I keep the date in my head, repeating it over and over under my breath until the words lose meaning. As the trailer comes into view, a mirage shimmers across my vision.
The air condenses around me, an accordion motion that leaves me nauseated and disoriented.
For the umpteenth time, my lunch escapes—chili con carne burns all the way up my esophagus. A glass of water would be awesome around about now, but that’s a luxury I don’t have. The Nirvana shirt clings to my sweaty chest, the Nirvana shirt I haven’t worn since April 6. That shirt should be lying crumpled under my bed, just an unpleasant reminder of my infidelity.
Despite the migraine that feels like my whole skull’s being trepanned, a smile tweaks up the corners of my lips. I got my wish. It’s April 6 again. Now, to just
not
repeat past mistakes, and that’s easy. Just don’t see Shira today. My feet carry me up the path, away from the trailer. A bout of swirling vertigo lands me back outside Shira’s trailer, fist knocking on the door. Panic knots up my insides. There’s no stopping it; I couldn’t just walk away.
Shira answers after two knocks, her long hair in twin braids making her look every bit the Navajo.
“Kyle?”
Before, there’d been no hesitation. I just stepped right up and kissed her, pushing her back into the trailer, not giving her time to argue. This time’ll be different, even if it takes every ounce of willpower to change my actions. My hands are trembling, the blood beating black metal drums in my ears as my feet carry me closer to her against my will.
“You don’t look so good.” She steps out of the trailer.
“I love Danny.” I force the words through gritted teeth. Trying not to repeat the past feels a bit like blazing my own trail through a thorny thicket. There’s a footpath clear of debris lying before me, offering an easy stroll, and here I am trying to force myself through a stand of acacia.
“I know.” Shira smiles at me. There’s something behind that smile, playing in the depths of her eyes.
“I don’t want to sleep with you.”
“No, don’t suppose you do.” She’s laughing, and for a moment, the branches bend to my will, letting me gain some new ground. Still, the trailer door is open, inviting. Shira’s so small. It wouldn’t take much effort to sweep her up in my arms and whisk her to bed.
Do not sleep with Shira
. It becomes a looping mantra.
Teeth on my tongue and the taste of blood. The pain helps clear my head. If I can change this moment right now, maybe everything else would be OK as well.
Do not sleep with Shira.
“Sorry.” The words stick in my throat. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Are you leaving?” she asks, dragging a bare toe through the sand. Wind chimes clatter in the breeze, drawing my attention back to the open trailer door.
It’s too hard, it’s impossible to change what’s already been done.
She’s kissing me then and I’m kissing her back, drawn down in a black tide of despair. Maybe Mya was right; maybe there’s no point trying to change the past.
Shira pulls away and gives me a sad smile. “You ready?”
I shake my head.
“I know this is hard, Kyle. But we’re doing it for Danny.”
The world slams back into focus. Flash forward thirteen weeks.
Shira’s in black, a neat little dress with a modest neckline. Thick eyeliner and burgundy lips—she looks like a doll.
“Your ears!” she shrieks. “Holy crow, you’re bleeding.” She drags me into the trailer, sits me down on a stool.
Deep breaths. It takes several long moments before I’ve regained composure. Shira’s dabbing my ears then trying to rub the blood out of my white shirt collar.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Like why your ears are bleeding?” Her face is pinched with concern.
Taking her hand, I pull her round to stand between my knees. She stares into my eyes expectantly.
“You ever heard of the multiverse?”
She shakes her head and bites her lip. After a brief summary of the physics, I finally divulge my deep, dark secret.
“According to this Princeton professor, Obscura’s caused a rift in this multiverse, making it possible to shift between alternate realities.”
Her eyes widen and she sits down on the stool opposite me. “Say that again.”
I do, and she shakes her head.
“That sounds crazy. You really think it’s possible?” Given all her New Age juju, I’m not sure why she’s having a tough time believing it.
“Yes, it is, because it’s been happening to me and dozens of others.” The rest comes out in one long rush, my tongue tripping over the words in my desperation to be rid of the secret.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asks, looking hurt.
“I didn’t know how to.” I try to hide behind my fringe.
