“So now when I (Moth) think of summer 

I don’t think of Southern sweet tea rotting my teeth, 

or staying with Grandfather for two weeks, 

or bikinis & cheap beer smuggled in too-large purses. 

[…] I think of candy bars breaking in half.”

Moth uses metaphoric associations to underscore The Enduring Nature of Grief. In the past, Moth associated the summer season with happy, nostalgic things like “sweet tea,” her grandfather, “bikinis,” and “cheap beer”—associations that capture her adolescence and youth. Ever since the accident two summers prior, the summer season reminds Moth of the crash which killed her parents and brother. The shift underscores the intensity of Moth’s sorrow and inability to engage with life since losing her family.

“I used to feel tied to the music of the city, even walked to the beat. 

But here, I don’t dance anymore. I don’t move. 

I just sit & think 

of drifting away… 

away… 

away…”

Moth’s dormant dance practice reflects The Enduring Nature of Grief. In the past, dance was a natural part of Moth’s life and identity. She “even walked to the beat” of the city, carrying this rhythm, time, and innate joy of physical movement inside of her. In the narrative present, she has resorted to sitting, thinking, and imagining “drifting away.” The image of her sitting implies physical immobilization, while the image of her drifting away implies a lack of roots.

“Mr. Hardened Lava Hair frowns at me & blinks. 

Once. Twice. Three times. 

He glances around the bus before shifting off 

his backpack & pointing 

to the open space beside me. 

I nod.”

Moth and Sani’s meeting on the school bus ride home instigates the novel’s theme of Friendship and Love as Pathways to Healing. Moth’s description of this scene underscores her keen eye for detail and the close attention she is paying to Sani. She describes what he looks like and how he moves his face and body, showing that she is attuned to him even before they formally introduce themselves. Their innate connection foreshadows the novel’s climactic revelations about the history of their relationship. The scene also marks a turning point in both of their storylines.

 “I remember the stories, the roots. Not the work—not the dirt. 

Maybe that is why my family is cursed. 

My grandfather was a great conjurer, 

but even the greatest rootworkers 

can’t raise the dead. 

So none of his spells are useful to me.”

Moth’s reflections on her grandfather, his rootwork, and his Hoodoo traditions introduce the novel’s theme of Cultural inheritance as a Form of Self-Recognition. For many years, Moth spent concerted time with her grandfather, where he told her stories and taught her Hoodoo customs. Since his death—and particularly since the accident—Moth has tried to forget these lessons. She has convinced herself that “none of his spells are useful” because the only thing she wants is to bring her family back, and his magic can’t do that. Moth will soon discover that her disconnection from her ancestry is, in fact, estranging her from herself and causing the restlessness in her soul.

“That’s probably why 

she did not die. 

She really knew 

how to live. 

Maybe if I didn’t gorge 

myself on life, 

there would have been some 

left in the car 

for Mom 

& Dad 

& Zachary.”

In a moment of intense guilt over her parents’ and brother’s deaths, Moth imagines what the newspapers must have written about the accident. In her version of the story, she assumes responsibility for the accident and her loved ones’ passings. It is easier for her to believe that Jim, Marcia, and Zachary’s fates were her fault (a punishment for being too hungry for life) than to accept the truth that there is no logic or justice in what happened.

“I can hear his (step)father scream, 

You are going to college for business. I don’t care how sad 

it makes you. 

You won’t be a lazy artist. I won’t pay for that. 

I hear Sani yell, 

I don’t want anything from you. 

Say something, Mom, 

why don’t you ever say something? 

She (Mom) places a pill 

in Sani’s hand.”

In this scene, Moth stands outside of Sani’s house and accidentally overhears a fight between him, his mother, and stepfather—an altercation which reveals the intensely traumatic circumstances of Sani’s homelife. Once Moth gains access to this aspect of Sani’s life, she begins to understand how similar they really are. They are both outsiders, they both lack real guidance, and they both face neglect and abuse at home. The moment underscores the parallels between Sani and Moth, drawing them closer together.

“I wrap us tight on the floor 

in my blanket, 

rocking him back & forth 

not sure how I got here 

with this beautiful, sharp-edged boy 

whose voice is dipped in spirit & dust, 

who smells like rain & dirt. 

& me (Moth) a spark that won’t unlight— 

a spark that wants to be a wildfire— 

to ignite.”

The image of Moth holding and rocking Sani in her blanket on the floor creates an intimate mood. The characters’ body language evokes notions of a mother-to-child dynamic, with Moth playing the role of the comforting maternal figure while Sani is assuming the role of the docile, dependent, and suffering child. This dynamic conveys the rare closeness between the new friends. Further, Moth’s use of descriptive and figurative language underscores her ability to perceive Sani’s true self; diction like “beautiful,” “sharp-edged,” “spirit,” “dust,” “spark,” and “wildfire” captures Sani’s spirited and gentle nature.

“Ready to rewrite our summer, maybe even change 

our creation stories. Ready to un-break cars 

& thumb away bruises. Maybe moving forward 

in this Wrangler will be enough to feel at home 

(somewhere), if only for a moment. 

