The Grief Keeper

by Alexandra Villasante

  Rey’s small smile returns. “It’s a reflecting pool.”

  I look at the surface of the water as it reflects a sky that is brighter than the grass, the trees. The pool looks like it has light inside it.

  I wonder if we are going to take a walk. Or if this is as far as we go. I wonder how I can get back to talking about the cuff.

  “Tell me something true,” Rey says. “Something that doesn’t change.”

  “The sun? The moon?”

  “No. Something important.”

  Am I supposed to say love? Or money? What can money mean to a girl with two houses and a pool for reflecting?

  “My sister,” I say. That’s not quite right because Gabi has changed a lot in the last six weeks. When I thought she’d be too scared to move, she ran, sometimes pulling me with her. And when I thought she would be too young to notice the coyotes favoring some of us, and robbing and beating others, she saw everything and said nothing. I saw her change from a little girl into a survivor, right in front of me. But Gabi is my sister. That doesn’t change.

  Rey sits up. “Your sister does change.”

  “No, I mean—”

  “Yeah. I know what you mean. You mean that how you feel about your sister doesn’t change.” She passes her hands over her head, forgetting that her hair is gone. Her face creases into a frown. “But what about when she is gone? That’s a change, right?”

  I understand her perfectly, but I don’t understand the words beneath her words. “She’s not gone.”

  “But Riley is.”

  For a moment, I imagine the reflecting pool dropping away from us, creating a hole with no bottom, darker than any wolf or night or evil thing. That is the hole Rey is in. If I don’t help her out of it, we will be sent back. No amount of cuidado will save Gabi from the trouble waiting for us at home.

  “It will get better. I can help it get better faster,” I say.

  “Were you sad when your brother died?”

  “Of course.”

  “But you don’t miss him anymore.”

  I don’t want to lie to Rey. Not when she is showing me so much of her hurt. I have lied, happily, to get what I want for Gabi and me. But it feels like an insult to lie about this.

  “I try not to think of him very much.” This is true. I make sure it is true.

  She turns to me, and her face is full of so much anger that it stops my breath. “Then you must not have loved him that much, if you can get over it that easily.”

  She doesn’t know what Pablo was to me or what he did. She doesn’t know anything about the choices I had. Or didn’t have. There are so many words I could say to show her how I feel and who I am. But I’m afraid. If I show even a little bit, it will lead to more and more. Then I won’t be able to keep it inside.

  I stand to leave, knowing I have failed. Hoping I can try again tomorrow.

  She puts a hand on my leg, just above where the cuff sits on my ankle.

  When her eyes meet mine, they are full of pain—bewildered and lost. I reach my hand out, as if I could help her out of her hole, as if I could reach down that far.

  “You aren’t alone. Not anymore,” I say, even though I’m embarrassed. Of course I don’t mean me. She has her father, Indranie, and Dr. V.

  Rey lets my foolish gesture, my reaching hand, hover in the air so long that I feel a spark of anger.

  “Okay,” she says, finally taking hold of me, letting me pull her up. “I’ll put the cuff on.”

  Chapter 14

  Rey’s prayer candle went out, making the wolf’s mouth darker. I turn on her desk lamp so I can help her with the cuff. She lies back on her bed, unmoving, as if the short walk has exhausted her. She’s wearing loose pants, which is good because Dr. Deng said that the cuff has to touch skin for the transmission to work. I put the cuff on Rey’s ankle, then sit back and wait.

  “Now what happens?” Rey asks, keeping her eyes closed.

  “I don’t know,” I say. How long does it take for the cuff to work? “Do you feel like you want to die?”

  “Yeah,” she says. “But not right this second.” She pushes herself up, and the motion seems painful. She moves like my abuelita in the year before she died, when every movement was a compromise between determination and pain.

  Rey eats the remains of her sandwich, the cold chicken she tore into pieces. She cannot feel that much like dying if she is hungry, I think. Maybe, somehow, the cuff is working.

