Parallel Visions (9 page)

She cups my cheek with her warm, papery hand.
“
Your gift is strong; I can feel it. But it is deeply tied to your heart chakra. It affects your lungs, your heart, and your breathing when you see.
No ?
”

“
Yes, ”
I say, blinking at her.

Gil
’
s grandmother nods.
“
You must surround yourself with love whenever you see. Pull toward you all of the love you feel for others and that you know others feel for you. Imagine it like a coat or a blanket that you wrap around you. That will help you to breathe.
”

“
I—thank you so much, Mrs. Flores.
”

Gil
’
s grandmother laughs, her voice throaty and full.
“
Call me Nana. Everyone else does. Gil says you have never met another sighted one?
”

“
You mean someone else with a psychic gift? No. My parents don ’
t believe in it.
”

“
So.
”
Nana nods.
“
You will come to me any time you have a question. Any time you need to know you are not alone. I will help you.
”

Tears burn my eyes.
“
Thank you, ”
I whisper.

Gil squeezes my arm.
“
Told you she ’
d like you, ”
he says.

“
You will see my Inez now?
”
Nana says.
“
You will help.
”

“
Yes, of course. I don ’
t know how I can help, though.
”

“
Maybe she will listen to you. She doesn ’
t want to listen to an old woman like me.
”

“
Nana, you know that ’
s not true, ”
a frail girl quietly protests as she comes up behind Nana, her face as grey as oatmeal. She ’
s dressed in baggy black sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt that only emphasize how pale she looks. Dark pouches sag beneath her troubled eyes and her greasy hair hangs limply.

Beside me, Gil sucks in his breath.

“
I ’
m Kate, ”
I say.

Inez nods.
“
Come talk?
”
and turns away, shuffling down the hall. I follow, Gil close behind me. We walk down a hall with colorful paintings of trees and dancing women, and turn right at an open doorway. As I walk in I ’
m hit with the stale odor of unwashed body. I blink in the dim light and see that the walls are covered with posters of strong women singers: Sinead O
’
Connor, Melissa Etheridge, and the Indigo Girls stare out at me. They overwhelm the small room, making it almost claustrophobic .

Inez slumps down on her bed, her rainbow bedspread a riot of color. I pull out her desk chair, which almost touches the edge of her bed in the tiny space, and sit.

“
So you ’
re the girl Gil likes, ”
Inez says, leaning forward.

Gil likes me?
My heart beats faster.

“
Inez!
”
Gil says, his face a bright red.

Inez smiles at him, though the smile doesn ’
t change the misery in her eyes.
“
Gil, why don ’
t you let us talk by ourselves?
”

He raises his eyebrows at me. I nod.

“
Okay.
”
Gil kisses Inez ’
s forehead, then leaves.

Inez stares at her hands for a long moment, then pats her rainbow bedspread.
“
My nana wove this for me, ”
she says.
“
I know I ’
m lucky—she and Gil both let me be who I am. Even encourage me.
”

“
That ’
s pretty awesome, ”
I say.
“
Not everyone does that.
”

Inez snorts.

That must have sounded so stupid to her, considering how half the students went after her for being queer.

“
Are you going to come back to school?
”
I ask.

Inez shrugs, still not looking at me.
“
What for?
”

“
I don ’
t know...to show those homophobes they can ’
t win?
”

Inez
’
s head jerks up and she stares at me, her eyes so full of pain I want to look away. A faint smile crosses her lips.
“
That ’
s the best reason I ’
ve heard.
”

She swallows.
“
Gil said you saw me killing myself.
”

“
Uh—yeah. I hope—well, he just wanted to help you. I do, too.
”

“
Because you don ’
t think I should die.
”

“
No, you can ’
t! Gil and Nana—they ’
d be devastated. They might never get over it.
”

“
I know, ”
Inez whispers.
“
I don ’
t want to hurt them. But sometimes the pain is so bad I don ’
t think I can get through it.
”

“
That sounds pretty unbearable.
”
I want to take away her hurt but I don ’
t know how.
“
I can ’
t imagine the kind of pain you live in.
”

Inez smiles through her tears.
“
But you have pain, too. I can see it.
”

“
It ’
s nothing, ”
I shake my head.

“
Pain is pain. It all hurts. So tell me about yours.
”

“
I ’
m just—out sick a lot. With asthma.
”
My voice falters. Inez is serious about killing herself. What can I say to change her mind?
“
Asthma is so common now it doesn ’
t sound like anything. But I have it really bad. I never stop thinking about how quickly I can go from being okay to having a really bad attack—and even dying.
”

“
That must be so scary, ”
Inez says.

