The Divine Delusion
In my previous life, my nephew Leo was diagnosed with cataracts.
My sister Sylvia, swayed by a local spiritual healer, believed he was a blessed soul destined to gain divine sight. I warned her not to fall for such superstitions, took them to the county hospital, and made sure Leo received proper medical treatment. His vision was completely restored.
But Sylvia convinced herself that I was jealous of his "destiny," accusing me of banishing his supernatural vision. Her resentment festered into deep hatred. Later, when I was hospitalized after a severe car accident, she was the one who pulled my oxygen tube.
I opened my eyes and found myself back on the day Sylvia dragged Leo into Mama Cleo's dilapidated cabin.
Gripping Leo's hand tightly, Sylvia pleaded, "Mama Cleo, look at my boy's eyes. There's a white patch in them. What's wrong?"
Mama Cleo, the town's aging spiritual healer whose face was creased like old leather, ambled over. Her cloudy eyes studied Leo's face closely.
"This boy is a blessed soul," she declared with absolute certainty. "That white in his eyes? It's a sign he's about to awaken his divine sight."
Sylvia's eyes widened in awe. She grabbed Cleo by the shoulders, shaking her slightly. "Really? You mean my Leo was holy in a past life?"
In my last life, this was the exact moment I had grabbed Sylvia's arm, telling her it was all nonsense and that there was no such thing as divine souls. I had desperately urged her not to let herself be conned. Sylvia had been annoyed but stayed quiet. Days later, I took Leo to the county hospital myself. The doctor diagnosed him with cataracts, assuring us it was treatable since we caught it early. I paid for his surgery and his entire hospital stay, and Leo's sight was saved.
Yet Sylvia, still poisoned by Cleo's lies, believed I was envious of Leo's "holy fate" and had intentionally driven out his sacred spirit. She despised me so much that she hired someone to run me down with a car. I barely survived the impact, saved only by a quick-thinking passerby. But as I lay helpless in the hospital bed, she sneaked in and pulled my oxygen tube, leaving me to suffocate in silence.
This time, suppressing the boiling anger in my chest, I forced a warm smile. "So Leo is a blessed soul? No wonder he's always been so special. Sylvia, you've got to seize this blessing."
Was he a soul blessed by the divine, or just a sick child? Without my intervention this time, I couldn't wait to see what would happen to my "holy" nephew.
Sylvia, who had been half-doubting the situation moments before, absolutely beamed at my words, her ego soaring. She shot me a smug, validated glance before turning back to Cleo. "Mama, if Leo is holy, what do we do next?"
Cleo, entirely unruffled, glided over to her cluttered desk. She began scribbling frantically on pieces of paper, gesturing wildly as if she were channeling a powerful spell. I leaned casually against the doorframe, quietly watching the fraud at work.
Soon enough, Cleo handed Sylvia a thick stack of yellow charm papers. "Burn these, mix the ashes into a glass of water, and have your boy drink it. His divine sight will awaken very soon."
Thrilled but anxious, Sylvia hesitated. "Mama, how much is this going to cost? You know we aren't exactly well-off..."
Cleo gave her a solemn look. "Since he is a blessed soul and you found your way to me, it is clearly fate. With his holy spirit, this boy is going to do great things. Thirty charms will be three thousand dollars. It's a discount, really, for my good deed."
I had to stifle a laugh. A good deed? Her pitch sounded exactly like a sleazy used-car salesman trying to close a deal.
Yet Sylvia, playing the perfect fool, swallowed the lie whole. She winced at the price, but she paid up anyway.