Book 2
Y2K: New beginnings
The Phoenix
It was the last days of the Posada Navideña, a Catholic tradition in Mexico, and the Matachine dancers had been dancing from the moment the morning mass of December 23rd ended to the first mass of Christmas Eve.
The loud, rhythmic banging of drums echoed down the old cobblestone streets of the historic district in Ciudad Juárez. The sun had just risen and highlighted the grand chapels of the Cathedral in the distance—our destination.
Ribbons of all colors of the rainbow flowed and rustled with every stomping movement of hundreds of matachine dancers from all over the state of Chihuahua.
All of them were tired and running on faith and devotion—and I was one among them. We continued, guided by our Monarch, our faith, and the Virgin of Guadalupe.
Throughout the time I spent dancing and at church, I was praying for inner strength and growth. This was giving me time to reflect on myself. My experience of finally opening up with Lilly may have been bittersweet, but it taught me a valuable lesson about being vulnerable and when to withdraw. It taught me what it was to be a friend.
When I wasn't dancing and praying, I was drawing and trying to find inspiration. I wanted to switch between the anime-style pin-ups I've been drawing and try something new, like the creatures in our fantasy role-playing games.
Christmas Day didn't feel as grand as the ones I experienced when I was younger. The divorce and splitting of the families made it awkward and distant, no longer feeling like that family-filled holiday full of love and prosperity.
It's tough when you have to choose between spending time with my mom and her family or my dad and his family during Christmas.
As close as I was to my Grandpa on my dad's side, I chose my dad.
On one of our outings during the break, my family and I went to a local dairy for some fresh Asadero cheese that my grandpa loved. It was the only place to find the best Asadero in town. There was also a private zoo there with plenty of animals you could interact with. From a zebra, to a camel, lots of llamas, and an assortment of all types of birds.
The ones that really caught my eye were the peacocks they had, especially the lone white one.
Its snowy appearance wasn't as colorful and bold as the others, but when the sun of the golden hour shone across its iridescent plumage, it became something mesmerizing to behold. It looked like it was on fire with shimmering tones of gold, orange, and red streaking across its fanned tail feathers.
Witnessing this first-hand made me wonder if this was where the inspiration for the legend of the Phoenix came from.
This was the type of inspiration I have been seeking.
In legends, it is said;
~The Phoenix burns at its end, and from the ashes, rises again.~
And just like the phoenix, I wanted to move on and let go of the old me, let it burn, and be reborn as someone new.
I became obsessed with that creature of legend. So much so that I even designed a small, fractured phoenix that I started to draw on everything. My notebooks, my backpack, I even drew it on the back of my left hand whenever I was bored.
That phoenix became my personal glyph. My symbol.
-----
On New Year's Eve, I was with my dad's family, anticipating any possible outcome.
Was this Y2K thing going to happen and create some kind of irreparable havoc that many people were convinced would happen? Who knows?
Or is this just going to be the start of a new cycle in the infinite orbit of time? Whatever it may be, I was ready for whatever came my way.
The live broadcast from the New Year's celebration in downtown El Paso was playing on my Grandpa's Gigantic TV. During the countdown, they were dropping a glittery Piñata, copying Times Square tradition. I had my eyes shut tight. Every number marked the final moments of the millennium.
3...
2...
1...
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
I waited a bit longer to open my eye just in case of some worldwide blackout or other impending doomsday scenario, but that never happened.
It was just the festive cheering of my dad and his side of the family. They were giving each other hugs and kisses, and of course, what would a New Year's celebration be without popping open the champagne?
I may have helped myself to a cup or three. But hey, if the world was ending, I figured I might as well go out with a buzz. And if it wasn't ending, I was drinking to celebrate.
Damnit. No Y2K Doomsday. This means school is still a go.
Obviously, the school board must have been worried about it, too. Before the Christmas break, the school got a whole bunch of computers that had stickers that read "Y2K READY!" And running Windows 2000 and a few colorful Apple IMacs.
* Sigh*
The only thing left from here is to review my new class schedule. I guess there is one thing to be excited about this semester: no more swimming practice in ungodly hours.
Because the swimming season was only available during the fall semester, I will finally get to sleep in. I even get to hang out at the Island with all the misfits during breakfast.
This also meant all those on the swim team got moved into different P.E. classes. I got Tennis.
I've never played, so this should be interesting.
Following that—
Is this semester's math course (bleh)
Chemistry (could be fun)
Lunch hour (only the best hour)
French (I was feeling exotic)
Sociology
Art
And English 2b.
There's also the dreaded night school later in the semester. I wasn't looking forward to that. It has that same hellish feeling and dread summer school had, only at night.
---
On the first day of the Y2K semester, things went back to the usual morning chaos at home. Mom was on red alert, and everyone was scrambling around. I did not miss that.
Mom dropped me off at school, and it felt foreign to see the campus so lively in the morning. I was almost overwhelmed. All last semester, I had become accustomed to seeing it so vacant before the sun broke light or when class was already in session.
On my way to the courtyard, I spotted Lilly and her crowd at the side of the main entrance. She smirked at me and flipped me off—I did just the same.
That was already making it feel like it was going to be a great day, a great semester.
That January morning was colder than usual, and I noticed something different when I made it to that area in the courtyard that we called the Island.
Where the hell is everyone?
The Island of Misfits was empty. Nobody was at the graffiti-filled table. Nobody was roughhousing or running around. I looked around the courtyard to see anybody familiar, but there was nobody.
The library was nearby, so I decided to check in there as it was very cold. Upon opening the doors, I heard many familiar voices. It was the misfits. The Island had moved indoors for the winter.
A smile stretched from ear to ear. I was excited to see them and felt like things might turn around this year.
But then I saw her.
It was CC sitting on the stairs.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, catching the light like tiny falling stars.
And just like that, the warmth in my chest turned to ice, and the smile quickly faded.
What happened to her?
Why was CC crying?