Song for the Dead (Ada Palomino 2)

I hear him laugh and the bathroom door closes.

I’m suddenly hit with a wave of nausea and exhaustion. I lean back against the pillows and take stock of the room. It looks the same as I remember, but it bugs me that not only I’ve lost some time, but so much happened right before that. I mean, he saved me at the last minute, again, and I had a peek into his psyche and there’s a shitload to unpack here between us. I have a feeling that even though we’re both glad I’m alive and well in this bed, that some stuff is going to come around to kick us in the ass.

He’s taking care of me right now, but I have the feeling I’m going to be the one looking after him. Even just remembering what I saw deep inside him is enough to make me feel hopeless, so I push it out of my head.

Close my eyes.

And let the pill take over.

It took three days to bring me back to normal. That was three days in San Francisco where I actually didn’t see any of San Francisco. I was stuck in the hotel room, Max taking care of me. Which was sweet, even though I sensed part of him was keeping his distance from me. It’s hard to explain, but I feel like since I saw the dark parts of him, he’s putting up a front. Walls. Hiding more than he ever has.

And I get it. I would do the same if someone took a peek inside my head, rifled around in the very basis of my soul, and walked away not happy with what they saw.

I’m still coming to terms with that, too. I don’t want to dwell on it because the feelings become too overwhelming and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to handle what he feels. I mean, my mother died. Horribly. That has scarred me for life in ways I will never ever recover from. I was in a dark place. A very dark place. And then with Jay leaving me, it was like I was booted back into that same spot. I know what the darkness feels like, what it’s like to drift toward the void, to lose all hope, all vision, to feel that there’s no point to even go on.

I have been there.

And, even so, what I felt was just a fraction of what’s been residing in Max. What he’s living with…how is he even alive?

Wait.

I know the answer to that.

So now the two of us are eyeing each other like the other one is about to say something that’s going to pull the rug out and neither of us want to take that first fall.

Neither of us want the other to fall, either.

In other words, things just kind of got fucked up.

But I think I know how to get rid of the tension.

When we throw our luggage into the Super B and gun it out of San Francisco, Max is thinking we’re going to LA for a couple of days.

But I have a better idea. A more fun idea.

“Hey, so, you’ve heard of Coachella right?” I ask.

He gives me a wry look as he brings the car onto the I-5. Big Sur was originally in our plans, but after the windy twisty fogginess of highway 1 and the three days in SF, we decided to go the quicker but boring route south.

“Yes. I’ve heard of Coachella. I wasn’t born under a rock. I’ve been to Coachella. Have you?”

“No. And you probably went before it was cool, which isn’t fair.”

“Life’s not fair.”

“Right. So, there’s this rave party in the desert tonight.”

He gives me an uneasy look. “Uh huh…”

“And I thought it would be fun to go. It’s in Joshua Tree and I’ve always wanted to go there. We could go for a bit and then, like, stay in a yurt or something.”

He laughs. “You? In a yurt?”

“Okay but how about you, at a rave. That’s funny too.”

“Do they even have raves anymore?”

I shrug, looking at the event on my phone. “They are calling it an all-encompassing EDM experience under the desert sky.”

“You were just in the hospital, Ada,” he warns.

“Was I? Because if I call them, they’ll have no record of me.”

“You’re still recovering.”

“I’m fine! I’m healed. And you know it. You told me these injuries aren’t the same as real world shit. And the Vicodin helps.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Come on,” I tell him. “You afraid to get high?”

He shakes his head, biting back a smile. “I’m not getting high, darlin’. Give me some beer and I’ll be happy.”

“Fine. But let’s go. I’ll find us a place to stay in Yucca Valley. It’ll be fun.”

He sighs, palming the steering wheel as we speed south. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”