The Resurrectionist. Sierra Woods
pretty damned quick. She’s small, but she can be very mean. Maybe that’s where I got some of my enhanced traits from. I’m descended from several mixed cultures, of Anglo, Mexican, East Indian, with a little Korean for extra spice. That’s makes me perfect for this wonderful melting pot city of Albuquerque. Here, no one sticks out because there are so many different cultures mingled together. It’s great. Don’t get me started about the unbelievable variety of food here. If I didn’t take kickboxing three nights a week, I’d have an ass as big as a sports car.
Finally, things were moving in the right direction, and I called Roberto’s parents.
“Now, I know you’re going to want to have the whole family there for the ceremony.” People reacted better to that word than ritual. Too many ghosts and references to the occult regarding the word ritual, even though it’s a bunch of crap. “It would be better if everyone stayed at your house. Just you and Julio come to the hospital. Normally, it would be different, but we have to obey the hospital rules while we’re there.”
“Sure, I understand. It will just be us.”
I heard the tears in Juanita’s voice, the questions that she hadn’t asked. This woman’s happiness rested on my shoulders, and disappointing her would be painful to both of us. “Don’t worry,” I said, trying to reassure myself, as well. “Things will turn out the way they’re supposed to.” I hoped that The Dark entity was going to take a powder tonight. The ritual was going to be difficult enough without adding an unknown threat to the scenario. This was so out of my comfort zone, I didn’t really want to think about it.
“My son wasn’t supposed to die.” She burst into tears, and I felt the burn of them on the back of my tongue, but forced them down. I’d shed my tears long ago.
“I know.” I know. Believe me, I know.
After ending the call, I headed out to the parking lot. I had to go home for a while, gather energy, gird my loins and do all the stuff it takes to perform a ritual. The sun was just beginning to head off the edge of the horizon, so I watched for a second or two as the sky turned a deep peach, frosted with magenta hues, as if someone had dragged a spoon through melting sorbet. Lovely. I wish I could breathe those colors inside myself and feel what it’s like to be so alive on the inside that the hues are deep enough for others to see on the outside.
* * *
When I arrived later, there were fifty people in the hallway outside the ICU waiting room. Could no one follow directions? I was surprised security hadn’t tossed out the lot of them.
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