Val played doctor, doling out aspirin, making a cool compress for my forehead, and tucking blankets around me on the couch. “I don’t feel good about leaving you,” he said.
“And I don’t feel like having company.”
Val narrowed his eyes and shot me a dark look. “I’m not just company.”
“Don’t be so sensitive.”
Val crossed his arms over his chest. “Solina.”
I could play that game, too. “Val.”
He exhaled and shook his head. “You and Mani might not look a thing alike, but you two sure were made from the same stubborn genes.”
I closed my eyes and relaxed against the pile of pillows. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Good night, Val. Call me in the morning, okay?”
Val grumbled something, and the rustle of his footsteps signaled his approach. His scent, earthy and warm, filled my nose as he leaned toward me. Val’s lips brushed over my forehead, leaving behind a tingle like Tiger Balm. The door clicked softly behind him as he let himself out.
This time my subconscious gave me a reprieve from the usual nightmare. Instead of snarling beasts, my imagination constructed a lovely world of light and warmth.
In my dream, a tendril of sweat trickled from my hairline, down my neck, and traveled the gully of my spine while a tepid breeze blew across my damp skin. Growing up in the south, I developed an affinity for heat and sunlight, a narcotic-like dependence, really. Sunshine is my drug of choice.
Mani merely tolerated the summer and wilted like spring lettuce the moment he stepped out-of-doors. He thrived on snow and blustery winter days. Mani and I grew up in the Appalachian foot hills. We knew about snow, but we knew a lot more about ice, and it was nothing like the Great White North. Alaska had proved Mani’s ideal environment.
I drifted for a long time in the dream, content to idle in hazy comfort, but a distant clatter of hooves called me from my trance. A shadow on the horizon grew as it neared and took on shape and color. A familiar man—someone whose name I should have known—stood at the helm of a chariot, clutching the reins in his fists. As he approached, he called out to me: “Hurry, Sol. We must run or he will catch you.”
When the chariot was almost upon me, the driver tugged on the reins and ordered the horses to a halt. The horses’ muscles flexed, their sides bulged, and they heaved explosive breaths as they struggled to stop their forward momentum. Their delicate golden hooves stabbed the ground, fighting for traction. The driver leaned down and threw his hand out to me. “Come with me.”
“Who’s chasing us?” I asked, looking around for signs of a predator.
He stretched closer, urgency radiating from him. “Please, we must go.”
I took his hand, and he pulled me into the chariot beside him. He flicked the reins, and the horses strained against their harness. We leapt forward, racing faster and faster until the world dropped away beneath us. We roared across the expanse of outer space, and Earth and the moon spun as the axis of our orbit.
And then I woke up.
Chapter Seven
Nisha Hemmings had offered to show me the places in town that might take some of Mani’s things, and I planned to ask her to uphold that offer if she had the time to spare. Her puffy eyes and rumpled pajamas hinted she had been asleep when I first knocked on her door, but when I told her why I’d come, she smiled and bounced on her toes. “Just let me throw something on,” she said before meeting me a few minutes later in the parking lot.
Nisha helped me load several boxes and garbage bags into the back of Mani’s 4Runner, and then she pointed the way toward our first stop. I fiddled with the stereo system, pushing buttons to turn off the radio and bring up the CD player. Stevie Ray Vaughn’s guitar twanged over the speakers, and I realized the last thing Mani had listened to was “Say What!” A bubble of grief stuck in my throat. The strangest and smallest things extracted the strongest emotional responses.
Nisha must have sensed my distress; she sat quietly in the passenger seat until we approached an intersection. “Take a right here,” she said. “It’s about a block down. You’ll have to pull into the parking lot in the back.” I followed her directions, and she pointed out the consignment shop.
“Thanks for coming with me,” I said after I found my voice again.
“It’s no biggie. I was just going to sit around in my PJs, eat some Captain Crunch, and play video games until it was time to go to work.”
Nisha helped me lug in boxes of jeans, sweaters, suits, and coats. After we carried in the last load, the stylish saleslady came over to greet us. “Oooh,” she said and clasped her hands together over her heart. Her eyes widened as she surveyed our abundant offering. “What did you bring me?” She reached in a box, pulled out a heavy parka, and turned it around, inspecting it for wear and tear.
I explained the situation, and she patted my hand. “I understand, move out and move on. Did you want to consign them or sell them flat out? You might get more if you consign them, but I think you probably want to just be finished with it.”
“I’m not really here for the money,” I said. “I just want to get rid of a few things.”
“Don’t say that,” Nisha hissed, and she tugged me aside, out of the sales clerk’s hearing.
“Say what?”
“Don’t say you don’t need the money. You’ve got to wheel and deal in these places.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I have the energy for all of that.”
“Well, I do. Leave it to me. You go sit, or shop, or whatever. I’ll go through this stuff and get you the best price.”
After successful sales at the consignment store and a nearby used-book dealer who drooled over Mani’s music collection, I treated Nisha to lunch and then dropped her off at her apartment.
“You’re not coming in?” she asked when I pulled to the curb instead of stopping in a parking place.
“No, I started on a project yesterday I need to finish.”
“Well, call me if you need more help or want to hang out.”
“Thanks, Nisha. I’ll see you later.”
“Later!” Nisha twiddled her fingers at me before jogging to her apartment. Before I pulled away, I noticed a familiar pair of amber eyes peering at me from the stairwell beyond Nisha’s apartment. The hairs pricked on the back of my neck. Why had Mani ever thought of befriending such a creature?
