All of Us with Wings

by Michelle Ruiz Keil

  Xochi joined her.

  “Toil and trouble . . .”

  The mist thickened.

  “Fire, burn!”

  Pallas grabbed Xochi’s hand.

  “Cauldron, bubble!”

  Pallas and Xochi fell back onto the soft carpet, momentarily blinded by the sudden return of the sun. When they opened their eyes, the room was empty of steam and wind and birds.

  The green girl and her brother were gone.

  65

  The Queen and the Soldier

  Xochi woke on the sitting room rug. Someone was standing over her.

  Leviticus.

  “Hey,” he said.

  The last time she’d seen him had been in his bed. There was something besides welcome in his face. He held out a hand, but she didn’t take it. She sat up. Someone had covered her, taken off her shoes and socks. Pallas? They’d talked a little before Xochi fell asleep. It was easier that way, side by side on the floor looking at the cherubs on the ceiling. Pallas told her about leaving the house, about her sleepover with Anna and Nora. Xochi told Pallas the kid-friendly version of her time with Gina and Peas. She told her about how they’d called the Waterbabies with their Equinox bathtub potion; that the Waterbabies found Xochi’s lost mother; and that somehow, Peasblossom had been there to help. “Magic is real,” she remembered murmuring to Pallas before drifting off to sleep.

  “Good morning, love.”

  Wait. Io? Xochi stood, too fast. Dizzy, she reached for Leviticus, but he wasn’t there. Io sat on the sofa. Leviticus was settling into the easy chair. The clock said eleven-fifteen. She’d only been asleep a few hours. Pallas’s bedroom door was shut.

  “She’s crashed,” Leviticus said. His eyes told Xochi he wanted her to join them. She sat on the sofa opposite Io.

  “We’re sorry to wake you, but Pal will probably be up soon.” Io’s voice was shaky. She wore an oversized sweater and leggings. In her braided pigtails, she looked like she was Pallas’s age.

  “We wanted to talk before that,” Leviticus said.

  Xochi noted the collective pronoun—the royal we.

  She sat up straighter and forced herself to look at Io. “I’m the offending party, so I guess I should start.”

  “Xochi, no!” Io said gently. “This is our fault.”

  “We put you in an impossible position,” Leviticus said.

  Oh no, Xochi thought. This all just sounds wrong. Almost dirty. She fought the perverse desire to laugh.

  There were dark circles under Leviticus’s eyes. His voice was hoarser than it had been after the concert. “I keep thinking about what you said, about being the hired help and being friends with Pallas? It’s like you got the worst of both. I mean, we pay you. At least we do that much. I had to check with Kiki to be sure. But we’ve left everything else up to a twelve-year-old.”

  “It was selfish,” Io said. “I knew Pallas needed more of me. We gave her you instead. I never thought how it might affect you.”

  “I love taking care of Pallas.” Xochi was suddenly aware of her greasy hair and day-old clothes.

  “I was a mum when I was your age,” Io said, “but that was my choice. You came to us needing a home, not knowing anyone. What real choice did we give you?”

  “It’s okay,” Xochi said, beginning to understand what they were saying.

  Io shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

  “We all are.” Leviticus leaned forward. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back.” He said it like Io wasn’t in the room. He could forget, but Xochi couldn’t.

  “You don’t have to worry,” she said. “I have money saved up. You’ve all been so kind.”

  “Wait,” Leviticus said. “What are you talking about?”

  “All of us did our best.” Xochi stood up. “I should be able to move out tomorrow. Tuesday at the latest. I’m sorry—I need to get some rest. It’s been a crazy couple of days.”

  She bashed her knee on the coffee table as she walked toward her room. So much for a dignified exit. But her mind was pleasantly blank. She recalled the fluffy pink heroin calm. Maybe her body had learned its secrets, was compounding it now along with all the other chemicals that masqueraded as human feeling and thought. The door to her room was a white flag. Her bed was so close. Cool sheets, more white nothingness. Rest and another ending. It was all right. Xochi was getting used to it.