  “I have to go,” I say, seeing the clock on her shelf. “It’s really stinky in here.” Rey sniffs at her shirt and coughs. I don’t know why, but it makes me laugh.

  “I’ll leave the door open so there is some fresher air,” I say.

  Rey’s smile vanishes. “I don’t want the door open. I don’t like being looked at like I’m a freak show.”

  Freak show? “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Like I’m an object of curiosity. The resident crazy.”

  “Maybe I can ask Olga for a fan? And maybe we can clean up tomorrow?”

  “A fan would be okay, I guess. But you don’t have to clean up. The maids will do it. I mean, they would if I let them in.” She settles herself back on her bed. I imagine she has spent so much time in her bed that there is a dip in the mattress, exactly her size.

  “Do you want me to come back after dinner? You could meet Gabi.”

  As soon as I say it, I want to unsay it. I don’t want Gabi to meet her. Rey would probably curse at her or maybe even throw something if she gets mad. I don’t want Gabi to see that.

  Rey shakes her head. “No. I’m not ready for other people. I don’t even think I’m ready for you.” She shakes her head again, as if her own words have surprised her. I pick up the scraps of her meal, the wrapper, and the bag.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Rey says, flopping her head back on her pillow.

  “If you leave food out,” I say, “you’ll get hormigas.” When she doesn’t respond, I translate. “Ants. You know. Bugs.” Her eyes are glassy and I wonder how much of this she’ll remember tomorrow.

  I turn to leave.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, right, Aimee?” she whispers.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Amber.”

  * * *

  The next morning, I sit in the kitchen watching Indranie drink coffee relentlessly.

  “Why isn’t it working?” Indranie arrived before breakfast. She has looked more and more worried as the day has gone on.

  “I don’t know,” I say, even though I know she isn’t really asking me. My plan was to go straight to Rey’s room with lunch, since food worked so well last time, and see how she was feeling. But now that she has the cuff on, Indranie says I don’t have to see her anymore.

  “Why?” I ask. It can’t have been that easy. It must be a trick. Like dreaming you’ve done something difficult, only to wake up and find that you haven’t done it at all.

  “You did well, Marisol. I don’t mind telling you, I was worried. I didn’t think you or anyone else could get that girl to change her mind. Her father and I had talked to her half a dozen times, and nothing. You stroll in with your chicken sandwich and get it done.” She laughs. For some reason, instead of being mad that I asked Traci to get the chicken sandwich, Indranie thinks it’s funny.

  “I could still see her,” I say. “Check on her, see how she is.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Indranie says as she slips her phone from her pocket. “When the treatment happens out in the real world, the donor and the receiver would probably never meet. They’d be in the same place for the treatments, but in different rooms. Which reminds me, I have to ask Dr. Deng about transmitting distance. Does distance affect efficacy . . . ?” She trails off, tapping quickly on her phone.

  I slump in my chair. I shouldn’t feel so unbalanced. I did what I was supposed t
o do, and I did it well. But instead of feeling satisfied, I feel lost. I hate the idea of not seeing Rey again. Of not sitting next to her and hearing her voice. I’ll miss her.

  “What’s worrying me now is that nothing seems to have changed.” Indranie sighs heavily. “She’s had the cuff on for over twelve hours.”

  “Maybe Rey is feeling better now. I can go and check on her if you want.”

  Indranie opens the refrigerator and looks inside. She’s done this three times already, and each time she closes the door again, taking nothing out.

  “The important question is, how are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine.” I shrug. “Maybe we are both fine today.”

  Indranie sits down, crossing and uncrossing her legs. The tray of Rey’s uneaten breakfast sits on the table next to my empty breakfast plate. I was going to wash the dishes, since Olga is away at her sister’s house for the day, but Indranie says it’s not my job to clean up.

  “If the cuff is working correctly . . .” Indranie pauses. “How do I explain this?” she whispers.

  “I’m not stupid.”

  “I know you aren’t stupid, Marisol.” She reaches across the table to squeeze my hand.

