Turning point

   He walked towards the window and noticed the void was only a few centimeters from his feet. He saw the city, its lights and many smaller figures moving from one side to the other. They could be seen because of the traffic lights and the cars. He imagined, or rather, he asked himself, if maybe there was someone in that entire city that could understand how he felt or what his life was like. But the answer was probably a negative one. He was alone and he had to learn to embrace that or suffer for the rest of his life.

 In his hand, he had the syringe ready to be used. He pressed his hand around it but, somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to do what he always did: inject the client with it so he would sleep longer and then have all the time in the world to rob him of every penny he had. After all, it wasn’t all about two coins. It was about a lot of money that couldn’t be traced once he had done what he knew best. But he just couldn’t do it.

 He was completely naked in front of that window, with a powerful drug in his hand and just couldn’t be the person he had been for so long. Suddenly a couple of tears escaped his eyes and then he knew what happened was really bad. He never cried and it was obvious he wasn’t crying for the guy that was sleeping in he bed. That man had it all and couldn’t complain about a single thing in his life. He cried because if he couldn’t do what he always did, he was done.

-       What’s up cutie?

 A tremor traveled all along his spine. The man on the bed was no longer sleeping.

-       I’m good. I wanted to feel the cold a bit.

-       Ok. Are you staying?

-       Whatever you want.

-       Come here.

 So he had to go back to bed, dropping the syringe in the dark and hoping he would be able to find it afterwards. It would be a disaster for him if someone else saw it and started asking questions.

 In bed, he had to wait until the client fell asleep again but apparently that wasn’t the mood he was in. The moment he got into bed, it seemed the guy had developed a new set of hands. And the younger man didn’t enjoy it one bit. He wanted to pick up his things and leave as soon as possible. But the only way to let the guy do. So he did.

 After thirty minutes or so, the man was tired again and felt asleep right away. The boy got out of bed, went to the bathroom to clean himself and to clean his face too and he discovered that he hated the person that looked at him from the mirror. There had been a separation between the version of him that did whatever was necessary to survive and the him that just wanted to be left alone in order to live in peace. They had lived in peace for long but now it seemed that conflict was coming back to his head.

 He got out of the bathroom and looked for the syringe with the light of his cellphone. It had fallen under the bed. He removed the needle and put it all in an internal pocket of his jacket. He put on his clothes in silence and got out as soon as possible, not before grabbing a couple of bills from the guy’s wallet. The fact that he wasn’t going to do the same thing to him that he did to all others, didn’t meant he didn’t need any money.

 Once outside the hotel, he walked to the nearest metro station and wait on the platform for ten minutes until one of the late trains arrived. There were many people inside for such a late hour but mainly drunks, prostitutes, junkies and many other beautiful flowers of the night. He sat down near the door and realized he was very tired and just wanted to rest. Even his awful bed would be perfect, even in that awful shared apartment in which the other guys living there were more like pigs than men.

 He reflected on his life, thinking he really hated must about it. He would have wanted a nice place with a big bed and a nice mattress. He would have wanted to live alone and away from idiots, who made him have headaches every single day. He would have wanted to just live a private life away from any eyes that would want to ruin that, that would want to judge him for everything he had done.

 But that wasn’t possible. He was poor, even after having stolen so much money. Because there was always a bigger fish and that bigger fish demanded a piece of the earnings or it would do a lot of damage just because. And he had to pay the rent for that hellhole, he had to eat and pay for his metro card. Like any other human being, except he robbed men who were “defenseless”. He didn’t thought of it like that but, whatever.

 Once he got home, he locked the door, turn off the lights and put on some cotton on his ears in order not to hear anything from the outside. He wanted a moment to himself and that wasn’t going to happen if he heard the stupidities of the world outside of him. So he fell asleep soon and he slept for several hours, until he felt he had had enough of his bed. His body felt hurt somehow and then he remembered clients could be assholes so he didn’t give it a second thought.

