Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta friend. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta friend. Mostrar todas las entradas

lunes, 23 de marzo de 2015

Out of focus

   Gong was simply the best in her dancing class. She did every routine perfectly, able to combine different kinds of disciplines and styles with modern music. She thought classical music was out of the game now and that dance needed something else to make it more interesting. She was also a gymnast, which made her even better to the eyes of her teacher and more annoying to the eyes of every single one of her classmates. They all knew she actually thought she was a better person only because of her achievements and knowledge and they didn’t try to make her feel welcome.

 The girl didn’t care. She was only fourteen but knew very well how to treat people and how to behave by herself. She had to think she was the best to be the best every single time, in every competition and every class. It got very tiring and pretending something that she wasn’t sure was true was very exhausting. She did not do it in daily life, preferring to relate more to her sister and her parents. But only her father because her mother was all too obsessed with her practicing and winning and it had gotten to be unbearable to be in the same room with her, always criticizing and thinking she was being encouraging but wasn’t.

 Her father wanted all that for her too, but he didn’t as much. He always reminded Gong to have fun and never forget that dance and sports were not about destroying oneself on a mat but about making the art bigger and better. She listened to this and though of it always before any of her presentations. To be honest, the days of fear had passed because she had learned not to care about anyone but her, especially when performing. She just put the world out of focus and did what she had to do.

 Gong loved to use rock songs for her performances. Hip-hop was the kind of music everyone used to seem different and classical with any change was too dull for her. She had won a tournament by performing, all five of her events, with songs by Metallica. It was her who designed every single movement, not needing or asking for any kind of help. She used to have a trainer but she left him as soon as she realized he only pressured her to be the one to gain all the recognition.

 She got rid of him and decided to be dedicated and train everyday at least an hour by herself. Her parents were very supportive and it was all unnoticeable for the media or the judges of the next big event after that. She was praised so much; no one even realized she had no trainer but only her loving parents and her sister. After that particular time, she was asked to be photograph for many famous magazines because she had won a slot on the Olympics, which were going to be celebrated in Rio de Janeiro.

 Practice was intensified. She practiced every morning, from sunrise to lunch. She only had a slight breakfast on a very short break and then kept on going. Her diet had not been consulted with a doctor but her parents read all about them to make every meal appropriate for her. It was dreadful, she knew, especially for them because they had decided to do the diets as well and that proved to be a tough decision as her meals were not really full of flavors and variety.

 It was funny at first when her dad was caught by her mother, eating a cheeseburger in the car. Gong didn’t blame him and told them that she could keep doing it all by herself but they refused and her father apologized to her, although she didn’t really understand why. She just kept focused on her practice and on designing the best possible routines for every single event she was going to be performing in on the Olympic arena.

 The girls was exceedingly happy when her parents came in one morning to her room, after practice, and told her they had bought the tickets and all the hotel arrangements had already being settled. She was going to be staying with the rest of the athletes but they would be close by to check on her and join her on every event. According to the rules, they couldn’t have meals with her on the days she was to be busy but they could go out and get to know the city on the days nothing was happening.

 But Gong noticed something she didn’t like and which made her loose her focus from practicing. Her little sister Zhang, had begun to shut her out. It was very often that she could talk to her and play but now, when she tried, Gong was refused entrance to her room and on dinner Zhang wouldn’t even look at her, preferring to eat fast or at least fake she ate and leave early for her room. Zhang was eleven and had always been Gong’s best friend. She had been very supportive when some of the girls in the dance school or in the gymnastics practice were mean to her but now she was absent.

 And when the date of the trip to Brazil came nearer, she realized the whole time there she was going to think of her sister, trying to see her up there in the seats with her parents. And she didn’t now if she could stand that, not being in right terms with the one person that had always supported her and from which she felt no pressure at all. It was the morning before leaving that her parents told her Zhang was not coming with them. They had decided to leave her with aunt Myrna, who wasn’t really their aunt but her uncle’s wife, who had three kids and a big home.

