The Smoking Mirror Read Online Free Page B

that looked out on the grove. Their grandmother Helga was sitting in her wheelchair across from him.
    She was struggling to speak.
    “Johnny, what’s going on? She needs to rest.”
    “She wants to tell me something, dude. I tried to tell her not to worry, to just relax, but she gets all agitated.”
    “ Ca-ca-ca… ” the woman slurred out of one side of her mouth.
    Carol stiffened a bit. “You don’t think she needs, you know, to be changed ?”
    “No, you moron. Just let her speak, okay? Be patient.”
    Helga lifted her arm weakly. “ Ca-ca-ca…cajón .”
    The twins looked at each other.
    “Does she mean her drawer?” Johnny wondered aloud in English.
    Carol shrugged. “Well, she was pointing at the dresser.” Turning to their grandmother, she asked in Spanish, “Do you want something from your drawer, grandma?”
    Almost imperceptibly, Helga Barrón de Quintero nodded her head.
    Johnny leaned back, smirking. “Sounds like a job for you. I am not going through abue ’s undies. No way.”
    Carol sighed. “You started this, Johnny. But fine.” Crossing to the rustic-looking chest of drawers, she began opening each one, looking for something that their grandmother might be wanting. The old woman made dismissive grunting noises at the hairbrush, the barrette, the silver handheld mirror.
    In the bottom drawer, under a pile of scarves and leg warmers, Carol’s hands closed around a thin leather book. She pulled it into the light. Gilt initials spelled out VQB across the cover.
    “Is this what you wanted?” she asked, turning around. Helga’s eye lit up excitedly.
    “VQB,” mused Johnny, thinking of his mother’s two surnames. “Verónica Quintero Barrón? Did it belong to Mom? Is it her bible or something?”
    Carol undid the clasp and opened the volume to the first page. In a neat manuscript hand, someone had written the date—13/X/88—across the top of the page.
    “13th October, 1988…” Carol looked up at her brother. “I think this is Mom’s diary.”
    Their grandmother, with great difficulty, nodded her head twice, slowly.
    “R-r-r-read.”

Chapter Four
     
    As his sister read, Johnny felt prickles of nostalgia along his skin: her voice gradually taking on the rhythms and intonation of their mother’s speech. It was like Verónica Quintero de Garza was in the room at that precise moment, sharing her innermost thoughts.

Today Mom told me the craziest thing: like her, I’m a shapeshifter. A nagual. I didn’t want to believe her, but then she shifted into a jaguar right in front of me! She was orangey-gold, with a white belly and black spots. Only her eyes were the same light brown, though with a little shimmer.
Mom shrugged off her pink dress and prowled around for a while, then went into the bathroom. She came out a few minutes later, in human form, wearing a bathrobe.
“What the heck, Mom? How long have you been like this?”
“Since I was your age, Vero. On my side of the family, there is a nagual born every generation, to the previous shapeshifter, unless she doesn’t have children. In that case one of her sisters will bear the new one.”
“But how did you know it was me and not Sandra, Andrea or Carlos?”
“I didn’t. Not until a month ago, when I saw you wandering the peach grove.”
“What are you talking about? It’s been months since I was out there.”
“No, Sweetie. You have been visiting it every night for the past five weeks. Hunting.”
“You mean…I’ve been shifting into a jaguar like you?”
Mom shook her head and explained. “It takes time for a nagual to fully transform. At first we begin partially shifting, each change introducing more and more animal characteristics. After a few months, the process is complete. Learning to control your ability is another story, however. What emerges when you transform is your tonal, your beast-soul. Everyone has one, but very few can perceive it. Even fewer can allow it to come forward into this physical world. For