Thrown into Nature

15. Against Fevers from Colds and for Creative Energy

When we went to see Father Luis del Alcazar the Jesuit, an astounding vision unfolded before us. His fever had decidedly taken a turn for the worse, but as the reader will see, for very puzzling reasons. We found him trembling all over — like an autumn leaf, as they say — with chattering teeth, yet dressed only in an undershirt, sitting in his bed, with sheets of paper spread across his lap and on the blankets, with a quill in hand, an open Bible and an inkpot on the nightstand next to him, with the tobacco leaf from yesterday still tied to his head — and spattered with ink from head to toe. Everything on him and around him was spattered with ink — his shirt, the blankets, his beard, his neck, the papers, even the pages of the Bible. His hand was shaking furiously, which perhaps explained the large, crooked letters on the pages.

In the first instant, Dr. Monardes and I froze in our tracks, speechless. The priest nodded at us and greeted us, trembling intensely all the while.

“What’s happened to you, padre?” Dr. Monardes found his tongue. “Your fever seems to be getting worse.”

This was obviously true. But the padre’s answer was rather unexpected: “This fever is a gift from God, señores,” he said, and I would note that his voice sounded enthusiastic. “Because thanks to it, I received extraordinary visions last night.”

“Yes, yes,” Dr. Monardes replied and nodded at me to begin preparing the leaves.

“No, really,” the priest went on. “I saw scenes from the Apocalypse, as clearly as I’m seeing you right now.”

“We need to treat you, padre,” the doctor said.

“Which scenes exactly, padre?” I asked.

“I saw the twenty-four thrones,” Luis del Alcazar replied, “with the elders upon them.”

“Who?” the doctor raised his head from the brazier which was heating the leaves. It seems that he hadn’t quite heard.

“The elders,” the priest repeated. “From the first to the last. Twenty-four elders.”

“How strange,” I said.

“Yes. And light and voices and peals of thunder were coming from the stones.”

The doctor placed his hand anxiously on the priest’s forehead and nodded. “It’s hot. This is a stubborn fever, padre.”

“I also saw the seven burning lamps of fire,” the priest continued, not paying him any attention. He was speaking to me, as he clearly sensed that I was more interested. “And also the book sealed with seven seals.”

“What book was it?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” the priest replied. “Nothing was written on the outside. But I saw the seals. Strange, red seals.”

“Made of wax?” I asked.

“So it seemed to me,” Father del Alcazar nodded. “I also saw the seals breaking open. When the first broke open, a rider on a white horse appeared, with a bow in his hand.”

“Interesting vision, padre,” Dr. Monardes said. “Now sit still and we’ll change the leaf on your forehead.”

I unwound the white strip of cloth that was tied under the priest’s chin keeping yesterday’s leaf on his head, and the doctor, holding a new, warmed tobacco leaf in his hand, carefully placed it on his bald pate, after which I retied the cloth.

“Now lay down, father, so we can put leaves on your chest.”

“Later I also saw Death, the rider on a pale horse,” the priest said, as he lay on his back. “The horse was dappled, gray with white spots. That makes it a pale horse.”

“What did Death look like, señor?” I asked as I placed the leaves on his chest.

“Like an ordinary horseman. He didn’t look any different from the first.”

“But in human form?” I asked.

“In human form, yes,” the priest replied. “He appeared after the opening of the fourth seal.”

“But father, all of that is already written in the Apocalypse,” Dr. Monardes broke in, and I, at least, clearly managed to catch the skeptical ring to his voice.

“That’s true,” the priest replied, “but it’s another thing entirely to see it with your own eyes. With your inner vision,” he corrected himself.

“And what else did you see, padre?” I asked with curiosity. “I haven’t read the Apocalypse. Or rather, I have read it, but let’s not go into that now.”

“After the opening of the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those slain for their faith in God, crying out for vengeance.”

“For vengeance?” the doctor asked. The padre nodded vigorously. He was still trembling all over, by the way. “How typical!” Dr. Monardes noted.

“That’s all I saw,” the priest turned to me. “But the most important thing is that some secrets of the Apocalypse seem to have been revealed to me. In fact, I have no doubts about it whatsoever. I am completely convinced that the first through the eleventh chapters speak of the rejection of Judaism, the punishment of the Jews, and the destruction of Jerusalem. That’s just what I’m trying to write out now. With God’s help, the hidden sense of the Apocalypse will become clear to me.”

“Padre,” said Dr. Monardes. “I’ll come again tomorrow. But if your fever worsens during the night, send someone to call for me. Don’t hesitate and don’t wait!”

The priest agreed, and the doctor and I left shortly thereafter. The doctor looked concerned.

“That fever is not progressing well,” he said. “It should have shown signs of improvement by now, but it hasn’t.”

