Maybe then I’ll find peace.
Maybe then I’ll find Daire.
five
Xotichl
“It doesn’t seem right.”
“What doesn’t?” Auden reaches for my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. Temporarily abandoning his search for the perfect parking place to comfort me.
“This.” I flip a hand toward the windshield. “Coming to the Rabbit Hole. After everything that’s happened, it feels wrong to hang out here.”
“We can leave if you want.” Auden’s touch is gentle, though his tone betrays his concern. “But I thought you said you wanted to come here so we could keep an eye on things?”
“I did.” I heave a deep exhale. “And while I still think it’s important to maintain a presence, without Daire and Dace, it’s just not the same.” My voice hitches. My throat clamps on a sob. It’s been doing that a lot lately. Every time I think of my long-lost friends. Which is pretty much every second of every day.
Lost.
It’s the only word I can use.
Lost is bad, no getting around it, but dead is much worse.
The night Daire made it snow, on Christmas Eve, I was sure she was gone for good. The snow was so vibrant, falling in a rainbow of hues, I assumed it was her final good-bye, and mistook it for her elegy.
But now I’m no longer sure. Guided by something that’s more than a feeling, stronger than a hunch—a sort of inner knowing that Daire and Dace are still out there. Somewhere. It’s the kind of gut instinct I’ve learned to hone and trust. Though without any physical proof, I’m reluctant to voice it. The few times I’ve tried resulted in awkward pats on the arm, followed by empty words of encouragement. Everyone quick to placate the poor little blind girl who can’t see what to everyone else is so clear.
They assume I live in a lonely world of darkness, but they couldn’t be more wrong. While I may not see things the same way as the sighted, I’m able to grasp the kinds of things that for most remain hidden from view. The world is far richer, and much more vibrant than most people realize—a vibrating sphere of lush streams of color and pulsating swirls of energy.
Thoughts, feelings, music, people, animals, nature, inanimate objects—they’re all made of energy. Modern physics has proven what the ancient mystics have known for eons. And thanks to my regular sessions with Paloma, I’ve witnessed it firsthand.
It was my mom’s idea to seek help from Daire’s abuela. Impressed by her reputation as a healer, she figured it was worth a try to see if Paloma could reverse the blindness that struck when I was a child. But while Paloma was unable to restore my sight, she did teach me how to access my inner vision, also known as blind sight. And after months of working together with only the smallest bits of progress, it all came together the day she asked Auden to join us.
I’ll never forget the way she flattened my palm against a speaker she’d hooked up to Auden’s guitar. How after he strummed a few chords, the most glorious burst of colors blazed into the space just before me.
Auden often jokes that he loved me first. That he fell for me the second he walked in the door and saw me waiting for him in Paloma’s office. At that very moment he knew he’d have to do something big to impress me, so he wooed me with song. Pouring all of his emotions into his guitar strings, hoping I’d be able to glean how he felt.
All I know is it worked. We’ve been together ever since.
It’s funny how people always make a point to assure me that he’s really, really cute. As if I can’t see for myself.
As if I have no idea that his love for me glows in the sincerest shade of purple.
That his words are spoken in a deep and true orange.
And when he kisses me, the air swells with sparkling bubbles of pinks, silvers, and reds that swirl about the top of our heads.
It wasn’t long after, when I started to see other things too. And while it was confusing at first, it didn’t take long to determine that lies are always delivered in a dark, greasy yellow that clings to the person’s lips long after they’ve silenced. While praise, when it’s sincere, shines a bright shiny silver that showers the giver as well as the receiver. And the last few days, I’ve watched with concern as Paloma’s sadness over Daire and Dace’s absence has turned her usual benevolent shimmering blue energy into a dark, sludgy gray.
“I’m afraid it will never be the same, flower.” Auden swerves into a space, kills the engine, and pulls me against him so tightly, the ribbing of his heavy wool sweater imprints on my cheek. His voice reduced to a whisper, his lips tickling the curve of my ear, he says, “But we have to go on. Whether we like it or not, we have to adjust.” He kisses my temple, my cheek, my lips.
“And what about Cade?” The words are muffled against him but I know that he heard. “What if he shows up? What then?” I curl my fingers under the hem of his sweater, and flatten my palm against a warm patch of skin.
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Auden leans into me, his lips teasing mine. “No one’s seen him since that night. But if he does show, we’re ready for him, right?”
I pull away and tilt my face toward his, relieved to see a stream of orange flowing from his mouth. He believes what he says. He’s not trying to humor me.
“Just because we haven’t seen him doesn’t mean no one else has.” My voice rings with certainty, despite having no tangible evidence with which to back it. “At the very least, I bet his creepy Coyote has seen him. And since his dad, Leandro, doesn’t seem the slightest bit concerned, I can only assume he’s seen him too. Besides, let’s not forget that Cade is not just a demonic psychopath, he’s also a complete and total egomaniac who would never deny himself the opportunity to gloat. It’s one of his greatest pleasures. He pretty much lives for it.”