Part 15 (1/2)
”Yeah. I shoulda had more self-control, but seriously, I've never felt the way I feel with you when I have been around a girl. Ever. It's like, I don't know, like you were meant for me.”
I felt sick, and cold, overcome with nausea at the realization that I was not in the world as I'd known it before. There was more than I'd ever known. At a visceral level, I understood this now. There was much more.
”So, what are you, exactly? An angel?” I asked him, flinching a bit afterward, because I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.
”Nah.”
”Magical healer, like in those churches on TV?”
”Nope.”
”Then...what?”
”I'm dead, mamita,” he said, plainly.
”Dead,” I repeated, in a breathy whisper, feeling faint.
”Right. Just like my descanso said. I'm a person, like you, but I'm dead. I'm sorry, Maria.”
”Dead,” I said again, trying to wrap my mind about it. ”But I can see you and feel you, you're warm, you're right here.”
”I - I wanted to tell you. I'm a revenant, a ghost in human form. Sometimes I'm in human form, I should say. In this dimension. It's like in d.i.c.kens, when Dr. Manette is returned to life, except he only died symbolically, and I actually did.”
”d.i.c.kens. Tale of Two Cities, you mentioned it the first day.”
”I dropped you a few hints. You didn't pick 'em up though.”
”Dead.”
”Hey. You heard of La Llorona? She's a revenant. I am too, but not all the time. I didn't know how to say it, without scaring you away. There's science involved, it's not what you think, it's actually beautiful, it has to do with the Golden Ratio and Fibonacci numbers, if you've heard of them, and the Maker, he believed I deserved -”
The world spun, and I placed my hands on the ground to steady myself, but it didn't work. The Golden Ratio? The thing Thomas was prattling about the other day? Impossible coincidences, too many of them. Everything began to fade, and disappear. Sounds grew distant and fuzzy. I felt a buzzing in the center of my brain, a churning sickness in the center of my soul.
And I knew I was pa.s.sing out. And I knew I couldn't breathe right. And then I knew nothing but darkness.
When I came to, I was in the driver's seat of my Land Rover, in the rear Starbucks parking lot, near the dumpster, with the doors locked and the Saint Anthony of the Desert card on the dashboard. It was dark out, and I was alone. My purse was on the floor of the pa.s.senger seat. There was no note, nothing from Demetrio. Just me, safe in my car, with no memory of how I'd gotten there.
Shaken, I drove the three minutes to my house. I made it home just in time for dinner, and found my worried mother in her yoga pants, fuzzy yellow slippers and an oversized National Hispana Leaders.h.i.+p Inst.i.tute t-s.h.i.+rt, busily checking a frozen lasagna in the oven while the evening news blasted tragedies on the under-cabinet flat screen TV.
”Hi,” I said. I tried to sound normal, and failed.
My mother crossed her arms sternly over her chest, angry. ”Maria.” She then proved that she had a singular penchant for holding a grudge by balling up a dishtowel and hurling it to the floor. ”What is going on with you? Where were you?”
”It doesn't matter.”
”I don't like this, Maria,” she said as her voice began to crack with tears.
”You don't like what?” I was growing irritated with her.
”This! You! What's happening to you.”
”Nothing's happening to me.”
”Oh, please! I don't even know who you are anymore, Maria! You're lying and secretive, taking off and being careless, breaking up with Logan -”
”If you like him so much, you date him, mom!”
”Do not speak to me that way, young lady. Show some respect.”
I knew this was a losing battle. ”Yes, ma'am. Sorry.”
”You're getting into car accidents and disappearing,” she continued, not quite done with her harangue.
”Mom, stop. I'm fine. I made it home for dinner on time.”
”But what if you hadn't? Where would I have looked for you?”
”But I did. Here I am. Jeez, I wonder how you'd handle it if you actually had a bad kid, mom.”
She kept listing my faults for me. ”You don't answer your cell phone when I call you, and you lie to me. Maria! You know how I feel about lying!”
”I know. Yes, ma'am.”
”Your dad was a liar!” she shrieked, totally losing it now. This is when I saw the half-empty bottle of wine on the counter. No, more like two-thirds empty. Great. ”I never thought you'd end up just like him, but look at you!”
I felt sick arguing with a drunk, but I couldn't help it. ”That's not fair. I'm not like dad.”
”You are! You're just like him. You're a liar, and I can't stand it. I am your mother!”
She was sobbing now, hysterical.
”Do not compare me to him,” I yelled back.
”How can I not? When you go around telling me lies and sneaking around.”
”I'm not 'sneaking around'.”
”Sneaking around with a cholo. With sc.u.m. Where did I go wrong, dear Lord?”
My mother angrily yanked the lasagna out of the oven and set it to cool on the granite counter. She then began to rip open a bag of prepared green salad, dumping it into a large wooden bowl while laughing and crying, and otherwise generally looking more and more like a woman who'd completely lost her mind.
”You must think I'm pretty stupid, Maria.”
”I don't. I think you're very smart. You're a lawyer. You went to Stanford. You're successful. Everyone knows that.”
Mom dropped the empty bag of salad on the counter, and threw her hands up in the air.
”You know what?” she asked. ”I'm done. I'm done with this. I've done the best I could to be a good mom to you, and I don't even know who you are anymore. I can't do this anymore. It's too much. You're trying to ruin my career, that's what this is. You mock my accomplishments, and my office. How dare you. I'm a mother, yes, but I'm a professional, and I will still be a professional long after you've gone to college and moved out. You are not my priority.”