A Universe of Wishes

by A Universe of Wishes (epub)

  The person brushes hair out of their face; their image is just blurred enough that Felix cannot make out any real details. Their identity is protected. “Okay, I’m doing it,” they say, and then the image fades away, and Mirella is still there, looking at Felix with anticipation.

  “It’s that easy,” she explains. “You just sit there and recall the memory you want unmoored. The more detail you can remember, the easier it is for me to grasp it with my magic. Then one quick tug, and that’s it.”

  “That’s it?” Felix says, raising an eyebrow.

  She nods. “It really is exactly as we promise.”

  This is what he wants.

  This is what he needs.

  “Let’s try one,” Mirella says, and she tucks her blond streak behind an ear. “Take a deep breath.”

  He does.

  “Another.”

  He does.

  “Bring it forth, Felix.”

  Arturo stood on his tiptoes. He strained to reach, and Felix could smell…something. A fragrance, floral and earthy, and he knew then that Arturo had found one of those dudes on the corner who could enchant the collar of your shirt with a scent. They yelled at you when you got off the train, told you that “she won’t be able to keep her hands off you, pa,” and it delighted Felix that Arturo had done this, had probably not told them he was doing it for another guy.

  It worked. The smell was heady, intoxicating, and Felix leaned down, rubbed his mouth over Arturo’s neck, took in another whiff. His lips traveled upward, and the fear was gone. Maybe his parents would catch him, but he had wanted this for a long time. It had been five weeks, and he’d only been guilty of wandering hands. But this…this was right.

  He leaned down into Arturo’s lips. They were soft. Tasted sweet, like…peach. Maybe honey. It was his lip balm, and then Felix didn’t know what to do with his tongue. No one taught him that. But he kept his eyes closed, and he pushed closer, and he felt alive….

  Felix opens his eyes, and there’s a shadow before him, but it fades away gently. He sees Mirella, still sitting there, her breaths heaving her chest and shoulders up and down. Rune magic. Again. He thanks her for it.

  “No problem,” she says. “Just part of what I do.”

  He tries to stand, but a wave of dizziness pushes down on his skull. Mirella rises quickly, keeps her hands out. “No, no, take a second,” she says. “This is how it usually feels on your end. Just breathe for a bit.”

  He rubs at his temples. “What’s it like for you?”

  She sits back down. “Depends on the memory. It can be more intense if I’m dealing with deeper trauma. But mostly…I just get vague images, these hazy feelings from the other person.”

  His heart beats furiously in his chest. “What kind of images?” Had she seen everything?

  “Don’t worry,” she says. “We’re bound by confidentiality laws, just like anyone else working in the mental health field.” She smiles again. “Trust me, I’ve seen so much worse. So much weirder.”

  He laughs. “Yeah? Like what?”

  She crinkles up her nose. “Confidentiality, remember?”

  “Ah, right. So…what happens now?”

  “Well, we can move on to a few new locations if you want, but basically? The memory isn’t permanently gone. It’s just no longer triggered by this location. I’ve ‘unmoored’ it from this place. You can still think about it if you want, but this helps make the world a little more livable.”

  “Wow,” he says. “Just like that?”

  She nods at him. “It’s a stopgap, of course, not a full solution. Living day to day is a little easier for those who’ve gone through the treatment. There are high-demand spells that I’ve done for those dealing with more intense trauma, and they can be far more permanent, too.”

  “So…” He pauses, lets another wave pass. “You could do that for me?”

  “For a standard Heartbreak Package?” Mirella shakes her head hard enough that her blond streak comes loose from behind her ear. “No. Too much. And too expensive. I doubt you could afford it.”

  Well, maybe this will be enough, Felix thinks. Maybe I can finally move past this.

  He guides her to the next room, only stumbling once. His energy is slowly returning, and he otherwise feels exactly as he did when he started. It’s hard to tell if this is working when all he can think about is him.

  But he wants to do this.

  He has to do this.

  They stand in the silent kitchen, next to the corny thermometer that Mamá found at a yard sale long ago. There are no numbers on it. It just says TOO HOT or TOO COLD on opposite ends, and Felix hates it because it’s never wrong.

  The memory is already coming to the surface, so he tells Mirella to begin.

  Arturo stuck his hand out. He was a full head shorter than Felix’s papá, but he carried himself as if he towered over everyone in the room. He puffed his chest. His grip must have been firm; Papá’s eyes bulged a little when Arturo squeezed.

  “Nice to meet you,” Papá said. “We’ve been looking forward to meeting the one who’s got Felix all distracted.”

  While Arturo went red in the face—and he looked so cute when he did it, goddamn!—he changed the subject. “What’s that thing on the wall?”

  Mamá swooped in on them, swallowed Arturo in a hug. “I’m so glad you asked,” she said, and Felix groaned. “I found this up by the Ashby BART station. You know all the people selling stuff there on the weekends?”

  “Of course,” Arturo said. “That’s where I got my kicks.” He lifted a foot to show off the Jordans he’d copped from some dude there.