Maybe moving forward in this car 

will help to fill in Sani’s emptiness.”

As Moth and Sani set out on their road trip from Virginia to New Mexico, Moth is filled with an uncommon feeling of hope and possibility. Ever since the car accident two years prior, she has been afraid of cars and driving—and terrified of engaging with and enjoying life. Here, however, Moth realizes that setting out into the unknown with Sani might offer both of them a new perspective on life and themselves. The hopeful, buoyant, and empathetic passage contributes to Friendship and Love as Pathways to Healing.

“I wish I could be that hungry, 

but ever since the car split in two 

& my stomach sliced open, 

my belly cramps on food. 

It forgets to be a stomach. 

It wants to be a storm.”

Moth’s inability to eat at the diner has multiple narrative and thematic effects. On the one hand, her lack of appetite underscores The Enduring Nature of Grief—she has been afraid to eat since the accident because she is denying herself food as atonement for her family’s death. On the other hand, her inability to eat foreshadows the narrative’s climactic revelation that Moth is a ghost. Since she has already died, she cannot consume food.

“I untwine my fingers from his. 

I can’t dance. 

I can’t be so ravenous 

when it costs so much. 

My heart gallops 

when Sani holds my hand. 

Speeds too fast, 

so I have to let go.”

Moth’s deep, unprecedented connection with Sani complicates her perception of her loss, life, and future. In one sense, being with Sani makes her want to dance again, to enjoy life, and to be hungry for new experiences. In another sense, being with Sani makes her feel guilty for living on after her loved ones are gone. She is caught between these competing desires (to join her family and to go on living) because her grief is unresolved, and she has yet to cross over to the other side.

“Our ‘Summer Song’ 

is a red string lacing 

our tendons together. 

When I smile, he smiles. 

When he frowns, I frown. 

It happens naturally, like magic. 

There is not a particle between us. 

Like we are buried in the same hole.”

Throughout the novel, music acts as a motif for self-expression, storytelling, and intimate sharing. In writing their “Summer Song” together, Moth and Sani are developing a new way of communicating with and relating to each other. Moth compares the song to “a red string lacing them together” and likens it to “magic”—figurative language which implies that music can create connections between the corporeal and spirit worlds.

“Sani says: I don’t think it’s my fault 

my stepfather hates me. 

I don’t think Mom knows 

how to leave anyone again. 

Moth: It’s not your fault, Sani. 

Grandfather says 

some people are just born unbalanced. 

They are just born hateful.”

This scene of dialogue underscores Moth and Sani’s close connection. Sani is opening up to Moth and sharing intimate details from his personal life. He is trying to free himself from guilt, while also expressing his fears of upsetting his family. Moth is able to listen and respond without alienating Sani. She validates his experience and offers him wisdom. Their intimate exchange reiterates Friendship and Love as Pathways to Healing.

“When he chanted to the spirits—thanking them 

for their wisdom 

& knowledge as he poured whiskey into the dry hole he created. 

I wonder if he knew 

that our car would split in two 

& our family would split in two 

& my face would split in two.”

In this memory of her grandfather, Moth shows uncanny insight into the future. The passage foreshadows the novel’s climax, where Moth and Sani learn that Moth died in the accident and that her grandfather arranged for her ghost to meet Sani so she might have guidance from the corporeal to the spirit world. Her references to “spirits,” “wisdom,” and “knowledge” also further the theme of Cultural Inheritance as a Form of Self-Recognition: In remembering her ancestry via memories of her grandfather, Moth is beginning to better understand herself.

“I offer him another story 

where I change time 

& become a giant 

& move the car that split mine in two 

like a tiny chess piece in my fingers, I tell him 

that he can meet my brother, mother & father. 

Sani folds in. You can’t do that, honey. 

You can’t be the giant who moves the car 

& be in the car at the same time.”

In this scene of dialogue between Moth and Sani, Moth retells the story of the accident with a different ending. Although she and Sani are in the habit of sharing myths with each other, this imaginary tale does not satisfy Sani; instead of agreeing that Moth might be “a giant” able to change what happened, he urges her to reconcile with it. Sani is challenging Moth to confront and process the accident even before either of the characters knows the truth.

“According to Sani, there are four worlds 

& in every one I might leave him 

like everyone leaves him. 

In every one his mind is a cluttered attic 

with tiny clouds constantly storming 

& his pills sometimes help the sun poke through.”

Sani’s fear of abandonment resonates with Moth because she lives with similar anxieties. Moth fears that Sani will leave her because she feels abandoned by her parents, brother, and aunt. Sani, meanwhile, fears Moth will leave him because he feels abandoned by his mother and stepfather. The two become increasingly dependent on each other for strength and courage because they don’t know how to navigate life alone—they become one another’s spirit guides.

“I think he is right. 

I have not thought of my scar, like the tip of a whip. 

I have not slathered Vaseline on it to make it glisten less true. 

