Dvorak: An Interactive Adventure

Chapter 22

Carissa woke up the next morning to the smell of burritos. She dragged herself out of bed and made her way through the apartment. “Morning,” she muttered in English, knowing that her mother would get after her. There were times when her mother expected her to use Spanish only in the house, as a way of keeping tradition alive.

But surprisingly her mother didn’t give her grief about it today. “Buenos días, mija. Do you want to help me bake?”

Carissa always liked making food with her mother. Her mother would tell her stories of her parents and the land they came from so long ago while they mixed ingredients like their ancestors had done. But Carissa was strangely silent today, and her mother noticed. “Are you all right, mija?” she asked.

She nodded. “Just stressed out. Tell me again about the chickens Abuela used to catch.” And while she heard a story that she could certainly recite by heart, she zoned out and thought to herself.

Did God have anything to do with this? Sure, she went to Mass like every other good girl did, but that didn’t mean she necessarily believed everything. Her mother was devout, but her father let her do what she wanted. And she wasn’t a bad girl. She never stole and she did what her parents told her, and she never had any issues with people. She didn’t even really hang out with guys...unless you counted Mac, whom, despite him being ridiculously white, her mother seemed to approve of.

So while she didn’t see herself as a sinner, she didn’t see herself as a saint either. Except that she was being treated as such by these mysterious people in QWERTY, who wanted to have her find this Bible because it had a clue in it as to where this all powerful Dvorak person was. And if she found Dvorak, then they could get Peter back and fix this whole problem. The question she really had was: why her? If God was listening and not just a tradition, then what was His plan?

“Mama always says it’s not so simple,” she thought to herself as they finished the burritos.

Carissa’s mother let her go to the corner store to get some soda pop, and together they watched her mother’s favorite telenovelas. Carissa didn’t usually watch them -- they were more Isabel’s cup of tea -- but if she was doing it with her mother, then it was worth it. After normal school hours, she went to go call Mac -- but instead, he called her first.

“Do you want to meet up at the Saint Arbucks in Midtown?” he asked. “The safe one that Isabel found for us, near the library. Only if you’re allowed.”

Carissa checked with her mother, and it was fine as long as she took her phone with her and checked in often. Carissa agreed, and took the 1 train down to Times Square without any issues. Mac was in the Saint Arbucks waiting in the back, at a table, when she arrived. When she got closer, she could see there was something else waiting for her: a chai.

“Been a while!” she said as she took it from the table and, sitting down, sipped it.

“I just got a normal one, nothing special,” Mac said. “I should have asked you if you wanted it a particular way. I think you like yours with extra espresso in it.”

“Oh, no, this is fine,” Carissa said, suddenly flustered. She took another sip of chai to try and calm down her nerves. “As I said...been a while.”

“It has,” Mac said, which didn’t calm Carissa down at all. She wound her legs around her chair and leaned her arms on the table, suddenly realizing that there was much less space at this table than she had anticipated. Which also meant that if she leaned forward any more, she would quite be in Mac’s personal space. It was somewhere she wasn’t sure she wanted to be yet.

“So,” she said, now that she had her chai, “why did you call me out here?”

“Do I have to have a reason?” Mac asked. “I just figured you’d want to get out of your apartment after a long day there. I mean, I was bored all day, but then again, I was at school...”