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Chapter thirty-two

Fool

“ I t is a good thing you have a great deal of money,” Ofelia said, picking her way through the minefield of Rai’s motel room to where he sagged in his tub. “You are going to have to pay a fortune for the water damage this…arrangement…is causing.”

“I will tell them that the check is in the mail,” he said wearily, watching her progress.

“Just as Jack Burton.” Halfway through watching Big Trouble in Little China , he’d realized that one apparently said things were in the mail to indicate that they were not , in fact, in the mail.

He had been wondering at how long it would take for his award from Poppy to arrive, and now it never would.

But it was for the best. He had not earned an award at her hands, for his manliness or anything else.

It was the first time Ofelia had come to see him since he had told her he was not leaving after all.

He’d thought she must have abandoned him in disgust, though she had at least messaged him every day.

But he supposed it must get dull, typing the same insults over and over.

She had thus come to lecture him in person.

He welcomed it. Lectures were better than solitude .

But Ofelia regarded him from the bathroom doorway, unusually silent. He would glare at her, but he was too exhausted.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Tell me I am a fool.”

“Not as much a fool as I had thought,” she replied cryptically. “Might I ask how many humidifiers you have out there?”

“Fifty-three. That is the most I was able to plug in with the power bars I have acquired for the room’s outlets.” He jerked his head toward the closest power bar. “Of course, one outlet is reserved for my phone charger.”

“Of course. Very clever of you, indeed.” She folded her arms. “I have yet to comprehend how moping in this fortress of mildew is going to help you gain the hand of your Poppy.”

That roused him. “I am not moping,” he said fiercely. “I am training!”

Ofelia looked around the room pointedly. “Training for what? You are lounging.”

“At this precise moment, I am recovering,” he said, raising his chin in defiance.

“The recovery period is as important to a training regimen as the workout. Also important are nutrition, hydration, and other factors.” He shrugged.

“Most of which are unimportant to me, of course. But I must at the very least rest and hydrate in between my workouts.”

“Your…workouts.” Her lips pursed in a sardonic smile.

“I will show you.” He rose from the tub, absorbing the water from his jeans as he stepped out onto the tile. “First, I must ensure my clothing is dry. I may not rely on its moisture as a crutch.” He grudgingly added, “Also, I have found the chafing of wet denim unbearable.”

Ofelia followed him out of the bathroom. “You have grown wise indeed.”

He gave a sharp nod of acknowledgment. “Then, I must don the appropriate equipment.” He loaded his largest water bottles into his beer helmet and strapped it to his head, draping the tubing over his shoulder.

“I am not such a fool as you think. This is my safety precaution, to prevent my death should I misjudge my strength.”

She laughed. “You have no idea how much of a fool I think you to be. But I believe I see a spark of wisdom in this. That device is very clever. You have my congratulations—or perhaps condolences.”

“It was a gift from Poppy,” Rai said. “It reminds me that she saw my true self even before she knew my secrets. That she is worthy of my labor.” That her knowledge might lead her to love me someday, he did not say, though he knew Ofelia would not laugh, or if she did it would not be cruel.

He understood her style of friendship now .

“Ah,” Ofelia said, a world of enigma swirling in the word. But Rai did not have time or energy to interpret it. He was deep in his mental preparation for the ordeal ahead.

“And now I begin.” Rai took a final deep breath of the waterlogged air of his room and pulled open the door.

The first blow of the dry heat was always the worst, he had learned—the moment when his skin had to adjust from the blessed damp to a painful tingle as the desert tried to steal the moisture from every inch of his skin at once.

He always had to stop for a moment, lean on the railing of the walkway until he adjusted.

Resist the urge to drink deep from the tube hanging over his shoulder.

But he knew it would pass. And he did not mind the pain, not when he thought of what he would gain from it.

He heard the door close behind him, and a moment later Ofelia appeared at his side. “You are attempting the impossible,” she said quietly.

