Finding Joy

by Adriana Herrera

  I scrambled for other things to talk about, trying to ward off the awkward silences that kept sucking the oxygen from the space between us. “Did you get a chance to rest before you had to drive down here?”

  He shrugged but kept looking at the road. “Yes. The last day I was there, my dad was better and my mom was home, so I slept. It was nice having time at home with her. Family’s hard sometimes, but they’re my people.” He sighed then, and it sounded so heavy. I wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but when he did speak it was like he was talking to my soul. “It’s hard to know sometimes where their expectations end, and my own happiness begins.”

  I looked at his profile. He seemed so worried, so exhausted. I was tempted to just mouth off some platitude to make him feel better, but tried for honesty instead. I at least owed him that.

  “My mom was so fragile after my dad died. I stayed in Ithaca for college because I couldn’t put her go through losing me too. After I graduated, I let her push me to work in humanitarian relief. She thought it would be a great way to honor my dad, and in some ways I did too.”

  I bit my lip, mortified at voicing something I’d hardly let myself think about. “Like by doing the same work he did, I’d feel closer to him somehow. I never even considered another career.” I lifted a shoulder, feigning levity I didn’t feel. “It’s so funny because my dad was a free spirit, man. He did whatever the fuck he wanted. I don’t think he’d be very impressed with me.”

  Elias shook his head, seemingly unhappy with my comment. This time he did turn to look at me, his eyes serious. “Don’t say that. You’re a good man, Desta. Brave.”

  I wanted to scoff or dismiss his words, but I let him finish.

  “It’s not an easy thing to turn your back on the dreams the people you love have for you. Sometimes the hardest choices are between living for yourself and fulfilling the hopes they have for you.”

  He paused, and after a moment spoke in a voice filled with ache. “There have been many times when I’ve asked myself if seeing pride light up my mother’s eyes is more important than letting her know who I really am.” His face looked so grim in that moment, resigned. “It hurts to know it’s only a matter of time before I put it out, but I’m so tired of hiding.”

  I didn’t know what to say. This was not where I thought the conversation would go and I was feeling completely out of my depth. Elias was not out to his mother—the secret was hurting him. But I also didn’t want to be the reason he rushed this or made any rash decisions. I wasn’t sure I was worth it.

  I turned my face to look out the window, trying to think how to answer. “None of these things are easy, Elias. Why do we have to be responsible for the light in anyone’s eyes? Is it even fair to put that burden on us?” I pressed my cheek to the glass and closed my eyes. “It all makes me so tired, you know?”

  After a moment, I felt his hand squeeze mine for a second. I stiffened but didn’t pull away. If he noticed, he didn’t say.

  Chapter 20

  The rest of the week flew by. The new survey area was not as populated as the first one, so we had to travel long distances between sites, which meant a lot of time in the car. I spent hours talking with Abraham and Yohannes, with Elias’s help. I asked how they thought the families were answering questions, or what else we could do to make them more responsive or at ease.

  Elias was extremely efficient in keeping the communication flowing, but after a couple of days he had completely stopped any attempts at more private conversations with me. He was polite and professional, but he kept his distance. No konjo, no runs, nothing. Which was exactly what I wanted.

  I should have been happy with things as they were. Except I was miserable and wished I could take it all back. But I’d be damned if I was going to be one of those people who played out their insecurities at the expense of others. I had gone down this road because I knew in the end it was for the best, and I would see it through.

  Meanwhile, I was getting increasingly annoyed at myself for noticing every move that Elias made, every word he exchanged with someone. It was so fucking unhealthy. I tracked him as he walked around the villages, laughing with the families we visited, picking up their kids, chasing them around. He was so good with everyone, and I desperately missed being the focus of his attention.

  I wasn’t happy unless I was grasping at straws, and Elias had become my new way to punish myself.

  That night when we pulled up to the hotel, I practically jumped out of the car the moment it stopped moving. As I grabbed my backpack, I looked at Elias. “See you at dinner.”

  I expected him to nod and drive off, but instead he rubbed the back of his neck and said, “I won’t be at dinner tonight. See you in the morning.”

  I managed to respond, and I was fairly certain my tone disguised the fact that my chest caved into my spine. “Sure, no problem. Have a good night.”

  He said goodbye and turned the truck around to take it to the parking lot in the back of the property. I walked back to my room, doing everything I could to avoid thinking about how I was feeling.

  I showered and changed, then came down to the dining room where there were already a few people from our group talking and drinking beers. Sam was there with Tsehay, Abraham, and one of the drivers. For once he didn’t seem like he was berating them or acting like an asshole, but I still didn’t feel like dealing with him.

  I didn’t feel like dealing with anyone.

  I almost turned around and went back to my cottage, but sulking because Elias decided to pass up on another chance to be ignored by me would be next-level messy.

  I walked over to the bar and ordered a beer, wanting to have a few minutes to myself before I joined the others at the table. Tsehay gestured at a chair between her and Abraham, but I held my hand up, letting her know I needed a moment.

