Dealing in Dreams

by Lilliam Rivera

  “Not ready? Get up.”

  She continues to clean. “I won’t fight you, if that’s what you’re expecting. You might not see the connection, but one does exist between us—as much as you want to sever it. No one—not Déesse or your crew—can break our bond. I won’t fight you, and I won’t give up on you.”

  “Stand so I can show you what you’ve missed while you were away. Let me give you my own welcome-home party, the only way I know how.”

  She finally looks up. Her hands cup the salad remains. Those are my eyes. Tired and red. If I stare long enough into those deep brown eyes, I will be taken back to my dreams. I resist. I won’t let these nostalgic tricks stop me from using this knife I now yield.

  “I’m sorry, Nalah. I had no choice,” she says. “I left because I had to.”

  Pathetic lies. This place. These people. Her view and my trembling hands betraying me.

  “Think I’m going to fall? I’m no sucker. Look to your boy Miguel for that.”

  “If you do this, it won’t stop the pain,” Zentrica says. “And you won’t leave here alive.”

  Zentrica suddenly throws the pieces of plate to my face. Within seconds, she twists the hand with the knife and presses hard enough for me to drop it. She yanks my thumb back. I am down on my knees, trying to break free. She let’s go and kicks the knife away.

  Her people come running into the bohio. The only thing I feel is rage.

  Before her crew pulls me away, I see it. The azabache is around her neck. How had I not noticed it before? I yank the azabache off. This medallion will not protect her.

  “Aren’t you happy to have finally met me?” I scream while her crew drags me away.

  I want to thrash. To destroy with my fists. Years of wishing for my sister to return. I was a stupid kid with only resentments propelling me forward. I don’t know what I expected. It definitely wasn’t this.

  The Ashé Ryders make sure when they toss me back into the bohio I land smack on the ground. The door is closed, and I am left sprawled on the floor. My crew doesn’t move to help me. Not a one.

  I brush the dirt off my face. My so-called sisters don’t say a word. What is there to say? Accusations have been made. Sides taken. I stake claim to a cot.

  CHAPTER 19

  LOST ONE

  It is the crack of dawn. An Ashé Ryder stands before me, patiently waiting. I barely slept last night. How could I when my thoughts raced back to Zentrica? I must have finally slept only to be assaulted by my recurring dream. The vision was a nice dose of cruelty to complement meeting her. A vision full of happiness. In the dream Zentrica and I ran in the vast field of wildflowers. She led the way. My hands brushed against the flowers. The sun warmed my cheeks. Zentrica sang the song again, and this time I sang along. The Ashé woke me before I could see more.

  “It’s bath time,” the Ashé Ryder says. “The whole bohio must go together.”

  There is an Ashé Ryder for each LMC. Our very own personal escort.

  “What if I don’t want to?” I ask.

  The Ashé grins. “Everyone takes showers. We are on a schedule. Each bohio has a turn. Afterward, there will be breakfast.”

  Will this schedule always be supervised? To see what the Ashé Ryders are up to will prove difficult with people monitoring my moves. I’ll have to do my best. I’m continuing with Déesse’s order. I’ll leave in a day, enough time to get back to Mega City before Déesse completely writes me off. I keep playing in my head what Zentrica said last night. “The toilers grow more desperate every day, and they’re going to need more to survive.” She’s aiming to liberate them. How and when is what I need to find out.

  I let the other LMCs walk ahead of me. We didn’t say a word to each other last night. I don’t imagine that will change. When Truck and the others want to talk, they huddle away from me. To share a room in complete silence with people I rolled with for years is painful. The first person I wanted to talk to about my encounter with Zentrica was Truck. Now we just ignore each other.

  There is a lot of movement happening this morning. We walk behind an older Ashé who leads a group of young kids. The children are chatty. They go left and enter one of the bohios. Is this their version of a training camp? No. They were carrying books. In Mega City, training camps teach kids what they will need to know to survive. The anatomy of a body. The best places to throw a punch. What can the Ashé Ryders be teaching these kids? To be gardeners? Weak.

