I look at Domenica, worry filling my head. The supernatural hypothesis is much harder to dismiss now, somehow.

“So you think this could be, hum, a magical cult?” I say, feeling utterly ridiculous for saying it. It’s not my fault the situation’s so messed up! If they bring the unicorns out, I swear I’m out of here.

Domenica gives me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I know it might be weird. Stick with me. The people we met seemed very much human to me. I have no doubt that if there is an actual cult at work at the factory, it’s simply people worshiping something in their own special way. It makes me wonder, though. Exactly how sacred is their mountain?”

I swallow with difficulty. She looks at me and resumes: “It seems possible for rituals and prayers to connect and possibly fuel or awaken some supernatural process. Again, I warn you, this is very explicitly no science. Hypothesis based on reproducible experiences don’t work there. All we have to go forward is intuition and wild speculation.” She thinks for a while. “I might have elements to back this up,” she says. “Care to follow me?”

Domenica carefully puts Nathan down, grabs her mug and bolts towards the living room. She crosses the corridor, opens the door and disappears behind the piles of books and papers walling off her desk space. We follow, Nathan like a duckling and me like I don’t know how to belong.

It seems to be turning out the same way it did yesterday. I know she’s got a pretty good excuse for being distracted today. Still, if she’s gonna be completely absorbed in her work every time we see each other, it’s gonna be a turnoff, my beautiful goddess.

“Should I let you work?” I say. I don’t want to be in the way and I would like even less to stand there and be forgotten.

“No, please don’t!” she says, panicked. Her head raises over the book line. She looks very sorry and still focused on something else. I feel bad about stressing her out.

“It’s OK, I can wait,” I say. I’m a spineless fool.

Domenica looks at me with a furrowed brow. “You’d better,” she says. “I’m not letting you out of here again before the cops arrive.” Good point. The situation momentarily slipped my mind.

“You could read me a story,” says Nathan. He’s quietly sitting on the couch. It’s probably not the first time he’s seen her like this. I could read him a story. I go sit beside him and he hands me a book called “Purple Lion lost a tooth”. It seems to be a story for someone who’s a little younger, but I know how we can read the same old stories all over again even as an adult and love them all the same.

“I found my data!” says Domenica, triumphant. Purple Lion will have to be put on hold. She grabs a chair and sits in front of us, a pile of documents in hand.

“I knew I remembered something,” she says, skimming through the papers. “Here. Among the legends surrounding El Pollo, there is the story of a mythical beast or god, it’s not very clear. The original name of the mountain, Ñox Cayu, seems to refer to an entity that would have lived in the area.”

“An animal god? You think that could be real?” I say, reluctant. It’s one thing to acknowledge that weird stuff is going on and another to start believing in a genesis involving a giant turtle, elephants or who knows what.

Head first in her papers, Domenica reassures me. “Not the beast per se, more the beliefs and phenomena associated with it. The idea of it, if you want. Ideas are more powerful than you know.”

She skips a few pages. “There,” she says. “It seems to be a rather harsh entity, relying on punishment rather than reward… Not many indications about the rituals involved.” She pauses suddenly. “This says he has a way to turn people into his warriors and have them do his bidding.”

The empty eyes of the lot of them. The way they all behaved back at the factory. Workers lining up to sign their contracts, nowhere to be seen afterwards. Regardless of my doubts, a chill runs down my back. These people didn’t seem to have much will or self-control: magical reason or not, that’s a fact.

“There’s not enough in there,” says Domenica, “I could be interpreting things wrong. I need to talk to Petrus and see if he can dig up more, he has access to archives for the whole area that are way out of my reach.” Another page turns. “It gave its name to the mountain by making its home there. That fits with the hypothesis of the temple up there. He expresses his anger through meteorological phenomena such as storms of…” Her voice cuts and she looks at Nathan who’s listening attentively.

“Nat, is it too scary for you? Should we stop? I know you wanna be around me right now, but it doesn’t mean we have to talk about it right away. I still have lots of research to do before it even makes sense.”

He shrugs. “You know, compared to the green man, your story is not so scary,” he says. “If it’s an animal, maybe it’s just bored or annoyed for some reason?”

I have a feeling that the things Domenica’s talking about are not at all hypothetical for him. He acts like there are deities and ghosts walking around all the time. With a mom like that, I guess he had different kinds of Santa to set his imagination loose.

In the meanwhile, Domenica has stopped skimming through the documents. She’s frozen in place. “Oh my,” she says.

I grab Nathan’s had. I do that as much to comfort myself than I do it for him. “Is it a good ‘Oh my’ or a bad one?” I say, giving a false smile.

“The locals thought that Ñox Cayu — the beast — could influence the weather, the environment… There are some bullshit stories about earthquakes and the likes, but it very specifically states hail storms as a way through which it displays its wrath. Hail storms!”

“Hail storms.” Suddenly, in the aftermath of yet another shower, the ground not yet dry, the idea of something lurking feels real. It’s not funny nor ridiculous anymore. I wanna go home.

Then I remember home, or rather the outside world might not be the most welcoming place right now. Mad cultists possibly waiting out there. What are the cops doing?

Cultists led by my fellow worker at the factory. A magical mountain sending hail storms and earthquakes over. Earthquakes!

“Domenica,” I say, “I have one more element supporting the idea that the factory is at the core of this situation. Since the day I arrived there, I’ve felt the earth tremble, like if there was some mild volcanic activity.”

Domenica is stunned. “Earthquakes… That can’t be a coincidence anymore. I have to go there and get some readings.”

“Great idea,” I say, “after they just tried to, hum, mess with you.” I managed to avoid saying ‘murdered’ in front of Nathan, I’m proud. “I’m sure they’d welcome you with open arms.”

“Ah-ha,” she says, jaded. “What other option do I have? They want to scare me because they think I could unravel the mysteries of El Pollo. They know I can. I’ll just have to prove them right!”

“Or,” I say, “you let me snoop around as I work there like usual. I could get a lot more info without getting eaten.” Crap. That end wasn’t very kid-friendly. I hope he’ll take the ‘eating people’ thing as a metaphor. It was one. I hope.

Domenica seems unconvinced. “I don’t know, didn’t they run after you, too?”

“Only because I was there,” I say. “I don’t even think they recognize me, a factory worker among many others. I just need to get Dave to confess his… mystical crimes over lunch or something.”

“No, this is dangerous. It could turn out very badly. They… did not seem very sane,” she says. Now that’s an understatement.

“It would be dangerous for any of us, and I’m the only one with an excuse for being there,” I say. “Listen, I’m not going because I wanna solve some mysterious shenanigans, all right? They attacked you, they attacked Nathan, me, the weather is the worst because of them and they’re probably gonna ruin the Yolkside Lunch if we let them!”

Domenica smiles at the idea. “Do you actually go to that thing? It looked like an old people’s tradition to me.”

“Hum,” I say, “it can be pretty fun depending on who you go with. A friend of mine is part of the committee this year, so I guess I’m a bit excited about it?”

“Fair enough,” she says.

This is too good of an opportunity to pass. “If we haven’t been kidnapped by factory workers when this week-end comes, do you want to go with me?”

She smiles. I can almost hear her purr. “I’d love to,” she says. And here I was worrying about our lives. I guess there is always time to take a break and relax. Nathan reminds us of that by tugging on Domenica’s sleeve, asking for attention.

“This talk is getting really boring now, and it’s late,” he says. “Can we go to sleep?”

Domenica shakes off our moment. “Sure, Nat,” she says. She looks at me in the eyes, a smile still lingering on her face. “Are you staying?”

Well, the cops are not here yet, are they?