Page 81 of Dead Set on You
Lupe found Doug on a website. Which possibly accounts for why he arrived ten minutes late, looking like the lone survivor of a postapocalyptic wasteland with his sun-bleached dreadlocks, wool poncho, cowboy boots, and a faded JanSport backpack. He’s singing a country song as he sets candles around my living room while Rafael and Lupe crowd beside an armchair, close enough that I can hear them whispering (or rather, whisper-yelling).
“He doesn’t look like ashaman,” Rafael says, the muscle in his cheek vibrating with frustration. “Where did you find him?”
Lupe, dressed in jean shorts and a Barbie tee, shrugs. “Website. One with reviews.”
“Did Doug score above a point-five?”
“Three-point-five, and most points were knocked off for …odor.” Lupe lowers her voice saying the last part.
Rafael visibly cringes, then curses. “I should have done it myself.”
“Don’t judge a book by its cover, primo.”
Doug pauses, throwing a thumbs-up in their direction. “Good energy, fam,” he says. I can’t help but laugh at his totally inaccurate assessment about what’s happening on this side of my living room.
Rafael scowls at his cousin, but Lupe’s unbothered, watching Doug as he finishes with the candles and lights up incense, coaxing the smoke with his hand.
“You sure that’s allowed in a multi-residential building?” Rafael eyes the candles warily.
Lupe glares at him and tuts. “Allowances are made for religious folks.”
“Religio—” Rafael cuts a gaze up to the ceiling and mutters a string of Spanish. Lupe elbows him in the ribs when Doug looks at them.
“All right, now the incense is burning … and we can get started,” he says.
“How does this work, Doug?” Lupe gestures to the coffee table, where a makeshift shrine has been set up. A photo of me on my first day at Media Lab. My planner. My favorite sneakers. And a vinyl of ABBA’s greatest hits.
Rafael finds my eyes and whispers, “I’m sorry—I didn’t think she’d find some guy on Craigslist.”
“I mean, it could be worse,” I say as Doug scratches at his clumps of hair, which has been chopped to different lengths. “He could be naked.”
Rafael’s frown splits into a small smile. “I’ll make Lupe get him out of here.”
“No, you won’t,” Lupe says without sparing Rafael a glance.
“All right, fam, I will need silence.” Doug’s voice becomes quieter. Incense wafts into the air, and I wonder how long it will be until a smoke alarm goes off. “Come closer.” Doug’s looking at Rafael. The way his jaw twitches tells me he’s moved from level-four my-blood-pressure-is-spiking to level-six someone- get-my-blood-pressure-pills.
Rafael reluctantly inches forward, his eyes connecting with mine. It’s as if time slows, long enough for me to notice the flecks of gold in his dark irises, the fine wrinkles in the corners of his eyes and around his full lips, lips which were only inches from mine last night. I warm at the memory—how he wanted me to promise him a kiss and how utterly and irrefutably I regret not saying yes.
I watch him as he joins Lupe and Doug around the table, feeling thirsty for something I shouldn’t want. Yet I can’t help but wonder … what if I’d said yes? What if after this was all said and done—and we found a way to fix me—I asked for that kiss and it wasn’t a joke? What if I had a chance to answer a question I only started asking?
“So, what’s next? Do we hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya’?” Rafael asks. He earns a belly laugh from Doug.
“You’re a funny man, my man, but there will be no singing,” Doug says. “All I ask is that you keep silent as I attempt to connect with the energy around us and see if I can find hers.”
Energy?Rafael mouths to Lupe, his eyes wide with irritation.
Lupe swats at his shoulder. “Shhhh!”
All eyes are on Doug. He’s lit enough candles to hold a séance, which I suppose would be appropriate. If I were dead.
“Spirit of Evie …” Doug says, his eyes closed and hands crisscrossing over the table. “It is I, Doug, and I ask you to kindly give me a sign that you’re still tied to this place.” The room is quiet. “Don’t be afraid.”
Doug’s lips move, and his face pinches in concentration.
Thump, thump, thump.
The incense makes my headache suddenly intense. A wave of nausea follows.