 Gong was destroyed by the news and, for the first time in all of her life, she refused to practice, to dance, to do any of the things she normally did. She cried and begged Zhang to come out of her room and talk to her. But Zhang was not there. She had left the day before for Myrna’s house and she, the bad sister that she felt, had not even noticed. Her parents almost had to force her to eat, put on her clothes and hop in the car for the ride to the airport. Her trip there was awful and the one on the plane to Brazil was even worse, always thinking of Zhang and feeling worse by the minute.

 When the plane finally landed. Gong insisted on calling her sister. She dialed the number herself and once she her aunt Myrna’s voice, she was relieved to know that Zhang was being very normal and even pleasant around her children. She asked Myrna to pass the phone to Zhang but then Myrna fell silent and it took her a bit to tell Gong that her sister had asked not to be interrupted while playing, especially not by them. She didn’t want to speak to any member of her family and Myrna didn’t want to make her feel worse.

 Almost in a whisper, she told Gong that Zhang was feeling very bad because of the entire trip thing and that she thought her parents had failed by letting her out of everything, clearly putting Gong first and her second. Aunt Myrna asked Gong not to blame them or her sister for anything and just to focus on her events and comeback soon to get things sorted out. She then wished her good luck in Rio. Gong thanked her for her good wishes and her advice and hung up.

 It got a bit better when she met the rest of the group and, the next day, when they did the big parade of nations. She was mesmerized by the thousands of people in the stadium and hoped her sister understood how much she wanted her there right now. The night of the parade, everyone went to bed early because the first week was always the most intense one. Gong had the following three days for practice and then it was time for the first event. Regrettably, time flew by and the moment came for her first performance.

 She did great. With the sound of pop music roaring all over, she focused only on her moves and sharpness and she was surprised to take the first spot among her group. The following day, she was able to move on the semifinals groups and then on the grand finals. All the girls were very talented and she had seen their every move for the last few days. Some of them seemed even stricter with their dancing, almost looking mad every single moment. It was as if they had nothing else on their minds.

 But she did. The final day, somehow, the thought of her sister took over everything and she didn’t even have a proper breakfast because of it. Suddenly she became worried because there was a feeling on her chest, a weird sensation that something felt wrong. Before leaving for the arena, she asked her parents to call her aunt and ask for Zhang. She thought only asking for here would be enough, not to be too pushy. She would have time to talk to her when they got back.

 Her parents went to their seats and she went on to perform beautifully. She had only a few points of advantage over her nearest competitor but it was enough to win the gold medal. She was thrilled when receiving the flowers, the medal and a stuffed mascot. Everyone was taking her picture and she was simply the happiest girl in the world. She would go back home and show the medal to her sister and everything would be ok.


 But it wasn’t. Her parents were nowhere to be found and when she did, she realized something awful had happened. Right enough, Myrna had told them that Zhang had committed suicide overnight. She had taken her to the hospital but here was nothing the doctors could do. When Gong heard this, she just collapsed. Her only friend in the world was gone, on the happiest day of her life.  

jueves, 19 de marzo de 2015

Aegean Cruise

   Maureen Sullivan ran to the railing and held her hat before the wind had a chance to blew it off her head. The city looked gorgeous from there and, as she soon realized, the cruiser had began to move. It was just perfect, feeling the wind on her face, the smell of the salt water and the beautiful city, which began turning on its lights for it was already late in the evening. Maureen stood there for several minutes until she heard the announcement of a special dinner to welcome all the passengers to this journey.

 Maureen then decided to go to her room and change clothes for dinner. When she got to her cabin, she went through her luggage and started hanging some dresses and taking out all the shoes she had. She loved to dress nicely as she hadn’t being able to do so for many years. The thing is that Maureen used to be a nun. Yes. She had her calling at an early age, after being a devoted catholic for all of her childhood. Now, when she thought about it, maybe she had been too young and should’ve thought this more thoroughly.

 She decided to put on a beautiful purple dress with a matching purse and green shoes. For a moment, Maureen thought she was going to look like an upside down eggplant, but then she decided to go for it. So what if people talked? That was better. This fifty two year old woman had not being able to use such rich colors back in the convent, and one of the things she looked forward as she left her former life was the use of many types of clothing and makeup. It seemed shallow but it was understandable after more than thirty years wearing always the same thing, and the same boring shoes.