  66

  Lorelei

  Io hated to intrude, but she’d promised Leviticus. She knocked lightly and turned the knob. The room was messy with scattered books and tapes, clothes abandoned in piles on the floor. A teenager’s room, but Xochi was more than that. When Io was seventeen, she had been on her own, raising a baby. Years weren’t the only things that made girls grow up.

  Xochi was lying facedown on her bed. Io sat beside her and instructed her brain to stand down. The situation called for intuition—a quality Io used to think she didn’t possess. It was just the way her apparatus worked—she had difficulty switching to modes outside intellect. It turned out it was the same basic adjustment she used for dance. The steps came too quickly if you processed them intellectually. You had to turn that off and simply surrender to movement in space.

  Io lay back on the bed beside Xochi. The girl scooted over to accommodate her. There was just enough room for two.

  “That went poorly,” Io said. “One misunderstanding after another, according to Lev.”

  “He sent you?”

  “Well, he encouraged me.” Io scooted an inch closer to prevent her leg from falling off the bed. Now her hip touched Xochi’s. “I meant to apologize, not sack you.”

  “You don’t have to apologize.”

  “I do,” Io said. “The governess business was my fault. Pallas came to us with this romantic idea and we indulged her. The correct thing was to offer you our hospitality, not put you to work. Every one of us has brought home a friend or two—it’s how we got Bubbles and Aaron and Pad. If I was in your shoes, I’d be hurt and confused.” Io waited for her words to settle. She hated to be rushed herself. When Xochi finally spoke, it was muffled.

  “I saw my mom today.”

  Her mother? Io hadn’t heard a scrap of that story, but Xochi’s tone was telling. The rest was inferred by an orphanhood Io could recognize because she shared it.

  “How long had it been?”

  “Six years.” Xochi rolled onto her side, her back to Io. “She was here in the city all along.”

  “It’s such a small world,” Io said. “A strange, unpredictable little world.”

  “Yeah,” Xochi said.

  “Would you like to talk about it?” Io offered the question as a civility. She wished more people would. They often assumed that if you’d shared one thing, you wanted to spill your guts.

  Xochi turned to face her. “Sometime, yes. But not today.”

  The girl was profoundly tired. It would be kind to let her rest, but Io knew what she had to do.

  “I have a confession,” she said. She scooted to the end of the bed, resting her back against the footboard. Xochi sat up and handed her a pillow. Her legs were so much longer than Io’s. She was so strong and long limbed and tall. Io rolled her eyes at herself. Would she ever grow past envying other women? “I saw you,” Io said. “The other morning. You and Leviticus.”

  “Oh.” Xochi looked slightly ill.

  “I don’t know why I went to his room.” Io’s forehead wrinkled, a telegram from her body to slow down, be sure to explain. “I’ve never slept there myself, by the way. He wanted me to, but I couldn’t. I’ve felt guilty about it for so long—but for me, with him, something was always missing in that department. Until recently, I had no idea what it was.”

  “Recently?”

  “Not that it’s an excuse,” Io said. “But it is part of the reason for governess-gate.”

 
; Xochi giggled. Io laughed and continued.

  “I’ve been terribly distracted. I’d forgotten how destabilizing a new romance can be. I don’t see how people manage it.”

  “I was thinking the same thing the other day.” Xochi’s cheeks went red. Io could feel herself blushing, too. Any reference to James had that effect.

  “The funny thing is, I’m quite taken with someone myself, but I was incredibly jealous seeing you there with Lev.”

  Xochi exhaled, seeming to gather her calm. That’s what it was about Xochi that made her seem older—her ability to think before she spoke.

  “If it helps, we didn’t do anything but sleep. To be totally honest, I would have, but he turned me down.”

  “Business as usual there, I see.”

  Xochi’s face told Io she’d done it again—assumed context where none existed.

  “You know the Beatles’ song ‘It’s Getting Better’? There’s this horrific line about how he beats his woman and keeps her apart from the things that she loves.”

  “Really?”