  I looked around the room as I sipped my beer. The dining room was its own building, designed in the same traditional style as the cabins. From the outside it looked like they had pushed three enormous beehives together. Inside it was long and wide, and smelled like the wood they used to make it. There were large windows running along the walls, and we could see the lamps lighting the paths to the rooms. They were open right now, and there were all kinds of sounds coming in.

  The night was always buzzing with critters and animals serenading our evening meals. Crickets, cicadas, and the occasional hyena made for quite the symphony. Later, when everyone had gone to bed, packs of hyenas would start circling the property and would whoop all night. It was creepy as fuck, and when Elias first told me about it, I joked he’d have to sneak into my room and protect me while we were staying here. He just laughed and told me he’d buy me a flashlight.

  I had it in my pocket right now, actually. The morning after he arrived I found a little red flashlight sitting on the passenger seat of the Cruiser, because even though I’d been acting like a complete asshole, he was still kind and kept his promises.

  Remembering how easy things had been with us just a week ago and how shitty they felt now sank my mood even further. In an attempt to drag myself out of my funk, I tuned back into what was happening around me and focused my attention on the Ethiopian music coming in through the speakers. The woman’s voice was so melancholy, like her heart was breaking, and a guitar or some other string instrument was blending with her words, making it the perfect sorrowful companion. I closed my eyes to listen. Her singing was so beautiful I could have cried.

  When it ended I opened my eyes and turned to see Tsehay standing next to me.

  “That was beautiful and sounded really sad,” I told her.

  She squeezed my shoulder, obviously catching on to my mood. “Ethiopia has gotten under your skin, Desta.” I almost laughed, because if she only knew how much. “That was Aster Aweke.” Tsehay explained and I nodded, recognizing the name of the popular pop singer. “She was singing Tizita—it’s like our version of the blues.” She smiled sadly at that, and I remembered how soulful her voice was. I wonde
red where that depth came from. “Tizita means something like a memory with a tinge of regret.”

  I shook my head and laughed a humorlessly. “Figures.”

  “I sing this one sometimes when we play at Black Orchid.”

  I smiled at her casual mention of her alter ego and changed the subject, desperate to get off my moping. “That’s right, we haven’t had a chance to talk about your star power.”

  She gave me a smirk, but her face did not look amused. She sat by me and then quietly asked, “Where’s Elias?”

  Okay, so she was on to me.

  I schooled my face in a neutral expression and answered, “Not sure. He said he was going to skip dinner.”

  She kept her eyes on me for another moment without speaking. I panicked. Because if Tsehay suspected something, that meant other people might too. She took pity on me and whispered, “I know.”

  Before I had any time to react, her voice dropped even lower, and she looked up to the table where our group was chatting a few yards away. “I was the one who introduced Eli to his ex.” She grimaced. “Which was a big mistake. He hasn’t said anything about you guys, but I know him. We’ve been friends since university.”

  I was too shocked to have any clever replies, so I took another gulp of my beer and sat there in silence. She chuckled at whatever expression I was making. “He seems happy, and maybe this thing with you will give him the push he needs to finally be a little selfish, and take his chance.”

  I shook my head, unsure of what she was implying. “You mean going to the States.”

  “Yes, he’s been agonizing about that for over a year. The issues with his father and then the disappointment with Byron have held him back. But he needs to go. Eventually the hiding and the secrecy are going to get to him, and that would be a shame.”

  The weariness in her voice made me think she was speaking from experience. I wasn’t even sure what to say, but she was waiting for an answer, so I made myself say something.

  With my eyes trained in the direction of the group, I spoke honestly. “I’m not sure I’m worth Elias potentially ruining his relationship with his parents.” I glanced at Tsehay, scowling as if she did not see eye to eye with me on that at all.

  “I think that decision is not completely up to you.” Her expression softened then. “And I don’t think it would be all about you—he needs to do this at some point. Hiding like that, it eats at you. It will wear him out eventually. He needs to breathe freely for a while, at least to know what it’s like. He can’t keep using his family as an excuse not to do that.”

  She sighed, as if wondering if the emotional toil of going on with this conversation was worth it. But then she moved closer, her eyes half-closed. “There is so much going on in our country. So many vital things to focus on, work toward…it’s hard to prioritize things that don’t seem essential. But we must do that too. It’s not being frivolous to think about our own happiness, our safety in here.” She tapped a finger to her temple and then somewhere by her heart. “How can we do this work we do if we are walking around with big holes in our chests?”

  My eyes widened at the we. Her closeness with Elias made total sense now. She must have figured out my curiosity because she smiled as she cocked her head in the direction of the table. “I’ll tell you my story some time, Desta. Come on, let’s join the table before Sam decides we’re sleeping together.”

  I rolled my eyes and as I finished my beer before glancing over at him. “He’s such an ass.”

  Tsehay didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. After a moment, we moved to join the others. All through dinner I thought about what she’d told me and decided I needed to talk with Elias. Even if we couldn’t be together, he deserved better than what he was getting from me.