 She arrived at the dining hall just in time, as every single passenger was making their way into their respective tables. Maureen thanked God she didn’t have to look for a seat but instead only ask one of the waiters where she was supposed to seat. They had electronic screens where they checked it. After receiving directions, Maureen asked the waiter where could she find one of those screens. She was fascinated by the invention.

 A few minutes later she was already siting between a Canadian couple and a lady from Moscow, who was a bit older than her. She started speaking in English to her and, to her surprise; the woman was fluent and very educated, telling her about her life in the Russian capital. Maureen didn’t want her to stop but the show had started on the stage they were facing and it was too good to miss.

 As she watched the dancers, it was almost impossible not to think what would she be doing if she had still being a nun. At this hour of the night, probably sleeping or trying to at least. She used to love knitting and to embroider to calm her nerves, which always seemed restless. The doctor, one that came to the convent once per month to check on all the sisters, had given her some pills to calm that restlessness but she had never taken a single one. Something deep inside told her that she didn’t need that because her impatience, that weird energy inside of her was what she needed to keep on living.

 Maybe it was because of this, or maybe not, but she started to have blood pressure problems just after learning that her mother and father had died. A horrible accident and half her family had disappeared, as if they had never existed. She still had a brother but he never went to the convent to visit her and talk. He had gone to college, got a great job abroad and the last thing she knew was that he had gotten married and had one child. As the dancers finished, she thought how much she would love to meet her nephew.

 Maureen went on talking to the Russian lady and learned that her name was Valentina and that she was actually from Yekaterinburg, a city located in the Ural mountains of central Russia. She told Maureen about the harsh winters when she would stay inside for many days and enjoy lots of sweets because her parents said chocolate helped resist the cold. Valentina also told her about the trips along the river in the spring, when the water was so still and the flowers blossomed all over.

 It was just magic listening to all of Valentina’s stories. She seemed like the kind of woman she would have liked to be: limitless, doing what she liked the most, enjoying her life fully. It isn’t that she had hated the convent or anything. Quite the opposite: she missed the sisterhood that she had left there. If there was something beautiful about being a nun, it was the fact that they took care of each other, every single day. But, nevertheless, she thought she would have liked to enjoy more of life, getting to do more things in life, experience new things.

 That’s why, with the money she had inherited all those years ago, she had decided to take this cruise. She knew that a trip would make her happy beyond anything she had ever known. Because there was one thing she missed the most and that was people. Yes, she did do a lot for many people on the convent but always going back to those four walls, always helping but not really relating. That was her reason for leaving. She argued that God must want more of all of us, not only helping and be good but to be interested for real, to be there for each other. And she didn’t feel that she was doing that so she left to do it on her own.

 But first, she had to do this trip. With Valentina, she toasted with champagne and was surprised at how nice it tasted. She had a couple more glasses and talked with her new friend about both their lives for hours, until the master of ceremonies took the stage to announce it was bedtime. The next day they were docking in Mykons and he advised everyone to have a good rest to enjoy a whole day in such a beautiful island. The two women complied and agreed to meet at the dock the following morning to scout the island and buy souvenirs to bring back home.

 That night, Maureen was sad. She couldn’t sleep wither so she took out a small notebook from her suitcase and a pencil. When she couldn’t sleep now, she would also draw. She was not very good and didn’t do any drawings of what she actually saw. She thought the world was too beautiful as it was to be rendered ugly by her hand. So what Maureen did was drawing things that came up in her mind. She liked to think of them as cartoons although she didn’t think any child would understand them.

 A child… Her nephew… That still hurt her so bad, being cut off from her family like that. She had called her brother after she left the convent. Her idea was to visit him first and them take the cruise but that wasn’t possible. Her brother told her she had decided to be cut off from them for a reason and now that their parents were gone, it didn’t make any sense to fuel a relationship that had been dead for so long. He argued that she had always thought of herself as special because of her devotion and that’s why she got to go away. For her brother, she had always been their parent’s favorite child and he had to live with that until he left the house.

 Maureen knew that, on the phone call, Brian had tried hard not to be rude because it wasn’t in him to be like that. But he stated clearly that he couldn’t just forget all about his past to rekindle a relationship with someone he was sure he didn’t know well. So she would never meet her nephew or at least not very soon. She drew at least three pages until she realized it was past 2 AM. She left her notebook and pencil on the bedside table and forced herself into a restless sleep.