 Before he could cross any of the idiots that lived with him, he put on some clothes and ran for the door. He bought breakfast with money from an earlier job and tried to eat as slow as he could, in order to enjoy the meal and also to make time go slower. Because if he went fast, night would come again and he didn’t wanted it to come because he was part of it and he had responsibilities there which he didn’t want to fulfill at all.

 He ate bacon, eggs, bread, ham and a cup of tea. It was much more than what he normally ate. Sometimes he would just have a granola bar or something like that. And other days, very bad days, he would stay in his bedroom because there was no money to eat and then he would have to deal with all the other guys shit, They would ask him for money or for drugs or whatever and he was sick to have to do that, dealing with them.

 It was a possibility to send them all to hell, but he really couldn’t do it because he knew what he was like when he lost control. He knew that if he started yelling or something, he couldn’t be stopped. And many times it was not only about what could come out of his mouth but also what he could do to others and himself, physically. He was a very violent man when he wanted to and that’s why he wanted to avoid people in general. They only pissed him off and that wasn’t good.

 After breakfast, he decided to go to a mall and just try to have a normal day, without so many worries. So he grabbed one of the bills he had stolen from his client the night before and promised himself to buy something with that. Maybe a t-shirt or at least an ice cream to enjoy the day. But after looking so many pieces of clothing and so much food, he felt more ill than ever. Somehow, he was worse than he thought.

 He found himself thinking about the man that he wasn’t able to rob and also about all the other that he had indeed robbed. And tried to make sense of all of that. He realized he had no idea how everything had gotten to that point, how it was that a young guy like him had to do such things to keep living. He knew the world didn’t give a shit about him but there had to be more to it than just that.

 Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned instantly, scared as he had being thinking and not paying attention to the people around him. For a minute, he thought it was a cop or a security officer. But it was just Nathan, the guy that charged him for what he did. He knew Nathan had come for more money but he had none. And he was done accepting that deal, because there was nothing he could take away from him anymore. No secrets, no revelations to make to anyone.

 His life was on a turning point but he had no idea if it was for the best or the worst.

Reconstrucción

   Conocía la ciudad como la palma de su mano. Así que cuando le dijeron que tenía que esperar hasta la tarde para que procesaran su pedido de información, supo adonde ir. La ciudad, como el resto de ciudades, había sido devastada por la guerra y ahora se reconstruía poco a poco, edificio por edificio. Había grúas por donde se mirara, así como mezcladoras y hombres y mujeres martillando y taladrando y tratando de tener de vuelta la ciudad que alguna vez habían tenido.

 El ruido era enorme, entonces Andrés decidió alejarse de la mayoría del ruido pero eso probó ser imposible. Tuvo que tomar uno de los buses viejos que habían puesto a funcionar (los túneles del metro seguían obstruidos y muchos seguirían así por años) y estuvo en unos minutos en el centro de la ciudad. Definitivamente no era lo mismo que hacía tiempo. El ruido de la construcción había reemplazado el ruido de la gente, de los turistas yendo de un lado para otro.

 En este mundo ya no había turistas. Eso hubiese sido un lujo. De hecho, Andrés había viajado con dinero prestado y solo por un par de días, los suficientes para reclamar solo un documento que le cambiaría la vida y nada más. No había vuelto a ver como estaban los lugares que había conocido, los edificios donde había vivido. Ese nunca había sido el interés del viaje. Pero la demora con el documento le daba un tiempo libre con el que no había contado.

 Lo primero era conseguir donde comer algo. Caminó por la avenida que en otros tiempos viviera llena de gente, casi toda ella peatonal casi exclusivamente para los turistas. Ahora, con tantos edificios arrasados, la avenida parecía respirar mejor. Para Andrés, la guerra le había servido a ese pequeño espacio del mundo. Además, no había casi personas. Las que habían iban y venían y parecían tener cosas más importantes que hacer que recordar el pasado.