“So all this time, you’ve been seeing Daniel in this other world and you didn’t think it important enough to tell me?” Fat tears well out of her black-lined eyes and streak charcoal down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“No.” She tosses the towel at me. “I don’t want to hear it. This whole time?” She shakes her head, wipes her cheek, only smearing the makeup and making it worse. “I don’t like you very much at the moment.”
“I can understand that.”
“And this Mya girl. You tell her and not me? Are you sleeping with her too, Kyle?”
“No, she’s just a friend.” The blush warms my cheeks at the memory of Mya’s lips on mine.
Shira folds her arms and juts out a hip. “You knew I blamed myself for his death, and you’re too afraid to tell me there’s this other world where
I’m
dead? You don’t think I’d want to know about it, maybe send Danny a message to say I’m sorry?”
A fresh wave of blood heats my face. I hadn’t even considered that either of them might want to contact each other.
“So you believe me?”
“Of course I do. It explains why you’ve been acting so weird.”
“I’m sorry, Shira.” Should’ve told her ages ago.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her dark eyes bore holes through my chest, through my very soul.
“Honestly…” I’ve screwed everything else up, might as well tell the truth. “Because I was jealous of you and Danny. I wanted him to myself.”
“You were jealous of
me
?” Her bottom lip trembles and fresh tears flow down her face, drip off her jaw. “Danny was going to run away with
you
to New York. You were both going to leave me. He chose to be with you.” She buries her face in her hands and her shoulders shudder.
Holy crap, Danny’d told her about his plan. Little good in berating myself now, though, for being an inconsiderate and selfish asshole. Everything Mya said was true; I’m an awful human being.
“Why do you think I did what I did, huh?” Her voice is full of cracks, misery oozing out of them, thick and heavy.
“What did you do?” Her slim shoulders fit so easily under my arm. She tries to fight me, beating her fists against my chest and I let her. Then she folds in my embrace, soaking my sleeve with black tears.
“I’ve been such an idiot,” I whisper into her ear when she doesn’t answer, kissing her hair. “I am so sorry, Shira.”
“I should never have done it, but I was hurt and angry.” Her words come out staccato between her sobs.
“Is that why you slept with me?” I hold her away from me, looking at her face.
She looks up at me with smudged eyes. “I thought that maybe you wouldn’t want Daniel any more, not after… And at least I’d still have one of you. Stupid, right? I was just so afraid of losing what we had. Guess that makes me pretty pathetic.”
“No, I get it, Shira.”
“Why did you sleep with me, though? And even after Dan… I just don’t understand.” She swallows hard, looking at me with eyes full of expectation.
Words never seem enough, totally inadequate for expressing the thoughts in my head. “Don’t know, maybe… I thought maybe I wasn’t gay, or that I could fix it, fix me. And then after Danny died, being with you was like…”
“Being with him?”
I nod and she hugs me. “I kinda felt the same way.”
We stand for a while just hugging each other and this simple embrace feels better than anything else we’ve ever shared.
“You’ve been feeling confused lately, right?” She pulls away, studying my face. I nod.
“Feeling tired? Dizzy? Lack of appetite? Seeing strange things sometimes, any nightmares?”
All over my body, fine hairs are standing at attention. I swallow before speaking. “Yeah, how did you know that?”
“I don’t know about rifts in multiple universes or anything, but I know about ghost sickness.”
Great, Native superstition. Incense bath incoming. “Seriously?”
“You’re so quick to believe in multiple realities but won’t consider a spirit world? Isn’t that just an alternate reality?” She folds her arms, her face dressed in irritation.
“You’ve got a point. So what about ghost sickness then? Can it be cured?”
“I’m no expert, but I know someone who is.”
“I’m not spending nine days in some crumbling hogan, communing with Mother Earth.”
Her eyes flash with anger and her lips draw tight together, letting me know I’ve crossed the line, offending her.
“Sorry.”
“You should be. You really know nothing about anything. I’m just asking you to talk to someone who might have more answers than this Professor Cruz. Or are you too afraid to face the ghosts that might be haunting you?” She raises her delicate eyebrows. It’s a challenge and I can’t back down.
“Fine, I’ll go see your medicine man.”
“Show a little respect.” We glare at each other, but the intensity of her stare makes me cave and apologize again.
