Abel
“What are you thinking about, ?”
Fuck, I can tell he’s trying to be nice, but all Dr. Brown succeeds in doing is making me feel fucking cornered.
“That I can’t breathe in this hell,” I grit out, ready to punch a wall or pick up something and throw it, just so I’m not the broken thing in this suffocating ass room.
Why am I here? I have rights! I didn’t hurt anyone, so why the fuck am I locked up?
He takes his glasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I don’t think you’re so far gone. If I’m being completely honest here, I don’t think you belong here. But being uncooperative, being a person with less than a desirable income gives you…less options. Essentially, being a person without the proper resources or family to vouch for you has landed you here. But I promise you, I will do all I can?—”
My dry chuckle has him stopping. “You can’t even save the people who’ve been here for years.” I gesture toward him with my hand before slapping it back onto my thigh. This motherfucker can’t be serious.
Mamabicho. The word rings loud and clear and from the corner of my eye, I see her, smell her, sense her presence.
I’m losing my fucking grip on reality and Doc over here is wasting my time with empty promises.
He shakes his head. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but this isn’t exactly the place people go to be rehabilitated.” He puts his glasses back on and writes something down in his notebook. “You’re here amongst these people who’ll likely never know freedom again, simply because we had the space for you. But you’re not like them.”
The breath on my neck tells me otherwise and I remind myself as I close my eyes… she isn’t here. She isn’t here and she can’t hurt me anymore.
She isn’t in control. She’s fucking dead and I will spend the rest of my days ignoring her, pretending I don’t see her, so she’ll die in my head, too.
When I open my eyes, Dr. Brown is staring at me, his head slightly tilted and worry sits low in my stomach. I don’t need him knowing about the demon who haunts me.
The very same one who birthed me, raised me, and beat the shit out of me in ways that made it easy for me to breathe once I found her dead.
“How about we take a little field trip, huh?” He leans back in his chair, causing it to squeak and groan under him.
He must see the surprise on my face, my brows raised high, because he laughs.
“I think it’d do us both some good to be around people a little more…settled.” I notice that he doesn’t say “normal,” like he knows nothing about this place could ever be considered that.
And the more he speaks, the less I feel mami’s presence, como una fantasma.
“What? Nurses not keeping you happy with their sparkling personalities?” I joke, swallowing down the weight of missing her and hating her.
Dr. Brown snorts and I don’t know where the fuck this is all coming from but I’m all right with seeing him be a little more relaxed.
“Some of these nurses should be admitted here,” he says, under his breath but I can still hear every word as he stands, his hand holding his tie to his body. Not wearing a tie clip in a place someone could easily grab you by it isn’t a smart choice. But Dr. Brown gives far more book smart than street smart.
I lean more towards the wisdom I picked up en los barrios , especially after mami died. Growing up became my main focus, trying to keep up with bills and feeding myself. But in my boredom, I often leaned towards books over any other sort of entertainment.
It was free.
“You don’t have to sneak out, man,” I remind Dr. Brown as he pokes his head out of the door before stepping out.
“You’re right. I don’t.” He turns back and waves me toward him. “But you do.”
I don’t bother looking around as we head out the door, the good doctor behind me, telling me where to go. I have no idea where we’re headed, but I trust that he wouldn’t jeopardize his position just to get some air with me.
“Turn away, please,” he says once we reach a door that requires a code to enter. With my back now turned to him, I muse over never having been in this area of the building. Silverwing feels tiny most days but today, it feels like a massive maze.
There are no cameras down this way and it’s sequestered like no one uses this area at all. Doors all closed, lights all off.
I hear a beep and when I look back at him, he gestures me to walk through the door with a jerk of his head. We’re walking down a few flights and I’m starting to get a little nervous. Something about a crumb of freedom being offered makes me afraid of the downward spiral back into captivity. I know mami will meet me there.
I figure there’s another code to leave the building, but no. A simple push of the door with the exit sign over it and we’re outside, leaving all of my nerves behind. The sun is beating down on me and I have to shut my eyes, it’s so fucking bright.
It’s even bright there, behind my lids, so I see the flesh shade of my lids until I squeeze my eyes tighter.
I wish for blonde locks and her small smiles.
I want to know what she looks like under the golden sun. Her white-gold strands dancing in the wind.
Fuck, I’m starting to sound pussy-whipped and I didn’t even get any pussy yet. Maybe never.
“You don’t have to keep your eyes closed, ,” I hear Dr. Brown tell me, his words floated over the slight breeze.
His words sound a little strange, like he has something in his mouth. When I open my eyes, I see he’s lighting a cigarette that he holds between his teeth.
“ ?Qué co?o, zángano?” I don’t know what the fuck he’s thinking or if he’s just had a bad day, but my arms are up as I back away. It looks like a cigarette to me but that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.
Ese hombre… I hear the grit in mami ’s voice as she makes herself known. Be careful. Cuidate.
I wish someone had told me the same thing when it came to her.
“Would you like one?” His question is quick, one of his brows raised as he assesses me.
Because one look at my tattoos, the scars on my knuckles, covered in ink, the way I stand with my hands joined in front of me…I’m the guy who knows trouble well enough to know I’m not fucking with it.
But he hands his over and pulls out a new one before I can answer. The scent of it brings me back and the scars on my body feel alight with the memories of how they got there.
Mami didn’t raise me to pick up her habits and I used to hate that she was a smoker. But one drag of the nicotine and I’m teleported back to walking around my senior year of high school with a cigarette in my ear, teachers constantly complaining. To sharing joints and fucking girls anywhere and any time I’d get the chance.
It takes me back to the time I was a real piece of shit.
“I hope you can keep a secret,” Dr. Brown mutters, his eyes on the sky, squinting as he takes another drag of his new cigarette.
I’ve already kept so many of them.
What’s one more?
“You remind me a lot of men I grew up around,” he says on an exhale, smoking puffing out with his words. “I know I don’t look it, but I didn’t always have an easy life.”
“You know men like me?” I ask, my voice raising an octave as I turn to face him. “What do you think you know about men like me?”
Defensiveness has my back straightening as I try to understand this motherfucker.
“I know a lot,” he tells me before taking another drag, gesturing towards me for me to pull from the cigarette he handed me. And I do, reveling in the nicotine that hits the back of my throat like a swift kick. “I know I look like some weird white guy, but it’s men that look like you that gave me all of this.”
One final drag and he drops his cigarette to the ground before grinding it out under his heel.
“Finish that up. I have to get you back before anyone else notices we’re gone.”