  I notice another group of Ashé Ryders gathering in an open space. There are roughly about twenty, a mixture of men and women. The girls are the same ones who captured me. A man stands in front of them. He leads the group into kicking exercises. So this is their Ashé army? More and more people join them. Soon it’s not just young men and women. The elderly and little kids too. A whole community practicing their kicks. Déesse will want to know this.

  We stop in front of a tent. An Ashé shouts for the space to be emptied. A couple of men dry themselves. They exchange jokes with each other. The men seem as if they are on equal standing with the woman. Another mistake the Ashé Ryders are committing.

  “The water needs to be heated again.” A man who looks to be in charge appears. “You know that.”

  The Ashé Ryder nods. I would never let a man talk to me that way. She doesn’t seem to care.

  There are stalls lined with buckets of water. The man sets off the heating devices situated underneath the buckets. After a few minutes, we are made to enter the stalls one by one.

  “Go on,” the old man yells. “It won’t stay hot for long.”

  We are ordered to strip and step into the bucket. This is far from a boydega bath, but still, the hot water feels good. It’s been days.

  I dunk my head and wet my hair before being told to get out. We are handed a cloth to dry ourselves.

  “Your clothes are being washed. You can wear this.”

  My escort holds out a dress. I shake my head. I will not wear their uniform. Never. I would rather walk around naked.

  “No,” I say.

  Truck, Smiley, and Shi follow my lead. They can’t force us to wear their stupid gowns. The escort sighs impatiently.

  “You know better than that. You should have asked them what they preferred first,” the old man yells. “Go to the stockroom and tell Mari to give them options.”

  The man is not yelling at us. He is yelling at our escorts. Shi and Smiley exchange confused looks. I don’t get it. Is this how they treat their prisoners?

  Moments later a girl comes in with stacks of pants and shirts. She hands them to us. A simple rope is used to keep the pants from falling off my slim hips.

  “Mari said not to get used to them. She’s collecting them right back when your clothes are dry.”

  “Everyone out. Baths are closed,” the old man yells. Truck is this close to getting in his face. Truck’s escort glares at her, almost daring her to try it. I wonder how many times Truck has tried to bash her way out of here. She will not follow along. It’s not in her nature. Truck eventually backs down.

  They walk us over to the communal dining area. Large groups are taking to their seats with plates filled with a type of mushy warm food. Women and men serve meals from large pots. I notice how not all of the women are wearing dresses. Some wear pants. They go about their business, not paying much attention to the new visitors. Is this common? Are they always so welcoming to new people? A young boy serves me a plate of food.

  “What is this?” I ask.

  He laughs at the question. “Oatmeal,” he says. “Those are berries.”

  I wait for the others to eat first.

  Zentrica is not around. I notice a few other bohios with Ashé Ryders in front of them. What is behind those doors? Is this where they are storing their weapons? The Ashé Ryders do not walk around with their tronics visible. Their dresses are too long. There are men and women who carry machetes tucked in their belts. Are they weapons or simply tools? They could be both. A machete can’t do as much harm as
a tronic or a sound weapon. Sound weapons are kind of archaic. Nothing beats a good throwdown.

  A bell is rung to get everyone’s attention. The Ashé Ryders stop what they are doing. An older person stands and makes an announcement. I don’t catch what she says. Instead, I get ready to run. This could be it. For all I know the Ashé Ryders may be delivering me to my doom after a nice bowl of oatmeal.

  Then I hear a familiar voice singing.

  Miguel is on an elevated platform. He’s different. He wears a beautiful long dress. His face is made up. His long hair is now parted in three elaborate buns. Red glistening lipstick on his lips. His beauty is breathtaking. I am transfixed by what I’m seeing, unable to look away. I don’t understand.

  “We missed you, Graciela!” someone yells. The Ashé Ryders are beside themselves. They stand and clap as if they have been waiting their entire lives for this very moment.

  He sings and his voice goes beyond what I heard while we were together. This is something else. There is passion and sadness, a depth that touches me so deeply that I too feel mournful. How can it be?