 Andrés por fin encontró un restaurante y tuvo que armarse de paciencia pues estaban trabajando a media marcha. Al parecer habían cortes de luz a cada rato y no podían garantizar que los pedidos llegaran a las mesas completos o del todo. Andrés pidió un sándwich y una bebida que no requería refrigeración y se la trajeron después de media hora, pues habían tenido que buscar queso en otra parte.

 La vida era difícil y la gente de la ciudad no estaba acostumbrada. En otros tiempos había sido una urbe moderna y rica, con problemas muy particulares de aquellas ciudades que lo tienen todo. Pero ahora ya no tenía nada, ahora no había nada que la diferenciara de las demás y eso parecía ser un duro golpe para la gente.

 Cuando por fin tuvo el sándwich frente a sus ojos, Andrés lo consumió lentamente. La luz iba y venía, igual que el aire acondicionado. Por eso se había sentado al lado de la ventana que daba a la calle, para que siempre tuviese luz y no se sintiera demasiado desubicado. Miraba la gente que pasaba y todos parecían estar muy distraídos. Ninguno oía el caos causado por las máquinas ni parecía que les importase en lo más mínimo. La guerra había hecho estragos de muchas maneras.

 Apenas terminó de comer, Andrés dejó el dinero exacto en la mesa y se retiró. Quería seguir caminando porque, por alguna razón, quedarse quieto demasiado tiempo lo hacía sentirse ahogado. Recordó el mar y caminó por la avenida con buen ritmo hasta llegar a los muelles. Las gaviotas habían vuelto pero no los barcos. Solo había algunas lanchas de pescadores y, donde antes habían habido tiendas de lujo, ahora se había formado un mercadillo de pescado y marisco.

 Andrés entró al lugar y se dio cuenta del olor tan fuerte que desprendía todo aquello. Pero le gustó, porque era un lugar que, a diferencia del resto de la ciudad, parecía tener personalidad. Era más calmado que afuera y los compradores apenas negociaban. La gente no tenía energía para pujar o pelear o siquiera convencer. Solo vendían y compraban, sin escándalos de ninguna índole. Era diferente pero Andrés no supo si eso era bueno o malo. Solo era.

Cuando salió del mercado, decidió caminar por la orilla del muelle y se dio cuenta que algunas cosas todavía seguían de pie: un edificio antiguo sobre el que se habían izado muchas banderas, el monumento a un tipo que en verdad no había descubierto nada pero la gente pensaba que sí varios locales de comida mirando al mar. Lo único era que estos últimos estaban casi todos cerrados y los edificios en pie estaban sucios y esa no era una prioridad.

 Eventualmente, siguiendo los muelles, llegó a la playa. No había nadie, ni siquiera un salvavidas y eso que hacía el calor suficiente para meterse al agua un rato. Andrés lo pensó, de verdad que lo pensó pero prefirió no hacerlo. Sin embargo se quitó los zapatos y las medias y camino por la arena un buen rato, barriéndola con los pies y recordando la última vez que había sentido arena.

 Se sentía hacía siglos. Había estado casado entonces y había sido feliz como nadie en el mundo. Ahora estaba solo y sabía que nunca sería tan feliz como lo había sido entonces. Y estaba en paz con eso, porque las cosas eran como eran y no tenía sentido pretender cambiarlas. Su caminata le sacó una sonrisa y un par de lágrimas.

 Por fin, mirando al mar, su celular le vibró. El hombre del archivo le había prometido enviarle un mensaje cuando tuviera listo su documento. Así que se limpió los pies, se puso los zapatos y las medias y buscó algún paradero de bus en el que hubiese una ruta que pasara por el archivo. Solo tuvo que devolverse un poco sobre sus pasos y lo encontró.

En el bus iba muy nervioso. Se cogió una mano con otra y se las apretaba y las estiraba y abría y cerraba. No entendía porqué se sentía así si solo iba por un papel. Pero al fin y al cabo que ese simple pedazo de hoja blanca le iba a cambiar la vida pues tenía encima escrito que su matrimonio había sido real, que no había sido una ilusión y que tenía validez legal pues las leyes que habían estado vigentes en el momento de la unión no eran leyes temporales, de guerra o impuestas. Eran las de siempre y había que respetarlas.

