After coming up for air, I front-crawled and flutter-kicked from one end of the pool to the other, pushing against the resistance of the water until I ran out of strength. I pulled myself out of the water on trembling arms, only to find a towel dangled in front of my nose.
“You’re one tough cookie.”
I nearly dropped back into the pool. “Morgan!”
He wrapped the towel around me and rubbed my arms and shoulders vigorously until warmth seeped back into my muscles and bones. Then he lifted a lock of damp hair off my cheek and tucked it behind my ear. “Did I pick a bad time?”
“I’d say your timing’s perfect,” I said.
He led me to a chaise lounge and waited for me to sit down. “I’ll grab another towel. Which room’s yours?”
I pointed out the sliding door I’d left ajar.
With one towel wrapped around me, I was reasonably warm, but when Morgan returned and covered me with another, I felt downright cozy. He frowned at the clouds that blocked the sun before zeroing in on my quivering lips. “Not exactly ideal swimming weather.”
I sank deeper into the padded chaise, enjoying the warmth of my makeshift cocoon. “You’d be surprised at how a little physical discomfort can subdue the mind.”
“Does your mind need subduing?”
The same question coming from Cliff would have carried an undertone of criticism, but Morgan’s tone conveyed interest and concern, which drew a part of me out of hibernation that I’d long thought dead. “What brings you here, Morgan?”
“I’m headed out of town for a few days to follow some leads on my sister . . .”
Footsteps.
I stood so abruptly that my towel hooked onto the chaise and I fell sideways into Morgan. He caught and held me until I’d regained my footing.
“Tony,” I said. “You’re early.”
Dr. Mendez smiled, ignoring my slip of tongue.
Morgan held out his hand. “Morgan van Dyke. Nice to meet you.”
The doctor took Morgan’s hand and met his gaze with the calm non-reaction of a Buddhist monk. “Likewise, I’m Tony Mendez.”
“You said you were heading out of town,” I said, hoping that it wasn’t too late to retrieve the information Morgan had been about to share.
He touched my cheek with the tip of his finger. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Take care of yourself, okay?”
Where was he going? Would he be in danger? I hadn’t yet told him about the doctor, Joshua, and the Voice. “You, too,” I said.
As Morgan walked away, the sun buried itself even deeper beneath the clouds.
“You look like you’ve been caught in a polar vortex,” Dr. Mendez said. “Better get into something warm.”
“I’m sorry for calling you Tony. It just slipped out.”
If his closed-lipped smile was meant to reassure me, it failed. He knew things about me that I’d rather he did not, even if that information might help him delve into my confused ego and id. He reclined onto the patio chair and closed his eyes.
“Be right back,” I said.
On my return, Dr. Mendez was sitting up holding my cat.
“Gabriel!” I said, light-headed with relief. “Where’ve you been? There are coyotes and rattlesnakes out here. You could’ve been killed.”
The doctor’s eyebrows rose. “You have certainly made a lot of friends since your arrival here. When did this one show up?”
“Actually, he hitchhiked from home. He’s my backyard stray, and he doesn’t meow.”
“Then he and Joshua have much in common.”
At my blank stare, the doctor clarified, “They both need a home, they’re both attracted to you, and neither of them speaks.”
Yeah, right. Gabriel had a perfectly good home right outside my room, yet the igloo remained immaculate and unoccupied. And if the past few days were an indication of the cat’s attraction to me, I wasn’t impressed.
“Joshua isn’t progressing well,” Dr. Mendez said. “But I already told you that.” He paused and studied the cat on his lap. “Are you aware that cats are sophisticated communicators?”
“Not this one,” I said.
“Cats communicate through the subtle twitch of an ear and quick switch of the tail, as well as telepathically.”
It was an effort not to roll my eyes. “I assume this relates to your universe as a hologram theory, the interconnectedness of all things and resonating tuning forks? A few weeks ago, I would’ve thought you were crazy, but with all that’s been going on lately, I don’t know what to believe anymore.” I stared at Gabriel. Gabriel stared back—no ear twitch, no switch of tail. If my stray was trying to communicate, our tuning forks weren’t resonating.
“Would you be averse to taking Gabriel along?” the doctor asked. “He may be good for Joshua.”
I shrugged. More chance of the cat’s doing the child some good than of my doing so. “Sure, why not?”
🗲🗲🗲
“Joshua goes to school next door and is currently in the Basilica with Mona, which seems to have a positive effect on him, as I hope you and Gabriel will.”
The doctor’s words did not slow my out-of-control heart. If anything, they accelerated its erratic beat. “Oh.”