  “You know that energy can’t be created or destroyed. It doesn’t matter what kind of energy, it doesn’t cease to exist, it just becomes something else. Sunlight becomes trees, trees become firewood, firewood burns and becomes heat.” Her hands wave in the air as she moves through trees, wood, and fire. I don’t understand what that has to do with me, but I think it’s probably because she’s not doing a good job of explaining it.

  “Grief, or trauma, is like a kind of energy—a bad kind, a kind you don’t want—but it cannot be destroyed, smothered, or stopped. It has to go somewhere.”

  I nod. “It goes to me. I understand, Indranie.”

  “But it’s not going to you. That’s the problem. And earlier today, when I saw Rey, she was worse than I’ve ever seen her.” She puts her head in her hands, her fingers digging into her thick black hair. “Her father is becoming frantic. I almost called Dr. V.” She looks exhausted. Agotada. The calm face I am used to seeing is gone.

  “Dr. V doesn’t want Rey to wear the cuff,” I say, remembering.

  Indranie drinks from her mug, but it is already empty. She shakes her shoulders, as if to shake off the tiredness. “Dr. V is paranoid. If this technology works, it could save Rey’s life.” Indranie clears her throat, and her intensity lessens a bit. “It could save a lot of lives.”

  I nod. “But first it has to work.”

  “I’m calling Dr. Deng.”

  Chapter 15

  Later, Gabi and I sit on the lawn in front of the carriage house where Manny is cutting the bushes. We’re pretending to help him, but mostly we’re enjoying the sunshine.

  “Did you see Rey today?” Gabi asks.

  “No.”

  “Are you going to?”

  “I don’t know. Indranie says it’s not a good time. Why?” I ask, putting the shiny cut leaves into a brown bag.

  Gabi holds her braids up in one hand. “I want to ask her if she thinks I should cut my hair.”

  “Why would you ask a stranger that? And anyway, you shouldn’t cut your hair,” I say firmly.

  “I wanted to ask Rey. She’ll know all about American hairstyles,” Gabi says, dropping her braids and putting on work gloves to help me with the leaves. I’m not sure if I feel offended that Gabi doesn’t want my advice on her hair, or if this unsettled feeling in my stomach is because I’m jealous that she wants advice from Rey. I shake my head. It’s probably indigestion.

  “Do you have any homework?” I ask Gabi to change the subject.

  “No! There is no homework on weekends.”

  “Really? At home, we had homework all the time.”

  “Yes! And you know what else is good about American school?” She punches her fist into the sky like she’s at a fútbol match. I have to give her a look so she holds the bag still.

  “What?”

  “I get a homework pass for being good.”

  “What does that mean?” Manny has told us, many times, to stop fooling around and let the other gardeners do the work. But it’s not good for Gabi to see me sitting down doing nothing.

  “It means if I am good in school, I collect points. If I get fifty points, I get a homework pass. That means I don’t have to do homework that day.” She rubs her nose, and it reminds me of when she was little. “We also get a homework pass when the Oreos win a game.”

  I fold the bag closed and wipe off my hands. “Now you are being ridiculous,” I say, pushing her into a pile of leaves Manny has left behind.

  She sits up. “It’s true! That’s what my teacher said.”

  “An Oreo is a cookie. It can’t win a game. It can’t play a game. Your teacher was making fun of you.”

  Gabi’s face becomes stormy. “She was not. She likes me.” I see, immediately, that I made a mistake. I didn’t mean to say it that way. Before I can explain, a silver car drives through the open gates and parks behind Indranie’s car.

  Dr. Deng gets out of the car and slowly walks over to us. He’s not wearing his lab coat today but has on yet another colorful sweater.

  “Hello, Marisol,” he says tiredly.

  “Hello, Dr. Deng.”

  He glances at my leg, and the cuff feels a little heavier on my ankle.

  “I’m here to look at your cuff. Is there somewhere more private we can go?” His eyes flick to where Manny stands watching us with huge clippers in his hands.