  “I know—such an upbeat song, too. But there it is, right in the liner notes. That’s Lev in a nutshell. Not that he beats his women—god, no. What I mean is, Leviticus does that to himself. He keeps himself apart from the things he wants most. He’s terrified of you.”

  “But why?” Xochi said. “I’m just the hired help.” She smiled, but there was a challenge in her voice.

  “You’re awfully feisty for someone who came home with her tail between her legs.” Io grinned. This girl was a good egg. She’d be very good for Leviticus. The question was, would Lev be good for her? Now that Io knew, the entire household could discuss it freely. The consensus was worry—Xochi was young enough to take on Lev’s problems and troubled enough to welcome the distraction. They’d all been there before, especially Io herself. Still, there was a sweetness between them. If only she were a bit older . . . and not Pallas’s governess.

  “I guess I should confess, too,” Xochi said. “Just now I made it sound like we’d never done anything, but we have. Not sex, but just about.”

  “Was it nice?”

  “You people are insane. You know that, right?”

  “Well aware,” Io said. She picked at the fine brown hairs stuck to her sweater. “Oh dear. I may have gotten your bed all horsey.”

  “You went horseback riding?”

  “At the crack of dawn. Kiki’s been after me.” Io had finally agreed as a way to distract herself from the urge to extract Pallas from Nora’s.

  “How was it?”

  “Lovely.” Today’s horse was a bay mare, bossy but fair. Once she realized Io meant business, she was a dream. “I used to ride,” she said. An understatement, but factual.

  “Leviticus told me. Was it hard to go back?”

  “It’s like I left that part of me by the side of the road for years, but there she was with her thumb out, waiting to be picked back up.”

  Xochi smiled, but something had shifted. Her expression turned inward. She pulled her knees to her chest.

  “What is it?” Io asked.

  “I was being a drama queen in there, but I think I may have been right.”

  “About?”

  “Moving out. I think I have to.” Xochi sat crossed-legged now, eyes begging for understanding.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Your hitchhiking thing—it made me think. That’s how I got here, you know? Hitching up Highway 101. I got a ride from this college girl and her friend. I remember sitting there, crammed in her back seat with all their stuff. For hours, all I could feel was relief. But when we passed through that rainbow tunnel and I saw the Golden Gate Bridge—I saw this image of myself. Living with roommates, going to school. Since moving in here at Eris Gardens, I kind of forgot about all that.”

  “Xochi, you know we all adore you—”

  The girl’s expression changed. “No offense, but you guys barely know me.”

  “Nonsense,” Io said. “We knew what you were about from the second Pallas brought you home. I’m sure there are tons of things I’ve failed to teach her, but at least she can recognize a kindred spirit when she meets one. You’re family now. Whether you live here or not, you’re stuck with us.”

  67

  This Must Be the Place (Naïve Melody)

  Xochi showered and hunted through her clothes, pushing aside jeans and T-shirts until she found the loose dress she and Pallas had scored in a free box on the street. “Thirties rayon,” Pallas said. “I can’t believe someone’s throwing it out.”

  Xochi pulled it over her head, the thin fabric settling around her tired muscles. She combed her hair in front of the mirror. She touched her throat, bare without Loretta’s necklace. She put on a pair of striped socks and went to the sitting room for her boots, but left them where they were. She wasn’t going anywhere. At least not before breakfast.

  Leviticus sat at the kitchen table reading the paper, glasses askew. His arms were around her before she could speak. She let herself rest, head on his shoulder. He smelled like coffee. He’d been smoking. With her socked feet planted on the floor, the soft flannel of his shirt on her cheek, Xochi made herself stay, heart hammering against his, wondering what would happen if either of them moved an inch.

  The back door slammed open and shut. They separated quickly.

  “Give it up, old man.” Pad popped his head into the kitchen door, holding it open for Kiki. “We saw you through the window.”

  “Good morning,” Kiki said, depositing a grocery bag on the counter. “Well, afternoon, but who’s counting?”

  “Good morning,” Io said, coming in from the hall. “Lev, would you like some help? I can crack the eggs or something—”

  “Step away from the refrigerator,” Kiki said, washing her hands. “No one likes shells in their pancakes.”