“I am not expecting miracles,” he said. “Just be yourself.”
We found Joshua kneeling in front of a statue of Our Lady of Bethlehem, next to which stood an iron frame supporting a multitude of white, flickering candles. “He enjoys lighting votives and praying to Mary,” Dr. Mendez said. “For his parents, I assume.”
Gabriel tensed and twitched his tail before leaping out of my grasp and running to the child’s side. With my arms empty and my mouth open, I was clueless what to do next. I couldn’t call the cat’s name or race after him. We were in a church, for heaven’s sake. Joshua turned and began stroking the cat, and by the time I’d crossed the distance between us, the child was sitting on the floor with Gabriel on his lap.
“Hello, Joshua,” I said, figuring the cat, at least, was doing his job. “I see you’ve met my friend.”
Joshua didn’t respond, unless a blank stare counted as a response.
What happened to the friendly kid I’d met in the doctor’s office, the one who’d given me his treasured mouse totem? And why had he called out “Sunwalker” in his sleep, only to ignore me now?
Dr. Mendez signaled for me to accompany him outside. We took seats around the gurgling fountain until Mona, Joshua, and Gabriel joined us. In an attempt to remind Joshua of our former friendship, I took the mouse totem from my pouch and held it out in my open palm.
The child let go of the cat with one hand to grasp the opal ring dangling from the chain around his neck. Likely prompted by Joshua’s sudden movement, Gabriel leaped to the ground and, in his usual free-spirited manner, padded toward a fenced area next to the Basilica.
“Looks like the cat is headed for the cemetery,” Mona said, and before anyone thought to stop him, Joshua followed.
Dr. Mendez shrugged and I shook my head, wondering yet again at my purpose for being here.
We found Joshua and Gabriel facing a gnarled tree, its base overgrown with ivy. The tree gave off a musty, black pepper smell, which I inhaled as though it were part of some healthful mist therapy.
“Even with such heavy limbs, it still manages to look graceful,” Mona said, “probably due to all the droopy side-branches sprouting all over. Too bad there’s no other marker for the woman buried here.”
“A woman’s buried here?” I asked, thinking maybe I’d misheard.
“It’s probably just local myth,” Mona said. “There’s a plaque commemorating her husband, Manuel Butron, inside the Basilica. He was a Spanish soldier.”
If the woman had been married to a Spanish soldier honored with a plaque inside the Basilica, why was she buried under a tree with no marker? “So, did the wife of this illustrious soldier happen to have a name?” I asked, my anger on her behalf evident in my sarcastic tone.
“Well, of course she did. Margarita Maria Butron.”
“Spanish?” I asked.
“Rumsen, otherwise known as Ohlone/Costanoan. Father Serra encouraged intermarriage between the Spanish soldiers and mission Indians baptized into the Faith. Spanish land grants were sometimes offered as an incentive.”
I looked at the mound of ivy beneath the tree and crossed myself. “God bless you, Margarita Maria Butron.”
Gabriel’s head jerked up, and he regarded me fixedly for several seconds before dashing back the way he’d come.
“I can’t believe this,” I said, summing up the day’s oddness with an eye roll before reseating myself at the courtyard fountain. Joshua sat next to me, and Gabriel resumed his position on the child’s lap. “Traitor,” I said, addressing the cat.
Joshua stroked his new friend behind the ears—and continued to ignore me.
My consciousness wasn’t transcending any boundaries as far as I could tell—no shared states of awareness, no interconnectedness, no fusion of memory. Total blockage. “I’ve never heard Gabriel meow,” I said in a last feeble attempt to capture the child’s attention. “He’s the quietest cat I’ve ever met.”
No response.
“Would you mind if Joshua borrowed your cat for a while?” Dr. Mendez asked.
“He’s not my cat,” I said, which was true, though it felt wrong saying it.
“You told me he was your stray,” the doctor persisted.
Darn that man. If Gabriel preferred Joshua to me, so be it.
“I’m sure Joshua will take good care of him,” Dr. Mendez said.
I shrugged, a gesture embarrassingly indicative of an immature brat.
“I’ve made arrangements for you to visit Joshua at the group home while I’m gone,” Dr. Mendez said. “That is, if you want to.”
The child didn’t need me. If it hadn’t been for Gabriel, this trip would have been a complete waste. I was surprised at how hollow this made me feel. Heck, maybe I needed Joshua, instead of the other way around. He and the cat had done quite a number on me, so subtly that they’d caught me unaware. “I came here to find myself, remember?”
The doctor smiled. “I remember.”