactly an accident. Estevan was supposed to kindle the sacred fire for his household, but being a typically rebellious teenaged boy of any culture or century, he intentionally reversed the wording of the ritual. He was alone by the family sacred hearth when he began the task of building a new fire so he was free to mutilate the ritual words. Had his father or mother been there, such disrespect would have brought a severe beating, but he was alone, and so he showed his contempt for what he considered the useless and hollow words of a totally stupid ritual. He reversed all of the words as he labored to create the proper spark to ignite the dried grass and kindling that would begin the flame for the sacred fire.
But it wasn’t a stupid ritual…, and they were not useless, hollow words. With his reversed ritual, he created an un-sacred fire and when the family gathered, the keeper of the dead came forth from the fire and consumed his father and his mother and all who were gathered around the fire… except Estevan. Then the keeper of the dead offered him eternal life. He could live forever, but that eternal life required a regular payment of life.
What would Estevan say when The Devil came forth from the fire this year. Would he say the proper words, “I give you life for life, love for love, that which is not mine for that which is not yours.” Or would he say simply, “I withhold life for life and give you my life as your own.”
There had never been any question about the choice of words in all the hundreds of years of his existence. Why now? Why this time? Why with Alicia?
The guests began arriving shortly after sundown. It was a dark night, and the extensive garden was dimly lit with the flickering flame of torches which surrounded the area and lined each of the paths. The torches had been intentionally placed so that there were large, grassy areas of total darkness where people could find privacy in the midst of the gathering. If the party had been inside, several of the bedrooms would have been available, but the dark areas would be almost as private.
The invitations had specifically said “Greco-Roman Theme,” but had also indicated that “traditional Halloween costumes are also acceptable.” So, as the evening began, there were toga and tunic clad men and women standing around drinking with witches, goblins, Star Wars characters, and of course, a plethora of naughty nurses, teachers, cops, robbers, and whatever.
By nine o’clock several of the togas and tunics had already been discarded and naked slaves walked among the revelers. Estevan smiled as he watched Dr. Harrison and a naked Nurse Buchanan slip into the darkness. It reminded him of actual naked slaves being led into the darkness at a party in a setting very similar to this a long, long time ago.
He wasn’t drinking tonight. He wasn’t sure if it was because he knew he couldn’t get himself drunk enough to do what he had to do, or because he was afraid that if he was drunk enough he would be able to say the words and give Alicia over to the keeper of the dead. Alicia also was not drinking tonight, probably because, as hostess, she needed to keep her mind clear to supervise the party.
Midnight was fast approaching. Estevan and Alicia were the only two people there who were not seriously drunk and disheveled. They were also among the few who were still totally clothed. Shortly before midnight, Estevan began maneuvering Alicia to the “dark side” of the fire. At his suggestion, there were no torches on this side of the fire so that just a few feet from the flames, you were in relative darkness. It was the perfect setting to meet the keeper of the dead for the once-a-decade betrayal ritual.
And then it was time. Estevan and Alicia were standing in the perfect place. Others could not see them over the flames of fire, and from the sides they were just at the edge of being able to be seen in the fire’s glow. At exactly midnight, Estevan faced the fire and watched as a well- dressed man stepped out of the flames and into the soft light of the fire lit the area. He had expected Alicia to be startled, but she stood serenely next to him.
The Devil was dressed like a riverboat gambler from the American west. He even had on one of those black, flat-topped western hats preferred by such ne’er-do-wells. He was continually flipping and catching what appeared to be an old-fashioned silver dollar. “I have come for my Kalendra tribute,” he said with a smooth, deep voice.
Estevan stepped slightly forward. As he spoke the silver dollar spun past The Devil’s hand and slowly – very, very slowly – dropped toward the ground.
Estevan stepped closer to him and said clearly, “I withhold life for life and give you my life as your own.” He was actually surprised to hear himself say those words. He was even more surprised to hear Alicia speak the very same words as she stood alongside him.