What A Year

Her, Guadalupe's pov

The first thing that comes to me as I’m waking up is the soft bed beneath me.

Then—a quiet humming coming from the right.

The air smells like wet grass.

My throat is dry like a desert.

I don’t open my eyes, and yet I can see where I am.

A hospital room?

The scent of the air is coming from a man sitting in the only chair here.

An uneasy feeling festers inside as I try to recall some memory of him.

As my breathing increases, a new sound comes from the machine and the man opens his eyes.

I slowly do the same.

His eyes—light brown—seem to swim with emotion.

Why?

“Hi,” he says, walking over to me as I sit up.

Then, a pull on my heart— but not because of him, I can tell that much.

Or was it?

When I look into his eyes, nothing jumps at me.

“Do you know where you are?” he asks.

I look around again, just so I didn’t have to see his sadness. “A hospital?”

He sits at the edge of the bed, facing me. “Yes, and do you know who I am?”

I tilt my head, hoping to find something in this empty brain as I examine him.

“No. I don’t know who you are—but,” I look down at my hands, away from his intense stare. “I don’t know who I am either. There’s nothing,” I whisper.

He stands and turns. “Is there anything you do remember?”

Closing my eyes, I push through thick fog. And then, “I only remember hearing Guadalupe. Am I Guadalupe?”

He nods before sitting back down.

Part of me wants to go to him—comfort him—but, something deep inside says I can’t.

As I run my fingers through my hair, memories suddenly rush forward, of me and him.

Moments or memories of us, together. They feel familiar, but wrong.

Not sure how I got these images, I picture myself walking up to a door and turning a key.

The flood stops.

How do I even know how to do that?

As I’m about to ask a question, a petite woman walks in speaking to someone.

When she turns and sees me, she freezes.

She’s not breathing. Does she know she’s not breathing?

He closes the door and taps her shoulder and she comes to life.

“Do you remember anything?” she demands.

I stare back at her and shake my head.

Who is she?

She also feels familiar.

“I think I’ll go down and check on Lola while you two talk.”

He looks back to me, but I have no words for him.

I don’t know him.

“Victor, please be careful,” she calls out as he leaves.

Victor.

The name rouses something, but it’s fleeting.

Strangely, being alone with her isn’t bad. “And who are you?” I finally ask.

Her brown eyes flash violet—just for a second.

At that same moment, something presses against my mind.

“I’m your mom, Tonya.” She says with a big smile that softens her features.

She then points to her head, “And that was me trying to read your memories.”

My memories?

I swing my legs over the bed— a feat in itself now that I feel stiffness in my bones.

Without thinking, I pat the space next to me, inviting her to sit. When she does, I rest my head on her shoulder.

This feels nice.

She sighs and rests her head against mine.

Can I read her memories?

I close my eyes and relax my mind. I picture a flow of light going from her head to mine.

All I get are pictures of a small girl with long dark hair and sparkly green eyes.

Her phone vibrates, breaking our concentration.

After she answers the text I ask my next question. “What happened to me?”

As she’s about to answer, my heart flops in my chest.

Someone knocks.

I reach out to stop her. Whoever is behind that door, the tugging on my heart is for them.

She pats my hand. “It’ll be okay.”

The smell of ocean fills my room when she opens the door.

“Sebastian, what can I do for you?” she asks.

“I know she’s awake, Tonya,” they’re saying. “Can I see her, please?”

The voice, like a warm hug.

She glances at me, her eyes flashing again, then lets them in.

His blue eyes sparkle as we lock gazes and I could swear I felt something click into place.

Why wasn’t he the first person I saw when I woke up?

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you two, Guadalupe. I just had to see for myself that you were truly awake.”

Tonya taps furiously at her phone—clearly unimpressed. “And who told you, Sebastian? I only just found out myself.” She says, too sweetly.

When he says my name, I know it was him I heard earlier.

“Apologies, Tonya. I can’t disclose names, but they are friends of Guadalupe. Again, forgive me, but I only came to steal a few minutes of your time so I could see your eyes. I have to leave, but I’ll be nearby, should you need me.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

My body aches to lean into it—but again, I hold back.

He leaves, taking the salty air with him.

Tonya stares at me. “What was that?” She asks, looking at me confused.

“Who am I?” I look at her hoping to see answers, but I only see a stranger.

Her face softens as she speaks. “Your name is Guadalupe Hope Jimenez. I am Tonya Moreno Jimenez and your father was Jairo Miguel Jimenez. You’re about to turn 19 in a couple of months.” She takes a breath and pity crosses her eyes, “ And as for what happened to you and how you became this way, we don’t know.”

I nod.

I have no idea what else to do.

My father was? Do I even ask? I feel nothing to that news, but obviously I should.

Then, a faint scratch at my brain. I close my eyes and envision myself building a brick wall around me.

When I open my eyes, I’m ready for more questions, “Who are the two boys I saw today?” I try to ask nonchalantly, but who am I kidding.

Do I even know how to do stuff like that?

“Well, the first boy you saw is Victor DelaCruz, your boyfriend.”

I scrunch up my eyebrows in confusion.

“And the other boy is Sebastian Hernandez, your friend.”

Friend?

Again, another pesky scratch in my mind, followed by a subtle click.

They got through.

I close my eyes and envision a small bag in my hand.

I throw it far away from me.

Quickly, I build an even bigger and stronger brick wall around myself—mentally—solid and impenetrable.

“What just happened?” Tonya asks as I open my eyes.

Not ready to share yet, I say, “Just a headache. It’s a lot to process.”

She comes to hug me and I don’t pull away. “I’ll bring you something light to eat.”

When she leaves, I lie back on the bed, letting it all replay.

I have no memories.

I feel something for someone who isn’t mine, and nothing for the one who is.

And now the room is filling with bright lights and a tall woman appears.

Her long hair sways from a breeze I can’t feel.

Her silver eyes bore into me.

But, she doesn’t scare me.

She speaks without moving her lips and yet I still hear her:

“Guadalupe Jimenez, a magical debt has followed you through time and is here to take payment. Who is with you and who will rise at your downfall?”

She fades as Tonya enters the room. “I brought you some soup and pudding. You’ll want to take it easy on your stomach.”

I expect her to say something— anything— about what she just walked into.

“Tomorrow, around lunch, Victor and his uncle will stop by,” she goes on.

I sit up to eat, all too happy to ignore what I just encountered.

But, I do have questions.

“If Victor and I are together, as you say, shouldn’t I remember him? Or at least feel something?”

She stares off at something I can’t see and remains quiet as I devour my food.

Taking my now-empty tray, she finally speaks, “We’ll find all the answers tomorrow—together.”

She tucks me in and kisses me good night.

I drift off to sleep thinking of silver eyes and the rain.