“‘The impossible exists only until we find a way to make it possible,’” Rai said through gritted teeth. He had not hydrated enough for a full practice session, but this was only a demonstration. “Mike Horn said that.”

“Who is Mike Horn?” She was not looking at him but at the cloudless sky.

“I do not know. But these words motivate me.” There, the worst of the adjustment was over. He straightened and nodded at Ofelia. “Now I walk.”

She fell in at his side as he strode along the walkway, down the stairs, and out into the parking lot. “This cannot be comfortable for you,” she said as they began their circuit around the fenced perimeter of the lot.

“Tony Robbins has said that ‘all growth begins at the end of your comfort zone.’” Rai was beginning to feel weakness in his legs already, but he pressed on.

“I have learned much wisdom from this Tony Robbins. Indeed, I have signed up for a virtual ‘date with destiny’ workshop next week, in which I shall learn to create life according to my terms.” It was getting difficult to speak, and his head swam as he tried to remember the wording on the website.

“I will…‘dive deep into the patterns that are holding me back…ignite my motivation and…build momentum toward the life of my dreams.’”

“Will you, indeed,” Ofelia murmured. It did not sound like a question.

“I do not understand…how one may ignite anything after one dives deep…but I imagine it will all be explained. It is a metaphor,” he added quickly. “I do know that. But it is…not a very good metaphor. He is…mixing his elements.”

“As humans often do. ”

They had reached the most challenging part of his circuit, the side of the parking lot where there was no shade from the relentless afternoon sun, and Rai stopped speaking entirely, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other, letting the pain of the desert’s assault flow through him like a river.

Ofelia seemed to understand his need to concentrate, remaining silent by his side, though he could feel that she was observing him.

He was proud, though, of how well he maintained the strength of his stride, even as he felt he must be dying.

He knew better now. Knew how much he could endure while yet living. Knew, too, that the pain of the desert’s murdering was less than the pain he had caused both Poppy and himself. The pain he had seen in her eyes when she had told him to go.

This pain was only of the body. It was as nothing.

When they reached the foot of the stairs again, he stopped and turned to Ofelia.

“This I have done every day, many times a day. I go around and around, over and over, until I can endure no more and must drink. Then I return to my room, soak in my tub, and prepare to do it again.” He straightened.

The stairs were in shade, and it was slightly less agonizing to speak now.

“When I began, I could only go around twice before I needed to replenish myself. Now, I can make ten circuits. I am building my endurance, my strength.” He did not think Ofelia needed to know that he had only managed ten circuits once, late at night when the sun was down and the heat was slightly less oppressive. The point was, he was improving.

Ofelia was regarding him with a strange light in her eyes. “Amazing,” she said tartly. Yet her expression was not mocking.

“This is step one,” he said fiercely, resisting the urge to drink even though this was not a true training session.

“I will train myself to survive in the desert despite my nature. Poppy was right. I cannot possibly ask her to abandon her mother. It was cruel and heartless of me to even think it. And so, since she cannot leave, I must make myself able to stay.”

“And then? You have said that Poppy does not wish you to speak to her ever again. That she has blocked your phone number and forbidden you to purchase her art. Forgive me if I do not see the point of this training, under those circumstances.”

“She has not technically forbidden me the purchasing,” Rai said. He was beginning to see darkness at the edges of his vision. “But it would hurt her if I were to do so, and so I do not. ”

Ofelia took his arm. “Very well. You have shown me step one of your grand plan. Come upstairs before I must carry you. You may explain your step two where I do not have to watch you wilt.”

He held his head high and did not lean on her support as they walked, but he could not help but shudder in pained relief when the motel room door was shut behind them and the protective plastic drape back in place.

She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Get in your tub,” she said, not unkindly.

“My thanks.”

Once he was lying in the water again, the tap turned on to provide a steady flow, he turned back to Ofelia.

She had shifted the humidifiers around to allow her to place the room’s single chair in the bathroom doorway, then sat there watching him silently for long enough he began to feel self-conscious.

“So,” she said finally. “Step two?”