  His mamá beamed. “Sometimes, we do brunch there on Saturday mornings,” she said. “Just hopping from stall to stall.”

  “Yes!” Arturo exclaimed. “My mom used to bring her ube cupcakes to sell there after we moved here from Manila.”

  Ah, thought Felix. He’s going for the immigrant angle. And sure enough, Felix’s parents opened up immediately, and it was over.

  Arturo had said the right thing, and a calmness radiated out of Felix, starting at his chest and spreading through his veins. They liked him. He needed them to like Arturo, and he’d already passed their tests.

  Felix floated.

  He gasps.

  Mirella steadies him, her hand on his back. “Deep breaths again,” she says, her voice low. “Tell me if you’d like a booster at any time.”

  He shakes his head, though he is impressed she knows how to do runework that can change chemical relays to the brain. Where did she learn all this? Felix wonders.

  He breathes out. “There’s one more here,” he says. “That okay?”

  “Sure. If you think you can take it.”

  “I have to,” he says.

  She frowns at him, but they begin.

  It was dark. Middle of the night. Felix could not sleep. He crept into the kitchen, edged open the pantry door, and grabbed a package of Oreos. He floated them the rest of the way to the counter once his two working brain cells were ready for thought, then dug into the packaging. Golden Double Stuf, his favorite.

  He popped one in his mouth. Sugar wouldn’t help him go to sleep, but it gave him comfort, and hopefully it would stop his mind from buzzing. He found himself staring at that damn thermometer. Had he imagined it all? Was he just too sensitive? But Raquel wouldn’t tell him something like that unless it was true….

  He swiped in the air in front of him, and his phone lifted out of the rear pocket of his pajama pants, then dropped down in front of him. He pulled up Arturo’s Twitter page, then went to the Likes tab, just as Raquel had instructed.

  “It’s just weird, that’s all,” she had said before leaving his house that night. “I mean…you guys are together, right? Like, together together?”

  “Two months now,” he had
said.

  “So why is he still doing that?”

  His best friend had never lied to him. Why would she start now?

  Every photo that Arturo had liked was of another boy. Most were of one guy, a quarterback from a high school up in Piedmont. He had liked all his selfies, one just a few hours ago. There were a bunch of selfies from other guys, too, most of them shirtless.

  There were only two likes of anything Felix had posted.

  He closed his phone. He shoved another Oreo in his mouth.

  When he opens his eyes, Mirella is shaking her head back and forth. “Sorry,” she says. “Sometimes, the client comes through more clearly. That was…wow. You’re really angry, aren’t you?”

  He does not respond. It’s too raw.

  He looks back at the thermometer.

  He tries to remember…something.

  What was he angry about again?

  He turns back to Mirella. “There are two more places,” he says. “Can we go to those, too?”

  She scowls for a moment. “I don’t know, Felix.” There is a reluctance around the edges of her words. “Most people do this in multiple sessions. It can be disorienting to keep going, to test your mind and your body this much.”

  “I’ll give you a fat-ass tip,” he says, and he knows he shouldn’t have—he doesn’t have that much money saved up—but he says it anyway.

  She blinks. Then shrugs. “Well, I need the money,” she says. “Let’s go. Off-site?”

  Felix confirms, and Mirella retrieves her cloak from his bedroom. He dons a hoodie in the living room; Mamá and Papá are pretending to read. He bids goodbye to his parents before he and Mirella leave the house, and when they look at him, the pity is still there. Is it working? their gazes appear to ask. Will you be okay?

  He just inclines his head, purses his lips, then leaves.

  They walk to Felix’s school, passing the garbagemen at the end of the sidewalk, who are on the block later than usual. One of them draws a rune in the air as the other uses his powers to lift the garbage bags above the truck. Suddenly, the bag is torn open and the garbage is separated from the recycling, raining down into its respective receptacle. Felix jams his hands into his hoodie, shrinks down, makes himself smaller.

  He knows the worst is coming.

  They dodge the mail delivery as packages and envelopes zip to mail slots and porches, and Mirella clears her throat.

  “You’ll be fine,” she says. “With some time, it’ll be okay.”

  “I guess,” he says. “Everyone tells me that.”

  “Maybe everyone has a point.”

  He fidgets.

  “But they’re all on the other side of it,” he says.

  She grunts. “True.”

  “What makes the pain go away now?”

  She doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and the silence spreads between them until it feels unbearable. But then she speaks.

  “Nothing does.” She twirls her fingers in front of her, and then there’s an image of a man smiling, his hair dark with curls. “He cheated on me. For months.” She whisks it away with a flick of her wrist. “And now I can look at that photo and laugh about it all with my girlfriend. But for a long time, just the thought of him made me want to never wake up again.”

  She nudges Felix with her shoulder. “Feel the pain. And the sadness. And the loss. That’s the only advice I can give.”

  “Thanks,” he mutters, and he means it, even if his tone doesn’t sound like it.

  The school grounds are dark, shadowy, and it looks like another world, not the one Felix is familiar with. Mirella heads toward the front steps, but Felix stops her. “No,” he says. “Out here first.”

