Salvador's Flowers

I wiped the tears from my face, my parents’ voices still echoing through my head after they had told me that I wasn’t allowed to attend my dream school. I had the acceptance letter. I knew there was a chance they wouldn’t let me, but I thought that things would be different now that I had graduated from high school. I thought they’d let me go on my own. The thing is, I have no control over my future; they do. They tend to talk about it whenever they think I’m not listening. 

I sat on the floor against the side of my bed, lulling my head back onto the edge of the mattress, more tears forcing their way out. 

“Sal, you’re going to go to the college here in town, work at the shop with me, and take over when I retire, y ya!” My dad had said loudly. 

My mom followed just as loudly with, “Mijito, you’re not going to have the life of some struggling artist on the other side of the country! You’re not going to make a living that way!”      

I don’t know how long I stayed on the floor, but by the time I calmed down and opened my eyes, the moonlight shone through my room. I sniffled, wiping snot and tears from my face, before moving to my bed.     

Then, I noticed the stars. Not actual ones, but glow-in-the-dark ones that my abuelo had put up for me. I don’t have many memories of my abuelo, but the one of the stars has always kept its place in my mind. I was five and justifiably afraid of the dark. My abuelo heard of my fear, and against my parents’ wishes, drove to the dollar store the next day, bought the stars, and stuck them to the ceiling hoping it would help. I remembered my parents arguing with him, demanding that he take them down. Their voices were so strong and full of anger. The walls felt like they were closing in. They believed that I needed to toughen up because I was a big boy and that sleeping in the dark was the only way to face the fear. But my abuelo stayed steadfast in his belief as well. I don’t remember the exact words, as time likes to blur the details, but it was something along these lines     . 

“Yes, he needs to face his fear, but head-on isn’t always the best solution. He needs to see that the dark isn’t scary, and the stars will show him that.”

A smile grew on my face, the memory brightening the night. Details came back as it played in my head as the stars shone through the darkness. I remembered him blocking the ladder, my parents opposite him. I fell asleep after that. People dream of nonsense or super-scary things, but for some reason that night my dream began with feeling grass on my face. 

“What the-” I started, picking up my head, only to see bright sunlight surrounding me. I rubbed my eyes and staggered to my feet. Still crouching slightly, my eyelids flickered before opening to the view of a vast valley, full of orange flowers. 

“You can pick it up if you like.” I heard someone say from behind me. I swirled on my feet, prepared to run, just as a man came into view. He was crouched near the ground, tending to a patch of flowers before him. He had a simple green shirt, brown pants, matching boots, and one of those orange flowers nestled in the crook over his left ear. 

“Th-thanks,” I said. I carefully reached down and broke the stem of a flower, bringing it to my face. 

“It’s a cempasuchil flower,” he explained, keeping his gaze on the flower patch. 

“Oh, it looks familiar.”

“It should. Your abuelo used to have some outside his house.”

My eyes darted to him. “You knew my abuelo?”

“No, but my brother-in-law Lalo knows him. Pretty nice guy from what I’ve heard. He’s also the reason you’re here,” he explained. 

“He is? Why?” I asked. 

“Because he knows what it’s like to follow a dream, and he wanted me to tell you that you need to follow yours,” he said, looking up at me. 

“Wha-what?” I asked, still a bit dumbfounded. The man sighed.

“Your abuelo knows that you want to go to that dream school of yours, and as a favor to Lalo, I said I’d talk to you.”

“And you are?”

“Uh, just call me Xo. But that’s not important. What’s important is your dream, Salvador,” he said, walking over to me. 

“What’s your dream?” 

“Uh, to go to this school on the west coast. M-My parents won’t let me, though.”

“No, that’s not your dream. That’s a path to your dream, but not the destination you have in mind. Tell me, what’s your dream?” he asked again.

“My dream is… to be a writer,” I answered. “That’s my dream. I love writing stories, and that’s what I want to do.” 

Xo smiled at this. 

“Good. You should never give up on it.” He hovered his hand over the petals of the flower in my hand. Once his hand was gone, the petals near the center bud almost looked iridescent. 

“Take this, and no matter how scary it gets following your dream, look at this and remember that there is always light in the dark, like stars in the night sky.” Xo snapped his fingers, and I blinked my eyes, finding myself back on my bed, sunlight pouring in from the window. 

Was it all just a dream?

I was about to get up when I felt a something in my hand. I looked down at my hand, finding the cempasuchil flower still there. I thought about the words Xo had said, and with a new level of courage surging through me, I began searching for a suitcase, ready to follow my dream.