Sierra Woods - The Resurrectionist

“We were talking about your grandmother and Roberto’s case the other day, weren’t we?” Back on track. That’s where I feel best, with a job in front of me, a purpose and a mission to accomplish, not just drifting around like those in the nebula.

“Is there another resurrectionist who can help you?”

Sadly, no. “Not right now. I know a few, but not well enough to step into this kind of job.” Something occurred to me, though. Something I’ve been doing just to get the events of the day out of my brain is something Sam’s grandmother may have done. I have a computer and the internet, but she had access only to books and papers. I frowned and leaned closer to him across the table. Intent. Assistance might come from the other side in a different form. “Did your grandmother keep any records, any sort of journals, papers, anything about her work? I write some things, keep a journal of sorts, so it clears my brain and records some of what I do in the rituals. She might have done the same thing.” That would be a huge bonus, to have information from such a source. I never know if the internet information is legit.

Sam thought a minute, then frowned. “If she did, I don’t know of any, but my sisters might.”

“She could have had a journal she kept hidden, if, as you say, she was at risk of being accused of witchcraft.” If nothing else, I had to have a little hope.

“That’s true. She had so much stuff though, something like that might have been overlooked. She was a Depression-era survivor, so she never threw anything away.” My grandmother had also survived the Great Depression, and she has a garage full of toilet paper and plastic water jugs. The two things she can’t live without. Oh, and soap, too.

“Would you ask your sisters if they found anything like that?” Desperation led me to ask Sam for such a favor. The weight of it got to me sometimes, even with my jovial outlook on life. Even if his abuela was dead, at least I might connect to her through her writings. Burton might be helpful, but he’s unreliable and difficult to contact. Sam, I know I can count on, no matter what it is. He is a man who keeps his word, keeps promises he makes. I just didn’t know why.

“Sure.” He searched my eyes, and I wondered if they had returned to their normal color. After eating, my need for protein and blood is satisfied, and externally, I look normal again. Hesitating, he reached out and placed his hand over mine. He knows that touching is difficult for me. It isn’t something I can easily control, and I can get sucked into the feelings of the person I’m touching. Occupational hazard. But right then, it was simply nice. “I’ll help you any way I can. Sometimes you seem so lonely in what you do, that it takes so much out of you.”

There was no other way to acknowledge that very astute observation. “I am, and it does.”

Chapter 5

Two days passed and the resurrection order finally came in. We were given the go-ahead to perform the life-swap between Roberto and Filberto. I was a nervous wreck. I wasn’t certain I had what it was going to take to make the swap successful. I had no one except myself and Sam to rely on. I kept dreaming of the movie The Fly, where the scientist tried transporting an animal and it came through inside out. Even for me that’s got a high ick-factor.

Burton was no help. The bastard. Sometimes he just annoyed the hell out of me and took the teenager persona entirely too far. He’s involved in a skateboard competition today and can’t be bothered. Dude. I hope he leaves some skin on the sidewalk.

I was on my own. Again. I should be used to it by now, but sometimes, the times I felt most vulnerable, were the times I needed someone, and there simply was no one except Sam, and he could do only so much.

Details, details, details. Sometimes I thought I was going to get sucked into my phone, ear first, as I made arrangements to have Roberto’s remains thawed and prepared to travel to the hospital. Then all the hoops I had to jump through at the hospital, I felt like a tiger leaping through flaming hoops and getting my tail singed. Having worked in the hospital system, I should have been used to the flak, but it continues to amaze me that any patient walks out of the hospital alive, because so much documentation has to be done first. Oy!

If I had more time, I’d sick my Korean grandmother, Suzie, on them. She’d get some results pretty damned quick. She’s small, but she can be very mean. Maybe that’s where I got some of my enhanced traits from. I’m descended from several mixed cultures, of Anglo, Mexican, East Indian, with a little Korean for extra spice. That’s makes me perfect for this wonderful melting pot city of Albuquerque. Here, no one sticks out because there are so many different cultures mingled together. It’s great. Don’t get me started about the unbelievable variety of food here. If I didn’t take kickboxing three nights a week, I’d have an ass as big as a sports car.

Finally, things were moving in the right direction, and I called Roberto’s parents.

“Now, I know you’re going to want to have the whole family there for the ceremony.” People reacted better to that word than ritual. Too many ghosts and references to the occult regarding the word ritual, even though it’s a bunch of crap. “It would be better if everyone stayed at your house. Just you and Julio come to the hospital. Normally, it would be different, but we have to obey the hospital rules while we’re there.”

“Sure, I understand. It will just be us.”

I heard the tears in Juanita’s voice, the questions that she hadn’t asked. This woman’s happiness rested on my shoulders, and disappointing her would be painful to both of us. “Don’t worry,” I said, trying to reassure myself, as well. “Things will turn out the way they’re supposed to.” I hoped that The Dark entity was going to take a powder tonight. The ritual was going to be difficult enough without adding an unknown threat to the scenario. This was so out of my comfort zone, I didn’t really want to think about it.

“My son wasn’t supposed to die.” She burst into tears, and I felt the burn of them on the back of my tongue, but forced them down. I’d shed my tears long ago.

“I know.” I know. Believe me, I know.

After ending the call, I headed out to the parking lot. I had to go home for a while, gather energy, gird my loins and do all the stuff it takes to perform a ritual. The sun was just beginning to head off the edge of the horizon, so I watched for a second or two as the sky turned a deep peach, frosted with magenta hues, as if someone had dragged a spoon through melting sorbet. Lovely. I wish I could breathe those colors inside myself and feel what it’s like to be so alive on the inside that the hues are deep enough for others to see on the outside.

* * *

When I arrived later, there were fifty people in the hallway outside the ICU waiting room. Could no one follow directions? I was surprised security hadn’t tossed out the lot of them.

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