 The following morning, she put on a nice flowery dress and sandals with a white hat and sunglasses to go down the dock and meet Valentina. She had not rested a bit but decided she couldn’t spoil her holiday just because of one bad night. The two women walked together along the beautiful streets and up and down stairs. They separated from the main group fast and explored many shops by themselves. They bought some presents and Valentina asked Maureen why she was taking so few. Maureen answered she was by herself now so it didn’t make any sense to buy many gifts.

 At lunchtime, Valentina decided to stop walking around and invited her new friend for brunch at a nice café overlooking the bay of Mykonos. They had all the entrées, as a way to taste the most of the local food. They had fun asking what it all was and, afterwards, going to the archeological museum were they discussed art and politics. It was fun for Maureen because she had so much in her mind about so many subjects but she had never been able to talk to anyone about it. She had a lot of fun with Valentina and when it was time to get back to the boat, they decided to have a few drinks at the cruise lounge on the top deck.


 When she got back to her cabin, Maureen had also decided to call her brother again. She did so disregarding any special fees. She didn’t care about prices or times. Maureen had to ask for forgiveness and try to get her family back to her because, if there was something to learn about her day with Valentina, it was that people are very important in everyone’s lives because they are the ones that make us feel alive. And who better to share your life with than your own family?

jueves, 5 de marzo de 2015

The Other One

   I just couldn’t confront what I had done. The morning I woke up there, I felt wrong, guilty and even filthy. I wanted to leave that place so fast and never return again. How should I have know that only days later I would have to go back there, practically against my will.

 There was no need to say “goodbye” to him. After all, we didn’t really know each other that well or, at least, that’s what I prefer to think. I never let anyone too close and I have my reasons for that. No, I have no idea who he really is and I’m not interested in finding out more than I already know, more than I have too.

 You see, we were celebrating our promotions with other people of the office. We went to his place because it seemed cheaper to buy some bottles from the store and go there and have a great time. And we did. I hadn’t been that happy for a long time and I fucking deserved that promotion. I had worked hard and so had he and Laura, my best friend there. The three of us had been in charge of a certain project and we had done so great that our boss decided to grant us a very well deserved promotion. We would make more money and we would have nice new offices.

 Almost everyone was happy for us because they knew how hard it had been for us to have the job and then to be good and make such a project a big reality. We were admired and that’s why many people came to Joe’s place. Of course, it was free booze and we ordered some pizzas and I even made some cookies, already a bit tipsy. Lots of cinnamon in them... We had a blast but something that I hadn’t realized happened in a second, in blinking of an eye.

 I had gone to clean my hands after spilling some vodka on the floor and cleaning it. I had been looking at the mirror, any trace of alcohol apparently retreating, when I realized the door was half open and there he was. Joe I mean. He asked me if I was ok and I nodded and told him I was having a great time and that I felt sorry for spilling vodka. He seemed shy or distant, jus strange because he had never really been shy during our work together. And we had stayed up late in the office. He even took me home sometimes.

 But then, in that bathroom, there was a tension only broken by a girl who entered in haste and decided to vomit too close to my shoes. I jumped back just in time to retire from the “splash zone” and decided to rejoin the party, forgetting about my encounter with Joe. Well, until the party ended that is. Laura, her boyfriend and I stayed behind to help Joe clean up the place. When there were only glasses to throw and small things to put in place, Laura and her boyfriend left.

 As I cleaned up with Joe, there was this awful silence. It was even more ominous because there was no sound from the street, being three o’clock of the morning. Not a single soul walked the street below and I started talking to him about that, how empty and lonely the city looked when you stayed up until late. He agreed, saying it was worse in the suburbs, whereas in downtown or other commercial areas people were still roaming around. We talked about different things and decided to have one last drink. We both consumed it fast and, as I recuperated from the strength of the beverage, I realized he had his hands on my waist.

