Everything, Everything

She wets a dishcloth and wipes down an already clean spot on the counter. “I left Mexico in the middle of the night with nothing. I didn’t think I was going to survive. A lot of people don’t make it, but I left anyway. I left my father and my mother and my sister and my brother.”


She rinses the cloth, continues. “They tried to stop me. They said it wasn’t worth my life, but I said that it was my life, and it was up to me to decide what it was worth. I said I was going to go and either I was going to die or I was going to get a better life.”

Now she rinses the cloth again and wrings it tight. “I tell you, when I left my house that night I never felt more free. Even now, in all the time that I’ve been here, I never felt as free as that night.”

“And you don’t regret it?”

“Of course I regret it. A lot of bad things happened on that trip. And when my mother and father died, I couldn’t go back for the funerals. Rosa doesn’t know anything about where she’s from.” She sighs. “You’re not living if you’re not regretting.”

What am I going to regret? My mind cycles through visions: my mom alone in my white room wondering where everyone she’s ever loved went. My mom alone in a green field staring down at my grave and my dad’s grave and my brother’s grave. My mom dying all alone in that house.

Carla touches my arm and I force all the images ruthlessly from my head. I cannot bear to think about these things. If I do, I won’t be able to live.

“Maybe I won’t get sick,” I whisper.

“That’s right,” she says, and hope spreads through me like a virus.





TTYL





FIRST-TIME FLYER FAQ


Q: What is the best way to relieve earaches caused by changes in cabin pressure?

A: Chewing gum. Also, kissing.


Q: Which is the best seat: window, center, or aisle?

A: Window, definitely. The world is quite a sight from 32,000 feet above it. Note that a window means your traveling companion may then be stuck next to a spectacularly loquacious bore. Kissing (your companion, not the bore) is also effective in this situation.


Q: How many times per hour is cabin air refreshed?

A: Twenty.


Q: How many people can an airline blanket comfortably cover?

A: Two. Be sure to raise the seat arm between you and snuggle as close as possible for maximum coverage.

Q: How is it possible that humans invented something as amazing as an airplane and something as awful as a nuclear bomb?

A: Human beings are mysterious and paradoxical.


Q: Will I encounter turbulence?

A: Yes. Into all lives a little turbulence must fall.





THE CAROUSEL


“I’VE DECIDED BAGGAGE carousels are a perfect metaphor for life,” Olly says from atop the edge of a nonmoving one.

Neither of us has any checked luggage. All I’m carrying is a small backpack with essentials—toothbrush, clean underwear, Lonely Earth Maui guidebook, and The Little Prince. Of course I had to take it with me. I’m going to read it one more time to see how the meaning’s changed.

“When did you decide this?” I ask.

“Just now.” He’s in a crackpot-theory mood, just waiting for me to ask him to elaborate.

“Want to give it some more thought before you regale me?” I ask.

He shakes his head and jumps down right in front of me. “I’d like to begin the regaling now. Please.”

I gesture magnanimously for him to continue.

“You’re born. You get thrown onto this crazy contraption called life that just goes around and around.”

“People are the luggage in this theory?”

“Yes.”

“Go on.”

“Sometimes you fall off prematurely. Sometimes you get so damaged by other pieces of luggage falling on your head that you don’t really function anymore. Sometimes you get lost or forgotten and go around forever and ever.”

“What about the ones that get picked up?”

“They go on to lead unextraordinary lives in a closet somewhere.”

I open and close my mouth a few times, unsure where to begin.

He takes this as agreement. “See? It’s flawless.” His eyes are laughing at me.