I chew on my lip. I don ’
t know if I should say what ’
s in my head or not. I shrug.
“
I think about dying a lot. Every time I have an attack, I feel like I ’
m being strangled. Sometimes I have to fight to live. But I never want to give up.
”

Inez
’
s eyes glisten.
“
I don ’
t want to give up, either—at least not most of the time. When some of the kids at school sent me death threats, it just made me want to fight harder. But then...I was gang-raped.
”

“
That ’
s horrible!
”
I say.
“
Beyond wrong. I ’
m really sorry that happened to you.
”
I shift on the hard chair, the wood creaking.
“
I know my pain doesn ’
t even compare to yours, but I ’
ve almost died a few times, and besides the terror, what I remember most was how upset my family was. How fragile they looked. Like a gust of wind could flatten them.
”

Inez doesn
’
t say anything; she just nods at me to go on. I lick my dry lips and keep talking.
“
I know your pain is bad; worse than I can ever imagine. But you have the chance to live—to show those disgusting creeps that you ’
re not going to let them get the better of you. You have the chance to be happy. To find someone you love. To do things that make you feel alive.
”

I stop when my voice becomes shaky. I ’
ve never said this to anyone before.
“
There was a girl in the hospital with me—she had asthma, too. She died when she was ten. I think of her every day. It could have been me. So I try to do what makes me happy. And I want to make a positive difference, too. And spend all the time I can with the people I love. The people who are here with me now.
”

“
Thank you, ”
Inez says, her voice breaking.
“
You ’
re right.
”
She leans over and squeezes my hand.
“
I knew you were a good one when Gil started talking about you. I ’
m glad you came. Gil is right to like you.
”

“
Thanks, Inez.
”
I get up and try to smile at her, not knowing if I ’
ve helped or made things worse. But at least she talked to me. That ’
s got to be something.

I grab a pen off her desk and scribble on a piece of paper.
“
Listen—if you ever want to talk or anything—this is my number.
”

Inez holds onto it tightly as we say goodbye.

I walk out of her room—and bump right into Gil. He grabs me and blushes. He must have been standing there listening the whole time.

“
Come on. I ’
ll walk you home, ”
he says.

Outside, the sky is a bright, clear blue and the sun is warm on my skin. We walk in silence for a block, passing people walking their dogs or coming home from work, old men smoking, and kids carrying instrument cases or sports bags. Cars drive past in both directions at a steady pace as rush hour gets underway.

Gil touches my arm.
“
Thanks for speaking so honestly with Inez. You were amazing; I think it ’
ll help.
”

I knew he
’
d listened in!
“
I hope so, ”
I say.
“
I like her.
”

“
Yeah, Inez is a sweetheart. Never hurt anyone. She used to be so upbeat before that whole mess at school, and then those assholes assaulting her. It ’
s a good sign she came out to meet you. She doesn ’
t seem to care about much anymore.
”

“
She cares about you and Nana.
”

“
Yeah, ”
Gil says shortly.
“
Listen—”
He gestures widely with his arm, almost hitting my head, “
Sorry! Uh, do you want to hang out sometime? I mean, when we ’
re not trying to save one of our sisters?
”

My heart beats faster.
“
Yeah. I ’
d like that.
”

Gil
’
s solemn face breaks into a smile.
“
Great! That ’
s great. I wasn ’
t sure—”

“
I wasn ’
t sure, either.
”

Gil stops walking to stare at me.
“
But—I ’
ve tried to tell you so many times.
”

“
You have? When?
”
I ask, my breath hitching.

“
When I offered to carry your backpack. When I ’
d hold the door open for you, or offer you a stick of gum.
”

“
I thought you were just being nice to the sick girl.
”

“
Being nice?
”
Gil scratches his head.
“
I try to be a good guy—but Kate, that was me being interested in you. For months.
”

He looks so dumbfounded I have to laugh.
“
I guess you have to be a little less subtle with me.
”

“
Less subtle. Got it, ”
Gil says. Then he leans in to kiss me.

His lips are soft and gentle as they slide across mine. My whole body tingles.

Gil pulls away to look at me. I tug him back, and kiss him again. It feels so good—better than I can remember anything ever feeling.

I have to pull away to catch my breath.
“
Wow.
”