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The floor begins to shake as Sonus takes the stage. Dressed in a black leather bodysuit, the audience watches in awe as she winds her waist in time to the music. The audience's ankles vibrate on the grass and the canopy above waves like a flag. She knows they have never seen anyone like her. Seeing a witch in real life is an oddity. Come to think of it, a DJ controlling a crowd with sound waves is not much different than a witch controlling someone with her powers. In adulthood one thinks encounters with the occult are tales of fiction, but tonight, those stories don't seem impossible.Â
My mind drifts to Sonus’s music. I then remember what Mom told me about her encounter with Tionema, the witch of the traveling circus, in Casa de Piedra near the end of the 1960s.Â
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Tionema came with a traveling circus that went through Jalisco and set up on the outskirts of town, next to the sugar cane fields. It was surreal to see how a giant red and white tarp stretched over the green hills.
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When the performances were coming to an end, Mom said she was scared because her stepfather might be awake waiting for her. Mom's friends were going to the circus, so she snuck off to see the show too. Despite being afraid, she was glad she waited until the end and experienced Tionema's abilities. Telepathically, the mysterious woman knew the problems of the volunteers who dared to accompany her and purged painful memories from them.
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Tionema began calling out into the universe as a way to connect with the collective spirit. Her calls became vocalizations that increased in volume as she sang. Mother recalls that her singing thickened into a set of voices that resembled a choir holding a dissonant chord.
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Once the audience's brains were cleansed, Tionema would ask the volunteers direct questions. She brewed personalized teas depending on the person's response. Inside the clear glass teapot, one could see the collection of leaves floating atop the golden water. When Tionema prepared the tea, she did not use sugar to add sweetness. Instead, she cut a giant piece of cane with her white machete and pressed it between two marble stones to extract the juice. Once sweetened, the participants drank their tea and became more susceptible to Tionema’s powers during their interrogation. Then, Tionema stood up and looked directly through the tearful pupils to link her consciousness with theirs. There was no choice but to talk about the extracted memories.
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Tionema gave telepathic strength that destroyed any fear related to repressed traumas. Once the volunteers had rivers flowing from their eyes, Tionema sang again with such strength that Mother mentions her stomach churned as if she were on a roller coaster. One man cried so much that Tionema's assistant had to empty three brass bowls full of his tears.
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That same night, as my mother ran through the cane fields to get home, she found Tionema in the middle of the field looking up at the stars. There was a pile of sugar cane at her feet and her right arm was stretched out while her hand held the shiny machete that dripped sweet juice.
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Mom said Tionema was beautiful, but she was not easy to look at. She wore a necklace with long dangling rows of selenite and opal crystals. She glowed because the moonlight reflected off of the luminous stones that hung from her neck down to her breasts. Her tanned skin, long black hair and high cheekbones gave her a presence that made people look in another direction. The few who dared to connect with her had the privilege of witnessing her deep black irises soften with her watery eyes.
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She sensed Mom was behind her and immediately commanded her to go home.
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"I do not want to go. My stepfather has surely found out I'm not in bed and will punish me for it," my mother said as her brown eyes filled with concern.
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"Do not be afraid of him. He is a small man. You are protected by pure spirits. Nothing of light protects him, only black magic," Tionema replied while raising her left eyebrow and wrinkling her nose in disgust.
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"Take this," she commanded gently as she handed Mom a small sugar cane stick. "Chew on it and feel how the sweetness of the juice turns your fear into courage. When you feel ready, take your grandma with you and stay away from your stepfather. If your mother decides to stay with him, understand that her fears are as real as yours. Accept that she will pay for her mistakes just as you and I will pay for ours."
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"Where do you come from?" my mother asked.
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"I am energy in physical form. We all are. I come from any forest that is willing to protect the gifted like me. Mother Nature helps me bring others the past, present and future. I am who you need me to be," Tionema clarified as her stare penetrated through Mom’s eyes and into her soul.
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"This land is powerful. Tonight, the sugar cane made my tea recipes work better than ever. I have never made such strong connections. The earth here is charged with positive energy. It's alive, take advantage of it," Tionema told my mother.
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. . .
The bass blaring out of the speakers brings me back to reality. Strobe lights flash in rapid, color-changing patterns. The audience jumps in place as Sonus mixes one song after another. No one in the crowd notices the magic we are subjected to.
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Sonus steps up and stops the turntable with her black stiletto heel. The music stops to reveal the sound of the crowd expressing their deepest pain with cries. The collective cries formed a sound similar to how I imagine the chants of Tionema sounded. I see a multitude of faces with their mouths stretched open and their eyes crying thick tears. My stomach feels the sound waves produced by the screams.
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Sonus releases her foot from the plate and the terrifying yet pleasant music continues.
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I let my mind wander with the shapes of the music as my chest is pummeled with sonic lashes. The high pitched noises tickle my ear as the drums make my feet bounce. The music’s sound waves break the physical barrier of sound and visibly travel through the audience.
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Suddenly, I remember a time when I wasn't worried about failure.
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As I’m kneeling in the front row, Sonus notices me in the audience. I realize there is a puddle of my tears all around me that is not absorbed by the grass. The vibrations of the music create cymatic patterns on the surface of the puddle. Sonus looks deeply at me from the stage. I feel a rush of emotions take over my body as my eyes remain fixed on the witch on top of the table. The sound around me fades away and is replaced by a soft hum. I begin to hear Sonus’s sweet voice in my head without seeing her pink pout move. Gently, she reaches out her soft hand and leans toward me until her forehead parts the cascade of her black hair down the middle.
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"Do not fear me or the future," Sonus tells me as her music faintly returns. "Tionema blessed your entire lineage the night your mother took the sugarcane."
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The music comes back in full force. Robotic voices fill the canopy. I turn to find piles of bodies asleep on the grass.
I was the only one kneeling and awake.
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I don't remember going back to my car. Up to this moment, I don't know what the others experienced in their heads.
However, I do know the music Sonus played was charged just like the sugar canes in Casa de Piedra.
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My fear of failure feels conquered. Just like my mother, I feel courage.
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I can now fight for my peace as well.
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written by César Roberto González-Aguilar
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FROM THE AUTHOR
My goal was to create a Chicanx story that fed experienced readers with its complex structure and also attracted new audiences.
I tried to blur the lines between magic and science by combining mythical imagery and the power of sound waves.
In this story of familial fiction,Tionema is the guide we all need to help us grow and Sonus is the reminder to keep going. Memory, magic, performance, transformation and music are all the flavors that combine to create a Chicanx short story that explores our current and past life lessons.
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César Roberto González-Aguilar
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