 Cuando llegó al archivo, el hombre que le había ayudado lo recibió en su pequeño cubículo y le entregó una carpeta de papel con tres papeles dentro. El primero era el que había pedido, un certificado de matrimonio como cualquier otro. El siguiente era un resumen de las leyes de la región y el tercero una ratificación formal de que la guerra no había cambiado nada y que todo lo hecho a partir de las leyes vigentes antes de la guerra, seguía siendo vigente después.

 El hombre le contó que su caso era muy particular pues esa ley había empobrecido a muchos y había creado conflictos graves. Pero estaba contento de que a alguien le hubiese servido. Andrés se sintió un poco mal por eso pero el hombre le puso una mano en el hombro y le dijo que así era la vida y que no lo pensara mucho. Solo tenía razones para estar feliz así que todo lo demás era secundario.

 Se despidieron estrechándose la mano y Andrés caminó de vuelta a la parada del bus, pensando en que ahora solo tenía que regresar a casa y vivir una vida algo mejor. Seguramente no sería todo fácil pero de eso se había encargado el amor de su vida. Y esos documentos le daban el pase especial para que todo empezara a funcionar.

 En poco tiempo estuvo en su hotel y decidió solo salir al otro día para el aeropuerto y no ver más de la ciudad. Había visto lo suficiente. Confiaba en que todo se reconstruyera o al menos aquello que le daba vida a la ciudad. Necesitaban renovarse y utilizar la tragedia como un momento para el cambio. Era lo mismo que necesitaba hacer él.

 Esa noche casi no duerme, pensando en el pasado y en lo que había ocurrido no muy lejos hacía tanto tiempo.

 En un parque idílico, con árboles enormes y flores hermosas y el sonido del agua bajando de lo más alto de una colina hacia el mar, allí se había casado con la persona que lo había hecho más feliz en la vida. No sabía si había aprovechado el tiempo que había tenido con aquella persona pero eso ya no importaba. Lo importante es que estaba en su mente y de allí nunca saldría. Había cambiado su vida y se lo agradecería para siempre.

Notice

   I took my shoes off on the wooden walkway, as well as my socks, which I put inside the shoes. I stared at the ocean for a while before I realized I was alone and it was no surprise: a very cold breeze was blowing that day and there was no way someone would choose that time of day to go around and have a stroll by the ocean. Well, except me of course. I stepped on the sand and was surprised to feel it very cold and humid, contrary to all my other experiences at beaches. That sounds odd but the point is I had never been in a “cold beach”.

 I walked slowly towards the ocean. Mid way between the end of the walkway and the water, there was a big rock the appeared to emerge from the deepest parts of the Earth. I left my shoes on it and took a couple of seconds to raise my jeans as high as I could in order not to get them wet. Minutes later, I was in the water, enjoying the wind and the sound of the ocean crashing and forming foam all around me. Somehow, I felt free and better than ever.

 I stopped being alone after a while, when several seagulls landed near the rock and started poking the ground for food. I was surprised to see that one of them was able to pull a crab as big as my fist from the ground and then another one did the same. And then maybe the biggest bird of them all decided that my shoes were food or maybe my socks.

 I saw the bird exploring it all with its beak and I had to run like crazy back to the rock to scare the bird away. I always couldn’t do it because the seagull was not impressed by me running towards it. I had to scream and open my arms, as wings in order for it to release it just couldn’t win. It finally took off and I was able to grab my shoes but, as I pulled out both socks to see it the bird had damaged them, I felt a severe pain.

 Birds are not as stupid as we think. As it happened, there was a small crab inside my shoe. It must have gotten inside of it when I decided to go and soak my feet into the water. It had closed its larger pincer on one of my fingers and I had to shake my hand real hard until it released me. It fell to the ground and I hoped the big seagull would eat it. My finger had a deep cut and that ended my time on the beach.