His apprehensions vanished the following day, however. It was, incidentally, the same day that Cervantes was released. In the afternoon after we parted with him, we again went to see Father Luis del Alcazar.

“I received new visions!” he said when we entered the room. “And I think that everything is now clear to me.”

The scene which unfolded before us was not much different from the previous day’s, with the exception that his fever had subsided, while the ink stains and papers had increased.

“What is it like to be such a person?” I thought to myself. I would say that for a moment a certain fear gripped me.

The doctor placed his hand on the father’s forehead, and this time he was satisfied.

“His body temperature seems to be normalizing,” he noted. “But obviously you are still trembling, father.”

“Yes,” replied the priest. “But this illness has repaid me richly. Such visions! The four angels from the four corners of the earth”—he turned to me—“I also saw the fifth, rising from the east, holding the seal of the living God.”

“What did the seal look like?” I inquired.

“A regular red seal,” the priest replied. “But a lot bigger, of course.”

“How big? Like this?” I asked, making a circle with my hands about the size of a fairly large loaf of bread. That’s what I had in mind, in any case.

“Bigger, I think,” the priest replied.

“Like this?” I spread my hands wider.

“Yes. Something like that,” the priest replied hesitantly.

“What exactly is making you tremble, señor? The fever or the visions?” asked Dr. Monardes.

“Surely the fever, although it’s hard for me to say,” replied the priest. “They both came on at the same time.”

“You mustn’t strengthen the illness, padre!” Dr. Monardes said sternly. “By trying to hold on to the visions, perhaps you are also trying to hold on to the fever as well.”

“No, no, not at all,” the priest shook his head. “I assure you.”

“Did you see anything else, father?” I asked.

“Oh, amazing things! The star called Wormwood, how it fell to the earth. It says in the Apocalypse that it turned the waters bitter and many people perished from that. I also saw a mighty angel robed in a cloud, with a rainbow above his head, his face shining like the sun. This angel had one foot on land, the other in the sea, and was holding an open book. No, I didn’t see what it was”—he quickly clarified to me—“but the visions themselves are not the most important thing, señores. I think I have understood the meaning of the prophecy. Everything must be understood in praeteritus.”

“In praeteritus?” I repeated.

“In the past,” the doctor explained, while changing the leaves.

“Yes, precisely,” the priest nodded. “It has already taken place. The prophecy is true and has already come about. The Antichrist has passed over the earth. Chapters 12 through 19 describe the Roman Empire’s rejection of paganism and acceptance of Christianity. Chapter 20 is about the persecutions of Christians by the Antichrist, who is Emperor Nero. Write out ‘Nero Caesar’ in Hebrew letters, add them up and you get 666.”

“Really?” I said.

“It’s true.” Dr. Monardes nodded after a brief pause. Yes, he surely knew. His mother was a Jewess, after all.

“My son,” the priest turned to me, “Nero ruled from the year 54 to the year 68. Two times seven. This also follows from the Apocalypse. And the final two chapters are about the triumph of the Catholic Church, the New Jerusalem.”

“You need to write this down, padre,” I said.

“That’s precisely what I’m doing,” he replied. “I will entitle my treatise Investigation of the Hidden Sense of the Apocalypse.”

“I really like your relative Baltasar,” I said, meaning it as a little joke. “Especially that poem ‘Tres Cosas’:

Three things have caught my heart:

The pretty Inés, cured ham

and aubergines with cheese.”

The doctor laughed, but the priest’s face assumed a serious and saddened expression.

“Baltasar is a wretch,” he said.

“Why call him a wretch, señor?” I objected. “He’s a soldier, a sailor. He’s travelled the world. And he’s a fine poet. He has talent.”

The priest shook his head, but said nothing.

The doctor was seized by a long and violent coughing fit.

“What’s wrong, señor?” the priest asked, slightly alarmed. “You haven’t caught my cold, have you?”

“No,” the doctor replied after clearing his throat. “I think it’s from the tobacco. From time to time it irritates the lungs, after long use. But this is nothing when compared with its benefits, of course. And this only applies to cases in which the smoke has been inhaled. It does not apply to cases of external application, such as yours. You needn’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of anything, señor,” Father Alcazar replied. “I have complete faith in you.”

“Thank you,” replied the doctor. “As you should. I’ll come back tomorrow to see how the illness is progressing.”

After that we said goodbye to the priest and left.

“So that’s how it goes, eh?” the doctor said when we got out onto Sierpes. “Three things have caught my heart: the pretty Inés. .”

“Cured ham and aubergines with cheese,” I finished, and we both laughed.

“How strange that I do not know him,” said the doctor. “Where is he living now?”

“He’s here,” I replied. “He came back and is living in La Macarena.”

“Well, what do you know,” said the doctor.

The following day, the priest was much better, and after a week his fever had passed completely.