  All the things Miguel told me while we were on this journey come back to me. “You have to abide by rigid rules on what it means to be a man and a woman. There’s no room for fluidity.”

  Miguel is Graciela.

  For once I listen closely to the lyrics of Graciela’s most famous song:

  If I come to you free from absolutes will you shun me.

  If I bare all will you deny what is true?

  El fuego me llama I’m unable to answer.

  El fuego me llama It calls to you.

  The longer she sings the more I feel as if her words are coursing through me. How is it possible for one person to elicit this emotion? Because although she sings to everyone, I’m struck by how much I’m moved. What does it mean to be Graciela and Miguel in Mega City? He said people are trapped in Mega City. This is what he meant. You are a girl, you are a papi, or you are a toiler. Those are the options. Déesse believes in female empowerment. There is no room for ambiguity. And yet, here is Graciela singing a song about her truth.

  She finishes, and the Ashé Ryders clap thunderously. They even wipe away tears. There is a lump in my throat. I don’t know how to process this.

  An older woman places her hand on my shoulder. “Thank you for bringing Graciela back.”

  “I didn’t bring her back. I didn’t know . . .” I stumble over my words, unable to respond. “It was . . . I was with Miguel.”

  “Miguel and Graciela,” she says.

  “That’s the problem with Mega City,” a voice at a table across from us says, chiming in. “They deny what makes people unique and strong. Music is revolutionary. Art is revolutionary. Men, women, and other will lead. Does your leader ever talk about that?”

  The person who says this is a man. Those around him nod their heads in agreement.

  “Labels. Names. Déesse lives to control. Her soldiers are made to emulate her. Graciela was loved for so long because she dared to be free. Have you seen others like Graciela? No. Déesse is desperate to crush them out of the city.”

  “Does she still insist it was her and her family who helped build Mega after the Big Shake?” An elderly Ashé Ryder speaks. “She conveniently forgets the scores of other families. There was once peace in Mega City. It was never about throwdowns. The Codigo Archives no longer feature this history. She erased that period, didn’t she?”

  I shake my head. What they say about Déesse can’t be true. I don’t want to believe. I can’t afford to. I turn to my crew and make eye contact with Truck. I need reassurance but Truck looks right past me. The others continue to eat their oatmeal.

  This guts me.

  I get up. I need to get away from this place. I enter the bohio meant for us. I hate everything. My sister and the Ashé. Miguel and Graciela. The LMCs. Everything and everyone. I was born into this world to fight, to elicit pain. I will not allow these confusing thoughts to trip me. I can’t consider a world where Déesse fails. I don’t have the luxury of being able to reshape who I want to be. “No room for love. No room for empathy,” Miguel said. There are no options. There is only one path for me.

  The chair is easy enough to break. The table as well. Once I start, I can’t stop myself from destroying the inside of the bohio. Even when my fingers bleed from the splinters embedded into my hands, I continue. Where was Zentrica when I needed her? Sheltering Graciela and Miguel? Creating this home while I fought? Where was Zentrica when Mami died?

  A couple of Ashés come to the entrance of the bohio. I throw a chair toward them. They duck before it hits one of them. Soon they are barreling toward me. I wild out, hitting whoever comes near me. I’ll take them all down.

  The Ashé Ryders pile into the room, and it’s hard for me to continue. I’m surrounded, and the Ryders are no longer being timid. They hit, and the punches hurt. I don’t stop. I lash out and make contact with whoever steps to me. There are too many. I can’t keep this up.

  “Get away from her.”

  It’s Truck. Behind her are Shi and Smiley.

  “Leave her.” Truck tries to enter the room. She wrestles with a couple of the Ashé Ryders. Shi and Smiley do the same. Finally, my true sisters share my pain. They try to get in the fray. The Ashé Ryders hold them back.

  I feel less of a human. More an animal. I don’t care. I won’t stop.

  “Hold her down,” an Ashé says. “Don’t harm her. Zentrica’s orders.”

  “Screw Zentrica! Screw the Ashé Ryders.” My voice is hoarse. There is no hope for me. No rehabilitation. I will never be quiet or soft. I will never be Zentrica or Graciela, or Miguel.

