Miracles on Miracles

Chapter 6

"Hyung, did you tell KQ about Carmen and me?" Yunho charged.

"I did not," Hongjoong replied calmly. "I'm not going to say, 'I told you so', but I have every right to," he continued. "What did you think was going to happen? You made no attempt to even hide it and now you're pissed that they found out."

"They didn't just find out, they fired her," Yunho corrected.

"Damn," Hongjoong whispered. "Despite the fact that I tried to warn you, I actually am sorry to be right. I didn't want to be right about this," he admitted.

"Thanks, man, I appreciate your support, even if it doesn't change anything," Yunho replied. "I have to go talk to her before she leaves," he said glumly. "This is a real curveball in our relationship," he admitted. "I don't know what's going to happen to us."

"Yeah," Hongjoong agreed.

Yunho left Hongjoong's hotel room and walked down the hall to Carmen's room. He hung his head solemnly. He wasn't even sure how to face her after he had pretty much discounted her concerns this whole time. She had advised caution and he had not heeded her, and now, she was the one who was going to pay the consequences, not him.

He knocked softly on her door. She opened it, and he saw that her mascara was smudged from crying.

"God, I'm sorry," he whispered as he took her in his arms. "It's my fault for not being more careful. I was cocky and I thought we were invincible," he admitted.

"Well, there's that, but that's not even the worst of it," Carmen replied. "I just got a call from my grandmother. She said my grandpa is mostly bedridden now, and she needs me to help her take care of him. She can't roll him in bed and all that," she explained. "So, basically, I lost my job. I might be losing my grandpa. And I'm probably losing you," she lamented. "My mom was right that tragedies come in threes."

"That last one is not true," Yunho argued. "You haven't lost me," he assured her. "Even if we have to be apart for a while, we can survive this."

"Yeah, I don't think so," Carmen sighed. "Let's just end it here," she said.

"Wait, are you breaking up with me?" Yunho asked, incredulously.

Carmen threw herself dramatically onto a pile of clothes on the bed. "I don't know," she said. "It's not that I want to break up. It's just that I can't see how this can work out when you are traveling all over the world and being hit on by a million girls," she explained. "Plus, I'm going to be on death-vigil for God only knows how long," she added as she began to sob into her berry-colored dress with the smocked top.

"Maybe he'll come out of it," Yunho encouraged.

"Come out of it?!" she yelled. "You don't 'come out' of COPD. You get worse and worse until you die!" she shot back. "Also, it's freaking Mexico! People die there all the time, and half of them never even knew what they had. The medical system is shit! So, when I say my grandpa's dying, I mean my grandpa is fucking dying!" she said before collapsing into sobs again.

Yunho was at a loss. He had never seen Carmen like this before. He had met her when she was on top of the world. Her life had just taken a precipitous fall and her spirits had tumbled down with it.

"I don't know what to say," Yunho admitted.

"Don't say anything at all," Carmen advised. So, instead of speaking, Yunho crawled onto the bed beside her and held her from behind. He stroked her wavy brown hair as she cried. Each new wracking sob stabbed his heart. It was true what he'd always heard about it being worse to watch someone you love suffer than to suffer yourself. But to his credit, he did not leave her side. He stayed and followed her advice to say absolutely nothing.

The next morning, Yunho saw her to the airport in Guatemala City where they were scheduled to perform that night. If nothing else, at least it was a blessing that she was close to Mexico and wouldn't have to endure a long flight. He was only able to walk her to the security line where he had to leave her.

"You'll be in my thoughts and prayers," he told her as he drew her into his arms. Typically, a statement like that would have been of little comfort, but she knew that Yunho actually was a devout Catholic and would make good on his promise to pray for her. He planted kisses on the top of her head. "Call me when you get there, okay?" Yunho whispered into her hair.

"I will," Carmen replied as she grudgingly pulled away from his embrace and walked toward security. Just before she walked out of sight, she turned and blew Yunho a kiss which he caught with his hand and pressed it to his chest.

The flight from Guatemala to Mexico, D.F. was not terribly long, but from there, she had to take the bus to San Luis Potosí where her grandparents lived. The bus was crowded as usual. She stared down at the "sandwich" they had given her as she boarded. It was two pieces of white bread with one slice of ham and one little pickle that had been impaled by a toothpick. There was no mayo or mustard. It was the saddest excuse for food she had seen in a while. Determining immediately that she had no intention of eating it, she passed her sandwich to the little boy beside her who was traveling with his mother. He had already eaten his own and half of his mother's. The exhausted mother gave Carmen a half smile and then closed her eyes, hoping to somehow block out her son's hyperactivity.

As the boy bounced up and down on his mother's lap, she tried to contain her annoyance. "Párale, o te va a comer el Coco," she threatened. Carmen sighed. The Coco was Mexico's answer to the Boogeyman. No one quite knew what he was, but children across the country were terrified of him. The boy looked wide-eyed at Carmen who simply shook her head reassuringly, letting him know that she didn't believe the Coco was really going to eat him.

After the exhausting trip on the bus, Carmen took a cab to her grandparents' house. She stood at the metal door and banged on it loudly.

"¿Quién?" shouted her grandmother from inside the house.

"Soy yo, Carmencita," Carmen shouted back. She knew that no one in Mexico ever opened the door without knowing who it was.

Carmen could hear Ita shuffling in her chanclas toward the door. When she opened it, she pulled Carmen into her chubby arms. "Por fin llegaste," her grandmother said in relief.

As she walked into the bright-blue-painted house, she didn't smell the typical odor of overripe guayabas. Instead, there was a faint smell of urine mixed with something earthy and heavy. Carmen's heart sank. It was the same smell as the one in the nursing home where she used to volunteer. It was the unmistakable smell of death.

Even the smell had not prepared her for what she would see as she entered her grandparents' bedroom. Her once lively and muscular grandfather was a shell of his former self. His thin body was almost swallowed up by the mattress. He didn't speak, but he made a grunt of recognition as she neared his bedside.

"Ito, ¿cómo estás?" she asked as she stroked his hair out of his eyes. He flipped his hand palm-up and palm-down several times as if to say, "so-so". How like Ito to never want to cause drama, Carmen thought. And so, my dark night of the soul begins, she said to herself, echoing the words of St. John of the Cross.