Page 124 of Ruined Vows

Well, damn, if I knew this was gonna get me a spa session and sweet words, I would’ve dragged us up here weeks ago.

My body melts into the mattress as Isaak gives me a full back massage, marveling out loud to himself about how soft and silky and gorgeous and glowing I am. His fingers are strong but gentle at the same time.

When I had my experience, I felt like the person I unlocked during the session was my deepest, truest self.

Which I think means Isaak’s deepest, truest self is this gentle, loving being. Rather than seeing to his own pleasure, he’s connecting with me and seeing to mine.

I’ve never met a man like him. I’ve never met anypersonlike him. Not everyone reacts like this to the mushrooms. Some of the guys from my program just started monologuing about every thought that came into their head, as if the medicine made them feel more ingenious than they already did every day (which was a lot).

But Isaak is, being so…Isaak.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He’s bent over the bed now, his forehead pressed to the top of my spine. “I’ve never touched anything so beautiful in my whole stupid ugly life.”

My chest squeezes in pain for him. And I remember, as nice as this feels, I’m here for him. I want healing for him more than I’ve ever wanted anything for myself.

The music shifts again to an ayurvedic chant.

It’s time. I’m his guide, so let’s make this count. Let’s take it in deeper.

“What about your life is ugly, my love?”

My eyes open wide. Those last words just popped out on accident.

“All of it. Before I met you.”

Okay, so he didn’t react to themy lovepart, and I need to get over myself. This is about him.

“I bet not all of it. But it’s okay to talk about the ugly parts here. Nothing has to be scary while you’re here with me in this place. Does it feel scary to talk about?”

He’s lying his forehead fully against my spine now, and he sort of rubs it around. “No, I guess not.” His hands are still on my shoulders.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Well, it was real ugly and scary when I was just a kid. I can see it in front of me if I close my eyes. I’m back there now.”

“What do you see, honey?” I hope I’m not pushing too far, too fast.

“I’m a little boy in a gym. All the other kids went home and I’m still there, waiting. I’m happy I’m alone ’cause I don’t like the other kids. They make fun of me ’cause my clothes ain’t clean. Not since Abuelita died a couple months ago. But the teacher isn’t happy because she’s been waiting too long. She keeps trying to call Mom and can’t get ahold of her.”

My chest squeezes all the breath out of me, it feels like. I want to ask a thousand questions. I know he grew up in group homes, but he’s talking about hismom. And again, I have to remind myself who this is for. This isn’t a fact-finding mission for me. What might helphim?

“Do you think your mom wanted to be there?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he says with a sudden sob. He buries his face against my back. “I see her face, too, right beside mine. She’s so beautiful but so fucked up. And there’s mydad,except it’s not my dad, it’s Elmer’s. Oh, Jesus, they’re all there at once?—”

His words break off as he erupts into more hard, body-wracking sobs as a burst of frantic Spanish spills out of his mouth. “Déjame sentir la alegría y el regocijo; que se gocen los huesos que dañaste.”

I try to turn around so I can hug him, but he just keeps me in place, face down on the bed with his face smushed in my back as he cries. His arms wrap around me, though, and it feels good that he seems to be taking some comfort from me even as I feel his body-wracking sobs continue.

“I see it all. Oh god, Red. I see it all.”

FORTY-EIGHT

ISAAK

All the facesI see are wailing.

Our ancestors and theirs, wailing and wailing with their mouths open and screaming. The sinew of their necks stretches while skin falls from their bones. So much violence and sand and dirt and blood, and I see it—I feel it—all at once.

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