 Needless to say that we kissed and I didn’t resist. I hadn’t had any physical contact of that kind with anyone for years and I wasn’t going to refuse any act of kindness towards my body. Some minutes later we were in his room and we had sex. I was about to say we made love but that’s impossible, because I wasn’t in love with him. As I said before, I barely knew him. What I can say is I had a great time with him in that room because, never mind the alcohol, I can still remember every thing that happened.

 I felt guilty the following morning, very early, because I realized something I had forgotten the night before: Joe was engaged. She worked in the company but in another department. I had seen her a couple of times: stunning body, nice face, very kind and joyful. Joyful is not my kind of thing but it looked good on her. She was a knockout and I had heard many guys in the office had tried to date her prior to Joe but that was long before I had begun my work there.

 My pants were on the floor, my underwear on a chair, my socks in my shoes… Once I had everything on and my cellphone and backpack, I just left trying to be as silent as a mouse. I couldn’t look, for some reason, to the doorman to the face. He greeted me but I felt he knew, somehow. I felt the same thing all the way home, on the bus and on the sidewalk, just walking before finally entering my place, where my cat awaited me because he was very hungry.

 I fed him and decided to sleep properly after that. Sleep came fast and so did dreams in which I met Joe again and kissed him passionately in front of his girlfriend. In the dream, she just accepted it and left without saying a word. I woke up even more tired that I had been at arrival. Thank God it’s Saturday, I thought. I decided to stay in my home and just eat and watch TV. No one interrupted me, except Laura that called me to know if I had gotten home all right. Laura had been my friend of many years and the one that got me the job. I owe honesty to her.

 She was surprised at me but even more surprised at Joe. Everyone knew the news that he was going to marry the gorgeous girl of the office and the fact that Laura reminded me of that was awful. She then questioned Joe harshly, stating that if he was sleeping with others, it surely meant he had done it before with other girlfriends and that he was not “husband” material, despite what everyone thought.

 I let her speak. She didn’t stop for a long time and I didn’t say a word. She’s right about it all. But then I recall the way he touched and kissed me. I have had one-night stands before and I know how they go down. People are just sexual in those moments, like animals. But Joe had not been like that with me. Or so I felt… Maybe I was just trying to think about it in a good light instead of really remembering it for what it was. Maybe I’m just too eager to be the one they stay with instead being the one they sleep with.

After hanging up with Laura, I recalled my history of casual sex and concluded that, without a doubt, there was something unique about this time. I had never stayed behind to sleep, which had been a first. Although the alcohol might have knocked me out before I could even think about leaving. But that wasn’t a fair statement because almost every time I had had casual sex, I had done it with alcohol involved. It was making me crazy, for sure. Thinking about him and about his perfect girlfriend. I decided, for the sake of my mind, to stop thinking about it. Or at least, I tried.

 The next Monday was a nightmare. I felt all eyes on me, even when people were just coming to me to congratulate me about the new job. Even my boss thought I hadn’t liked the new office, my face all sad and dreary. I really tried to fake happiness a bit during lunch but that was a tremendous failure and even Laura was looking at me every time, like checking if I was going to screw up.

The hardest part was meeting Joe in a conference room and talking to him for an hour about our next project. If he had any worries, he was very good at faking them because he looked very relaxed all the time, even laughing, telling some jokes and looking at me directly into my eyes, which felt awful. It was the guilt, for sure, that grew even larger when his girlfriend opened the door at the end of the meeting and kissed him on the lips.

 Suddenly I felt so jealous of her. I hated her right there. I could have put my hand around her neck and choke her or at least grab that beautiful glossy hair and pull it hard all around the room. But all that only happened in my head. I left with Laura and she grabbed my hand. Visibly, she knew that he hadn’t gotten to me. Or maybe it wasn’t him as such but the fact that someone had being so nice to me, even if it had been only sexually, and know that possibility vanished.

 I decided not to let that get the best of me. The next day I decided to focus on my career and in honoring my new post in the office. From day one, I was on top of everything and people noticed it and suddenly I stopped thinking about Joe. I even dated a couple of guys after that, none successful relationships but nice people so I didn’t care. It was a surprise however when, the day Joe and the girl were suppose to get married, he called me and acknowledged all that had happened that night. And then he said the most hurtful word I’ve ever heard.


-       I still think about you.