I have not crammed 

my spirit too small 

to fit in a space 

smaller than my pinky’s tip 

in days 

& days.”

Moth’s cross-country road trip with Sani ushers her towards growth, change, and transformation. Although initially hesitant to brave the unknown in a car, Moth has since discovered that leaving home with her new friend has changed her outlook on her life and herself. She tracks this internal change according to how she has been thinking about her scar—she has not considered it since their departure, and she has thought little of the accident. These are indicators of her gradual healing.

“I find the picture 

of Grandfather & me. 

I put it on top of the feather 

because they seem to go together. 

I’ve dreamed of your face before, 

but your hair was a swarm 

of fluttering moths.”

The picture of Moth and her grandfather reveals her and San’s historical and mystical connection, reflecting Cultural Inheritance as a Form of Self-Recognition. Moth’s grandfather and Sani’s father were friends, and Moth’s grandfather made Sani’s father promise that Moth and Sani would meet and help each other. The reference to Sani’s dream of Moth with hair “of fluttering moths” speaks to the ancient, mystical nature of their bond.

“& Sani plops the clear orbs 

into his mouth (again). 

Every day, twice a day, 

for many days. 

I don’t know what they do—& Sani won’t tell me— 

but they make him different, 

Harder to touch, but his mind 

seems less attic-with-ghost— 

more attic-of-blankness. 

I don’t mind; 

at least when Sani dreams, 

he doesn’t scream.”

Sani’s life with an unspecified mental illness complicates his journey towards self-recognition. In this poem, Moth is observing Sani taking his medicine over the course of several days, while musing on the nature of his condition. Moth doesn’t know what the pills are or why exactly Sani takes them; what she cares about most is that Sani is well. Her point of view offers perspective on Sani’s condition, destigmatizing his condition while emphasizing the importance of his self-care.

“Moth: If you could do anything, what would you do? 

Sani: I’d write songs. 

Slow ones, sad ones, soft ones 

sealed with small kisses for you. 

I’d play my guitar on corners, 

then on stages, then in stadiums. 

I’d grow & live & live 

onstage every night.”

Sani’s imagined future foreshadows the novel’s closing Epilogue poem, which depicts Sani performing “Summer Song” at Madison Square Garden. At this juncture of the novel, however, establishing himself as a musician feels like an impossibility—a silly adolescent dream he might vocalize near a late-night campfire, but ultimately will not pursue. At the same time, his ability to share this dream with Moth implies that he trusts her and implies that Moth will encourage him to follow his heart.

“Moth: Will you keep singing 

Will you keep taking your blue-&-white pills? 

Will you keep taking the clear orb pills 

Your father leaves on the kitchen counter?”

The questions Moth asks Sani about his future and the decisions he will make convey her vested interest in him, invoking Friendship and Love as Pathways to Healing. Moth does not simply like being with Sani. Their connection is more than adolescent flirtation. Rather, Moth wants to see Sani thrive. She wants him to be happy, to follow his dreams, and to do everything possible to stay healthy.

“Sani’s dad whispers: 

Her grandfather 

gave it to me 

a long time ago. 

She feels different 

because this was planned. 

This is Hoodoo work. 

I stare at the photo; flat 

against the oak, 

my gray-bearded grandfather’s 

hand atop my head, smiling— 

making his wrinkles deeper.”

Sani’s dad’s revelation about his connection to Moth’s grandfather acts as the climax of the novel. In this tense, emotional scene, Sani’s dad reveals that Moth is not alive—she has been living as a ghost alongside Sani, and now Sani must help Moth cross over into the spirit world. Sani’s dad is a Diné medicine man and was close friends with Moth’s grandfather, a Hoodoo rootworker. Their relationship—and involvement in Moth and Sani’s relationship—reiterates the theme of Cultural Inheritance as a Form of Self-Recognition.

“I Woke Up Dead 

I Woke Up Dead […]

I can’t understand 

why my chest keeps thinking 

it has to move up & down— 

if I am already 

gone 

gone 

gone.”

In this poem, Moth uses repetition to enact her intense emotional experience upon discovering that she died in the car accident with her family and has been living as a ghost. The use of capitalization and repetition creates a stupefied tone and illustrates Moth’s work to convince herself of this new reality. Although she is distraught, this moment marks an essential turning point in her story as she seeks reconciliation, peace, and healing.

“I need to go 

to the Fifth World— 

the one that only ghosts know— 

[…] So I reach, 

weightless 

& touch 

my grandfather’s outstretched hand 

& Sani lets go of mine 

& I flutter my new dusty wings 

wide, spotted & brilliant. 

& Grandfather tugs me across.”

In this scene, Moth finally transitions from a cocoon into a moth, drifting from the corporeal to the spirit world. Moth has made peace with her fate and the life she has lived. The opening lines of the stanza have a resigned, yet assertive tone: Moth knows what she needs to do now, where she needs to go, and how to do it. The image of her reaching for her grandfather’s hand while letting go of Sani’s underscores Grandfather and Sani as archetypal guides who are leading Moth from one phase to the other.