I’m sitting in the kitchen, alone at lunch, when I hear something coming from down the hall.
I get up and follow the sound. It’s coming from Tío Ed’s office door.
It’s Xochitl. She’s singing and playing guitar.
I knock.
“Yeah?” she says.
“You should have heard Manny last night. He’s back, Xoch. He’s—”
The door opens. She pokes her head out. “You gotta drop it, T.” Her smile is so big it looks like it’s gonna pop off her face.
“He was hilarious. He was joking and laughing and—”
“I know, T. You should hear him talk when we’re working. But it’s too new, so you can’t go around saying stuff like—”
“He’s a human being again. He’s really—”
“T, I need you to do two things. One: Shut up. And two: Find some wood, and knock on it. Now.”
I knock on wood.
“When stuff is good,” she says, “enjoy the hell out of it. But don’t ever say it, dumb-ass.”
“Okay. I’m not ever gonna say, Thank you for making this all turn out great.”
“Good. Now get outta here.” She closes the door.
I wait till she starts strumming again.
I poke my head back in. “This what you been doing at lunchtime?”
“Good-bye, T.”
“That song sounds great. Whose is it?”
“Love you, T. Get out.”
* * *
It’s before dinner. The coast is clear, so I sneak back into the office.
See, when I was in there earlier, I noticed two things that made me real curious: a GarageBand window on the laptop screen. And a microphone and headphones sitting on the desk.
The headphones are still there. I put them on. I run my finger across the track pad. The window pops right up.
Xochitl would kick my ass for this, but … I press play.
The song starts with slow finger-picked, folk-country guitar. Then her voice.
Thank you, Sal, you got us this far
We needed you, you were a good old car
I’m singing this song ’cause I got to say
I’m so damn sorry we treated you that way …
I’m shaking by the end. My guts are churning. Because her voice. And those lyrics that put me right back in the desert. Back on the road.
I click and drag the track window outta the way. There’s a folder called Road Trip Songs. I click on that. There are more music files. I wanna open them all. I need to hear these songs.
Footsteps tap on the tile hallway.
I click out of the files and reposition the track window in the center of the screen and set the headphones back on the desk.
And I get the hell out, thinking people have to hear that song. Somebody’s gotta hear my sister sing that song.