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“The way you spoke tonight, my heart sings each time I think of it, my brave Benigno.”
But even in illness, staring down death, he was still as majestic and handsome as ever. With a soft smile, he whispered, “Barnacle.”
I tried hopelessly to brand him into my mind. Hopelessly, because, when it came to losing people, the more you tried to make them permanent on the shorelines of your recollection, the more time eroded them away.
“You’ve ruined me for life on land anyway. It’s your fault the world feels like boots that don’t fit. I’d go with you, and it would be the beginning of my life.”
“You would sleep in my arms, and I would kiss you without ever having to come up for air. I would make a hymn of both our names. It would make the most beautiful sound . . .”
I’d dropped my English because Spanish has so many words for declaring love, and I needed to use them all before it was too late. And though his tears were invisible in water, we both wept to the sound of promises whispered like prayers through the glass about a future where time couldn’t chase us, where my heart would beat for him for as long as he wanted it—until the oceans boiled and the rivers dried. Por los siglos de los siglos.
I realized that, just when I thought I’d lost my faith in everything, I believed in my family.
I simply sang to comfort mi amado. To remind him where he was going as soon as the path to his liberation was clear.
This human crowd could never think of him in terms of flesh and blood, thought and feeling. His existence was wrapped in a story they could consume far more easily than the truth of his enslavement. Like every foreigner, Río seemed to become more imaginary in person.
I heard Tití Luz’s voice call from the edge of my memories. Solo es un problema, Benigno. When you don’t have solutions, pretend that you do.
“P-perhaps you d-did not bring me here,” Río whispered, “b-but the C-Currents did.”
“Mr. Río,” she said quietly. “Do you know the Chenab?” “Asikni,” he murmured. The madam’s eyes shone with emotion. “Yes! The river of Heer and Ranjha. East to west, it flows for those whose love must overcome great challenge. Tonight, a tremendous wrong will be righted, and God will reward us all with your safe passage and long life. But you must stay strong. Both of you.”
“When I look at you . . . I see the earthen reefs where I played as a child,” he murmured between strained breaths. “When you hold me . . . I feel the shallows warm around me. I have collected your smiles, your laughter, your songs like precious pearls. When I was alone, I held them close”—his voice caught in his throat—“to guard against my nightmares.”
“And your eyes.” He touched my chin meekly. “Never have I seen such eyes as yours. Dark as the night . . . Kind as your namesake . . .” His voice was quiet, private. “Benigno, eres hermoso. Keep this shell . . . that you might never forget it.”
Río’s soft smile opened a window in my heart to let the light in.
Why did new beginnings feel like the end of everything?
“Like the lagartijos that shed their skin many times before they die, every change strengthens us. But staying soft in here”—she pointed weakly to my chest—“is up to you. When next you shed your skin, you must hold on to the love that lives in you and wants to be free, even if that love is . . . different.”
“San Cristóbal protects . . . all who journey . . . my little Odiseo,” she murmured, her breath turning labored. “Make freedom your destination . . . and you will know what metal you are made of soon enough.”
“S-soy boricua, pa’ que lo sepas. I’m with it, for it, n-never against it,” I croaked. “The company’s my f-family—”
There will always be yanquis calling you a mutt instead of a man.
And even blacksmiths get burned—a weeping red stripe across my palm for daring to be free in a world where freedom was the exclusive province of people nothing like me.
“Mi luna.” He kissed my forehead and covered my wound with a soft hand. “Nunca te abandonaría.”
Llévame, Río, hasta el mar. As if he’d figured out how badly I wanted his kiss to escort me from this world to the next, he wrapped himself around me and brought his lips to mine. Lost in a swirl of copper hair, I felt him take hold of my chin and open my mouth while it was still pressed to his, his tail tightening around my legs.
Though I’d had Río right as the person fate had bonded me to, I’d had everything else wrong. All this time. I’d thought I was bringing him home.
Breathing more freely than I ever have in my life, I take Río’s face between my sandpaper palms as he gazes back with all the wonder of having just witnessed his first miracle. Are you my captor or my savior? I ask.
With Benigno’s voice in my mind and his kiss on my lips, I impart the truth my soul has known since he first sang to me from across the iron bars. Son of Neptune, I answer. I am your harmony.
Invert/inverted