  “Fine,” Io said. “I’ll need tea, then. With cream, please, since I’m so hopeless.” She sat beside Xochi and leaned close to her ear. “That was a secret, by the way. My . . . situation. The love stuff. Not ready for prime time.”

  “Got it.”

  Leviticus shot them a look. Xochi smiled. He probably thought they were talking about him.

  “What are you two whispering about?” Pad asked.

  “Just me,” Xochi said.

  “What about you?”

  “That I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Kiki sat down next to Pad. Side by side, they looked like the world’s most attractive concerned parents.

  “For listening to Justine. For scaring you guys. I hate how I worried everyone. But mostly, I’m sorry for hurting Pallas.”

  Bubbles came into the room yawning. “Xochi! You’re back!” She came straight in for a hug. “I missed you,” she said. “Where’d you go?”

  Aaron followed Bubbles into the kitchen, shirtless and crusty eyed, wearing cutoff Spider-Man pajama bottoms and wool hiking socks.

  “Let’s see your PJs.” Kiki motioned Aaron over to her side of the table.

  “I won ’em in a bet with my little brother. They were too short, so I chopped them.”

  “Next time, let me.” Kiki frowned at the uneven edges.

  “Is there coffee?” Bubbles moaned, laying her head on the table. “I’m dying here, Lev.”

  “It’s coming.” Leviticus set a large mug in front of Xochi.

  “Why does she get hers first?” Aaron nudged Xochi’s foot under the table.

  “You know.” Bubbles rolled her eyes at Xochi and motioned toward Leviticus.

  Aaron yawned. “She’s cuter than me, but I’ve known you longer, man. Doesn’t friendship mean anything?”

  “It’s ladies first,” Kiki said. “Some people have manners.”

  “Plus, he fancies her,” Pad added.

  “Pad!” Bubbles reached acro
ss Kiki to pinch him.

  “Don’t be like the governess.” Pad rubbed his arm. “She’s vicious, really,” he complained to Leviticus. “Don’t know what you see in her, man. I like my women sweet.”

  “Ha!” Kiki got up as the kettle began to whistle. “We all know that’s not true.”

  “I have one word for you, dude,” Aaron said. “Justine. There’s nothing sweet about that. I don’t care how hot she is, that chick is diabolical. I heard what she did to Xochi.” Pad’s face fell.

  “No!” Xochi said. “Pad, it’s not your fault. I should have known better. I mean, I kind of did know. I did it anyway.”

  “So did I,” Pad reached across the table to pat Xochi’s hand.

  “We’ve all done things like that,” Bubbles said.

  “We have.” Leviticus set down Io’s tea and a coffee for Bubbles.

  “Things like what?”

  Xochi froze. Pallas walked into the kitchen. Xochi remembered their talk about the sleepover, the blanket, her shoes lined up under the chair. Maybe Pallas didn’t hate her?

  “Good morning, love. Welcome home.” Io rose to hug Pallas, who was wearing jeans under a short, modish green dress. She also had on her cat hat and carried a small plaid suitcase.

  “Going somewhere?” Leviticus’s voice held no hint of challenge or alarm. He was probably great at poker, too.

  “Yes, actually,” Pallas said. “And since you’re all here, I might as well tell you. I’ve had an epiphany. I’ve already talked it over with Ky just now.”

  “And?” Io asked. “Would you like to sit down?”

  “No, thank you.” Had Pallas gotten taller? “I just wanted to say that Xochi has been the best governess ever. I’ve learned so much the last few months.” Pallas paused. Xochi could see this was hard for her, no matter what she might pretend. “But I realized something. I’m turning thirteen next month.”

  “Dude,” Aaron said. “Really?” His confused face took on the same expression as the mask tattooed on his chest. Pallas and Xochi found each other’s eyes in an instant. It was an inside joke of theirs, the way the mask seemed to take on Aaron’s expressions. Xochi managed to stifle a giggle, but Pallas couldn’t contain hers.