  She glances around. “Here? On the…grass?”

  He nods. “It has to be.” Pauses. “For…reasons.”

  They stand across from one another, and they begin.

  Felix rolled his eyes at Raquel. “Te lo dije,” he said, “don’t trust him.”

  She slapped his arm playfully. “Well, look who’s walking by again today,” she said. She gestured behind Felix with her head.

  He tried not to be too conspicuous as he looked, but he made eye contact with Arturo instantly. Shit, he thought, then cast his eyes downward to the grass.

  “Nice Jordans,” someone said.

  He looked up.

  Right into Arturo’s eyes again.

  They were brown, nearly black. Soft. Sparkling.

  He wanted to get lost in them.

  He had.

  “Uh, thanks,” said Felix. “Got ’em from a place in Alameda.”

  “Dope,” said Arturo.

  He walked away.

  Raquel giggled, and she was saying something, but Felix heard none of it. He stared after Arturo and admired the wideness of his shoulders, the way his ass looked in those tight jeans he wore.

  It’s impossible, he told himself. He’s probably straight.

  Felix takes only a few moments to recover, though Mirella gives him another look of concern. He is thankful she says nothing as he leads her around the front of the school to the west side of the main building. They’re outside Mrs. Cho’s science class, and he points in through the window.

  “Is this close enough?”

  She peers in through the filthy glass. “As long as you can see the root of the memory…sure.”

  He can. He knows that he has to cleanse this place or he’ll never be able to concentrate here again.

  They begin.

  Felix tried to ignore it as best as he could. Mrs. Cho hated interruptions, and she hated when people didn’t pay attention. But he felt Raquel tap him on the back again. And again. And again.

  He turned around and gave her a glare he hoped would send the message.

  She held out a folded square of paper.

  Is she serious? Felix thought. Is this elementary school?

  He took it.

  He spun back around.

  He didn’t read it…at first.

  As Mrs. Cho continued to talk about singularities, he ran his fingers over the edges of the paper. He wondered what was inside. Why would Raquel pass him a note when she could just text him?

  He did it as quickly as he could. He drew the shape on his desk with his index finger and then whispered the spell. He flung his hands out, and the silent bubble was there; it would last thirty seconds before anyone was aware that he was using it.

  Tearing at the corners, Felix pulled the paper open.

  He read it.

  Then read it again.

  What the hell?

  The bubble snapped back without a sound. Should he turn around? Should he even look at Arturo? Was this just a joke that one of his homies set him up for?

  Felix tried to pay attention to what the teacher was saying, but the words he’d just read repeated in his head:

  Think you’re cute. Hopefully you think notes passed in class are too.—Arturo. <3

  He couldn’t resist. He turned around.

  Arturo winked.

  Felix was in another world for the rest of class.

  A wave of sadness floods Felix, though he keeps himself upright this time. In his mind, he sees the image of Arturo winking, and then it begins to fade away, and he stares into the classroom. Looks to where Arturo sat that day. Tries to remember.

  It is hollow. Something should be there, but it is not.

  He puts a hand to his chest. Is he leaving a piece of himself behind with each memory?

  “We can stop, Felix,” Mirella says, her voice piercing his thoughts. “This is far more than enough for one session.”

  “No.” He breathes out. “I want to keep going.”

  “I can do another session next week,” she says. “On the house.”

  “N
o,” he repeats. “You need the money.”

  “Not at your expense,” she shoots back.

  He shakes his head. “We keep going.”

  She stops trying to convince him otherwise.

  They wait at the corner across from the school, and Felix floats up a lighted signal with a spell, notifying the bus driver that they need to be picked up. They board and pay, then sit in the middle of the bus without a word exchanged between them. Felix has a lot he wants to say, but he says nothing at all. This next location…it’s going to be the hardest.

  The Night Market is up near Berkeley, nestled in a neighborhood that is just on the edge of Oakland, before the street signs change color from green to brown. It’s tucked in between rows of colorful houses, and the bus lets off right at the entrance. There is already a large crowd milling about, and the sounds of a drum circle clash with the din of voices negotiating. Mirella pulls her cloak tighter against her body as they squeeze through pockets of people.

  “It’s this way,” Felix says.

  He points.

  He leads her to a jeweler, one who enchants her pieces with a magic that pulls light in, that gives her gems a sparkle, no matter how little light there is.

  “Here,” he says.

  Felix can see Mirella trying to hide it, but the pity slips over her face long enough that he catches it. “Oh, Felix,” she says. “You didn’t actually—”

  “Can we just get started?”

  She sighs.

  They begin once more.

  He handed the charm back, though he knew it would look good on the chain that Arturo wore. The jeweler smiled. “Is this for someone special?”

  “Yes,” he said. It was the truth.

  “What makes you hesitate?”

  He wasn’t sure he should answer that truthfully. Could he tell a stranger that he was trying for a gesture of peace, of promise, of reconciliation? He just wanted to believe in the potential of him and Arturo again.

  Instead, he gave her a smile. “Just the cost, that’s all.”

  He did not buy anything.