  “Gabi, find Indranie. She’s probably talking to Mr. Warner in the big house. Tell her that Dr. Deng and I are in our room, okay?”

  She nods before running off to main house. She goes around to the back, because no one uses the front door unless they are strangers.

  I walk with Dr. Deng to the carriage house. He doesn’t try to talk to me, even to ask how the experiment is going. He’s making me nervous. I’m not sure if that’s because he’s so quiet or because I feel like the experiment is failing and he blames me. He follows me upstairs until I open the door to our room and sit on the bed.

  Dr. Deng takes the chair from the desk and sits down in front of me. He snaps on a pair of gloves before rolling up my pant leg to show the cuff. Fear spreads through my body like pain. What if I have damaged the cuff somehow? What if I have not been careful enough?

  Dr. Deng pushes his thumb against the outside of the cuff, and a light I have never seen turns on.

  “I didn’t know it did that,” I say.

  He looks up at me as if to say There’s a lot you don’t know. “It’s only an indicator that it is rebooting.”

  Indranie comes in as Dr. Deng slips the cuff off my leg.

  “Dr. Deng, thanks for coming.” She moves a purple monkey out of the way to sit down next to me on the bed. I made Gabi leave home without any peluches—not even Oso, the red bear she’s slept with since she was born. There just wasn’t room. The purple monkey showed up on our bed the first day. Then a faded yellow teddy bear followed by a glittery pink turtle. I haven’t asked, but I think Olga is leaving them for Gabi.

  “How’s it going?” Indranie asks Dr. Deng.

  “The connection is active. And I’ve been getting signals from this cuff without interruption since I installed it. I’ve reset it just now, in case it’s a glitch, but I can’t find anything wrong with this cuff.” Dr. Deng pours powder onto my ankle, smoothing it onto my skin until my ankle is pale and white, like it belongs to someone else.

  “Make sure you put powder on at least twice a day. You don’t want to damage the skin under the cuff,” he tells me, clicking the cuff back into place.

  Dr. Deng turns to Indranie. “You said the sister cuff was activated yesterday?”

  Indranie nods.

  “Was it done co
rrectly?” He looks at me, and my face gets hot. Maybe I did something wrong when I put the cuff on Rey. I followed the directions Indranie gave me. And anyway, it wasn’t hard. Press the button, put on the cuff. Idiotproof, Indranie said.

  “Yes, it was perfect,” Indranie says, smiling at me, as if to make up for Dr. Deng’s rudeness.

  He stands up. “I’ll go check on the other one,” he says, peeling off the blue gloves and putting them into the little trash can.

  “Rey,” I say. “Her name is Rey.”

  Dr. Deng nods absently.

  “I’ll take you over,” Indranie says. She walks Dr. Deng out, then turns back to me. “Don’t worry, okay? Try to have fun. It’s Friday.”

  * * *

  “Thunder! Thunder!” Gabi dances around the living room singing a song I’ve never heard. All I know is that it’s about thunder.

  “Please stop, Gabriela,” I say. I pull one of the many white pillows on the sofa onto my lap. My stomach hurts, my head hurts, and I’m worried. I don’t want to sit here and watch TV with people dancing, or worse, some of the weirder kid shows Gabi loves, like the one with a snake that eats hot sauce and rides una motocicleta.

  “Niñas,” Manny calls from the door. Manny and Olga are going out to dinner. They invited us to go with them, but I said no, even though I know Gabi would like to go out somewhere. I’m bored and Gabi is bored, and nothing is working the way I’d hoped, so I’m in a bad mood.

  They aren’t dressed up for dinner: Manny is wearing the same shirt he cut the bushes in and Olga is wearing a yellow T-shirt with a bear on it, and the bear is driving a bus. I have never seen a grown-up, especially una anciana, wear clothes like this.

  “Pórtense bien,” Manny begins before Olga hits him with her elbow and he switches to English. “Be good. We will be back at ten p.m. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

  Gabi jumps up and runs toward the entryway, but I scramble after her. “No, gracias,” I say. “Have a good time!”