  The next morning I was out of my room and headed for a run just as the sun was coming up. I had my headphones on and set out on my usual route. I had actually gotten used to the weird whooping sounds the hyenas made and had a decent night of sleep. My body was eager for some exercise, and as soon as I set out, I felt awake and energized.

  I ran alongside the two-lane road, which went up rolling hills. On either side of me were rows and rows of coffee bushes still half hidden in the morning mist. There were traditional houses interspersed with the orchards a bit farther in from the road. In the distance I saw green mountains looming.

  It was so beautiful here.

  My mom had been right—there was just something in the air. After over a month, my heart felt bigger. Like coming back to this place was a puzzle piece I’d been missing.

  As I ran and the sun settled higher in the sky, I started to notice the now-familiar smells of the mornings. Smoke from wood fires were burning, boiling water to make the morning’s breakfast and tea or coffee.

  I let my mind go and focused on what I knew already. I liked this work, but I wanted to do more at home. I wanted to work with LGBTQ+ youth. Children of immigrants and refugees who were trying to navigate life in the States and were probably struggling to blend those identities of who they were to their families and who they were inside. The only issue was telling my mother. Well, that and Elias, what I felt for him. Which by now I knew was not something that would just go away, and I still had no idea what to do about it. And I was scared of hurting my mom by taking the last tangible thing she had that connected her to my dad.

  But I couldn’t keep that going at my own expense. Like I’d told Elias, it wasn’t fair to have all that on my shoulders. I had to do it. The mere thought of working in something different and closer to home made me feel lighter, and for the first time in days, I felt like I could take in a deep breath.

  By the time I was about half a mile back to the hotel, the sun was up and I had my usual entourage of boys from the village running after me. I sprinted as far as I could for the last couple of hundred yards and doled out the stash of hard candy I had in my hoodie pocket to those who kept up to the end.

  I stumbled into the courtyard and was doing some stretches before I noticed Elias had just run in as well. “Hey, I didn’t see you out there.”

  He startled when he saw me and started moving toward the room, giving me a wide berth. “I went another way, a longer trail. We leave in an hour.”

  Not a smile, not a wave. Nothing. He just left me standing there, and I completely deserved it.

  Chapter 21

  That afternoon we were getting in the car at the end of the day when Elias turned to me and asked, “Would you mind if we stop by one the houses we visited earlier this week? They’re just about twenty minutes out of the way. I want to drop something off.”

  At this point I was so desperate to get any sort of approval from him that I automatically nodded. “Sure, no problem. Did we forget something there?”

  “No, I have something for them.”

  “Okay.” That was a pretty cryptic answer, but he didn’t seem like he was going to offer more information, so I just put my head back and closed my eyes for the ride.

  I must have dozed off, because I came to when Elias slammed the door on his side. He popped his head through the car window and said, “I’ll be right back.”

  I twisted around to spy on what he was doing and saw him run to the back of the vehicle and take two black plastic bags out. He quickly walked up a stone path that led to a set of three houses clustered together on a little hill. Each one had a garden in front, which this time of year had lots of veggies hanging from well-cared for plants. When he got to the one in the center, he looked inside the house, but waited outside.

  After a moment a woman and two girls came out. I remembered them from the survey. They’d been curious when we were in their home, shyly asking questions. Elias greeted the mom and smiled at the girls as he handed them the bags. The woman’s face lit up and the little girls started peeking in. Soon another woman from a neighboring house came over with her girl as well. The mom from the first one started riffling through the bags, hefting out a pile of notebooks and school supplies,
then passed it to her neighbor.

  The woman threw her hands up and bowed to Elias, who shook his head like it was too much. He spoke to them for a couple of minutes as the girls got out the stuff he brought and the women nodded vehemently at whatever he was saying. Not long after, they said their goodbyes, and Elias jogged back to the truck and started us back toward the main road. Abraham and Yohannes spoke up from the back in Amharic, their voices amused.

  After a moment I turned to him. “So you got some notebooks for the kids? That’s nice.”

  He looked at me for a moment as if trying to figure out what my curiosity meant, but he just answered my question. “When we were here, I was talking to the mothers and they asked if I knew of any program that had school supplies for girls. You know how hard it can be for girls to go to school, especially in the rural areas, but these women want their girls to attend. They saved up to buy them the uniforms, which, when you have as little as they do, can mean sacrificing other things. But they didn’t have the notebooks and other supplies, so I thought I’d bring them some to encourage them.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

  “Is that what you did last night after we got back?”

  “Yes, I went to the stationery store in town, since we’d be out before they opened this morning. We’re going to another area next week, so I wanted to bring them these while we were not too out of the way.”

  I didn’t deserve him. He was entirely too pure and too good.

  While I’d spent my week freezing him out, letting my insecurities and baggage come between us, he was going about life the way he always did, using his time and energy to do what was right. To stop and notice what was needed and trying to make a difference.

  I felt ashamed at how I’d behaved toward him in the last few days. How I’d decided for Elias that coming out to his family was something he was not strong enough to do. What made it worse was that I knew none of this was about him. No. This was about me. My fear that once someone decided I was worth fighting for, I would have to live up to it.