  The room is a wave of people. I can’t win against so many. The Ashés tie me down to a cot.

  Soon Zentrica enters. “Everyone leave,” she says. “Leave her alone so she can calm down.”

  My heart hurts. She reminds me of Mami. Stern. How cruel life is to play me this way.

  I try to control my breathing. Zentrica stands before me. Her face looks crestfallen.

  “This won’t work,” Zentrica says. “I can’t have you and the LMCs bringing violence here.”

  “You can’t?” I laugh. “This hate is especially made for you. How do you plan to get to Déesse? You can’t entice toilers out of the city. Our love for our home is too strong.”

  “I feel sorry for you and the LMC because you can’t see past your fists,” she says.

  “Let my crew go or I will destroy every bohio in this place,” I say.

  “You are free to go.”

  “Good. If I see you or the Ashé stepping into Mega City, I will end them.”

  “You can’t stop us, sister,” she says. “It’s already begun. Look closely at your city. Toilers are finding their way out of the camps. They are searching for a new start. Déesse no longer holds the keys to salvation. People are finally seeing how the sueños are meant to keep them complacent.”

  “Untie me, then,” I say. “Do your last sisterly duty.”

  She hovers over me. Her forehead is creased with concern. “I never wanted to leave Mami or you,” she says after a long pause. “I had no choice.”

  “Don’t cry to me with regrets about your choices. I’m good,” I say. “If you are not going to untie me, then get out. I’m sick of listening to your lies.”

  She ignores my request and walks slowly toward the entrance. She doesn’t exit. Instead, she stands there. Her breathing is labored, as if she carries a large weight.

  “Listen to me,” she says. “Mega City has room only for Déesse, her family, and a select few. You will forever be a pet, no better than a dog. The sueños are meant to keep the masses down. You are either addicted to them or you are working to create them. It’s a vicious cycle serving only to keep her in power. Others tried to stop her family. She pushed us out.”

  “Shut up. Déesse took care of me when Mami died,” I say. “Not you. She’s been true to me. More than you ever have.”

 
; “You are important to her only if you keep moving sueños,” she says. “Think about it. Everyone else’s visions of happiness can only serve her. I left because I refused to comply. So did these people here. The sueños she forced on Mami killed her.”

  “That’s not true,” I say.

  “Deep down you know I speak only the truth,” she says. “I’m sorry I left Mami. I don’t go a day without thinking of her. Do you do the same for Papi? That’s an indication of how badly Déesse has brainwashed you and so many others. He’s here, you know. Papi wants to meet you.”

  I shake my head. I don’t want her to continue. I can’t take this anymore. “Shut the hell up.”

  “You don’t remember our last days together. I took you to Cortland Park. It’s no longer open. Déesse had it sealed up. Too many toilers. Back then we could play there for hours,” she continues.

  I want to scream, Please stop. I don’t want to relive this hurt.

  “Mami got really bad. We tried to get her clean. It came to a point where Mami would do anything to get sueños, including betray the people she loved. Mami made a deal to send you to the camp in exchange for more tabs. She was convinced we were the enemy. She told Déesse as much. Papi and I had to leave Mega. Déesse was going to end us. The plan was always to come back for you. We tried. I swear to you we tried. It got harder and harder. When my people inside told me you were this close to entering the Towers, I knew I would lose you forever if I let that happen. We agreed to try one more time. This is the truth.”

  I scream for her to shut up.

  “I’m sorry, Nalah. I am.”

  I can’t stop screaming.

  She soon walks out.

  CHAPTER 20

  BETTER MOVE

  The hours go by and I remain tied to the cot. Zentrica’s words play on repeat in my head. I try to banish them. Burn them. It’s no use. How can she say such things about her own mother? Mami never betrayed us. She was sick. The sueños helped her. It was because of Yamaris she overmedicated. It was an accident. I won’t let her reimagine history.

  My father wants to see me. No. I will never give him the satisfaction. I will never forgive them. He also failed my mother. Their selfishness killed her.