“When can we go?”
“I’ll let you know. Niyol isn’t always around,” she says.
“It has to be before tomorrow night.”
“Or else the world will end?” Shira rolls her eyes.
“If this ghost sickness doesn’t kill me first.” That’s a sobering thought, and Shira nods.
“We’re going to be late for the memorial,” she says, going over to the sink to wash her face. “Your shirt’s a mess. You can’t wear that.”
“Think Danny couldn't care less.” I smooth the creases from my shirt.
“Will you tell Daniel I’m sorry, about everything?” She takes my hand as we leave the trailer.
“Of course.” Her fingers feel frail in my hand. “Thank you for believing me.”
“Thank you for being honest, finally.” She kisses my cheek with a grin. We both put on our stoic faces as we head toward the cemetery.
* * *
Except for the unpleasant ice cream incident, I haven’t seen any of Danny’s family since before the fire, having so far managed to avoid them in town. It’s easier that way, for all of us.
Now they’re here, gathered near Danny’s grave. Not sure why they felt the need to make this already morbid event even more macabre by holding it at this hole in the ground. The lettering is barely visible beneath the wreaths of flowers, rosary beads, and dripping candles. His tombstone reads
Juan Daniel Quijano Martinez, Beloved Son and Brother.
Friend and lover too, but they forgot to chisel that in stone.
The tombstone to the right is small, bearing only his baby sister’s name and the year she was born. His uncle’s stone is older, weathered with the engraving in Spanish.
His mom, dad, and Gabriela look somber in black. I haven’t been to his grave either. With him alive in the other reality, it just never really felt necessary to visit a pile of bones.
The whole town’s turned up, with flowers and candles, wide-brimmed hats and sad faces. None of it seems real.
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can. Just think of Daniel.”
“Alive and in a wheelchair?”
“No, happy and whole and totally in love with you,” Shira says. Her tone is gentle, but her words clear admonishment. Her fingers squeeze mine. I don’t deserve her friendship.
Mya’s there, arms folded and frowning at Nicholas, who’s trying to woo her with a white rose meant to go on a grave. A pang of jealousy feels like a knife in my gut.
“We should pay our respects.” Shira leads me over to Danny’s family. My gaze is glued to the ground; I can’t look his mom in the face.
“Hello, Kyle,” Danny’s dad says. “How you doing, son?” He’s eyeing my stained shirt.
“I’m OK. How are you?”
Gabriela rolls her eyes and stomps off toward a trestle table lined with refreshments. Angel’s there, cramming pastries into his wide mouth. He narrows his eyes at me and gives me the finger. Not sure why I’ve earned his animosity.
Maybe it’s the scars that make Danny’s parents forgive me, or maybe they really do think it was God who claimed the life of their only son. Danny’s mom struggles against a sob, pulling me into a hug, crushing me against her soft chest. She smells like talcum powder and chili. When she releases me, there’s a hand on my shoulder.
My dad’s standing right behind me.
“Juan.” My dad shakes Danny’s dad’s hand. Their eyes are hard as something unspoken passes between them. My dad holds onto Juan’s hand a little too long.
“Thank you for coming, Michael.”
The moment of tension is broken by Mom who hugs Danny’s mom, kissing her on both cheeks.
More condolences offered, we move off toward the grave, leaving Shira chatting to a few townsfolk.
“What are you doing here?” I ask my parents quietly.
“Your mother and I…” Dad clears his throat, loosens the tie he was saving for my graduation and continues, “we just want you to know that we’re here for you, son. Daniel meant a lot to you and we appreciate your loss.” His eyes keep shifting from the ground to my mom and eventually settle on my face. “We’re here for you, no matter what.”
“We love you, Kyle.” My mom hugs me, kisses my hair. “What on earth happened to your shirt?”
“It’s nothing.” I shrug away from her fussing.
Seems I’m the only one embarrassed by this display of affection; everyone else is more focused on the giant portrait of Danny they’ve mounted next to his tombstone. Big dark eyes peering out from under unruly bangs. A lopsided grin splayed across his face. It hurts too much to look at.
“Leave the boy be, Beth.” Dad tousles my hair and heads toward the refreshments.