 With my other hand, I put the socks on my pocket and when I reached the walkway I put on the shoes with no socks on. It wasn’t the best way to go but I just wanted to go back to where I was staying and cure my finger. It wasn’t a long walk, as the small bed & breakfast was on what they called the waterfront, even if the beach could not be seen from the rooms. I felt the blood dripping but didn’t mind at all.

 I asked for my key in the reception and once I had gotten into my room, I checked the front pocket of the bag I had brought and pulled out a Band-Aid. Then, I went out to the bathroom and cleaned my finger under the sink. It hurt but the blood worried me a bit more because it looked darker than usual. I tried to think about what I had eaten recently but couldn’t really remember eating something strange that would cause such a strange reaction.

 When I was finished, I put on the Band-Aid and went back to my room. I decided to stay there for the rest of the day and just be safe away from any crazy injuries. And then I removed my shoes and realized one of my feet hurt. I had a blister on my heel, probably because I had worn my shoes with no socks. My feet were really sensitive so I decided no to touch it too much and just rest my feet, my hands and everything in that room.

 Minutes afterwards, rain started pounding against the window’s glass. I had started reading a book I had brought but I had deceived myself again, because I couldn’t go beyond page five. I just read the same words, again and again, and decided to leave the book and just try to have a nap. After all, there was still light outside. So I closed my eyes and tried to sleep but just couldn’t. My finger felt as if it was pumping an amazing amount of blood and my foot hurt a bit if I moved. I felt so stupid and silly, being there just doing nothing.

 But I knew I wasn’t the kind of person to have adventures every four seconds like other people. I had discovered, through friends, that people normally lied about that so I felt less self-conscious, but I knew that somewhere, some person was actually having a lot of fun and just enjoying life. I was the kind of person that couldn’t walk without getting blisters or attacked by birds. Other people had no idea what that was like.

 It was after thinking all of these things that I felt asleep and did so for about two hours. I had no dreams but rather a really calm sleep. So calm in fact, that I woke up exactly in the same position I had fallen asleep in. That never happened at home anywhere.

 I decided to put some thick socks, the shoes and try to see more of the small town before I had to leave in two days. I had found about it when booking my holidays and decided that, after getting to know a large city, I also wanted to get lost in some small town when I just could feel that I was discovering a brand new world every single day. I had lived that many years ago and just wanted to have that feeling back with me. Besides, I was tired of cities and their people. I needed a change.

 I stepped out of the hotel, having left my key again with the receptionist who would always be on the phone or playing with her cellphone. I didn’t have my cellphone with my, on purpose. The first reason was that it didn’t work on the country and the second reason was that I did not want any distractions from my normal walk. I just wanted to open my eyes and look at people and their normal environment and whatever that part of the world had to offer.

 The town’s main square was located just ten minutes away by walking and I could tell it was a lively day for the town. There were more people that I could have imagined and many nice shops and tents all over were vendors would sell local products, mainly made from oatmeal and wild flowers and lemons. They even sold fish in some of them and the smell made me feel better, even if I didn’t really like fish.

 I went all around the market and then realized that people, some people at least, were looking at me. They seem to point and then hush and then be on their way and that for me was very strange. Back in the city I had visited earlier that week, not one person had ever acknowledged my presence except the ticket vendors in museums and waiters. I even had to yell a lot in a restaurant to get some service. But something was weird in that small town.

 Or maybe, I thought, I was imagining it all. Maybe I just wanted to be seen or something and was putting all of that inside my head and trying for it to be part of the world. So I ignored it all and kept on moving. Sure enough, being almost 8PM, I decided to have something small to eat and some hot beverage with eat in a nice pastry shop with terrace, on the main square. As I sat down, a very nice waiter came and took my order and complimented me on my hair.

 I almost laugh but didn’t because he seemed honest. He came back very fast with a cup of hot tea with sugar and lemon and some complimentary cookies. I also asked for a ham and cheese sandwich and just ate and drink as I saw the people move all around. Again, I felt people looking at me and little kids would wave and make faces to me. And by the end of the evening, I got used to it.

 When I went back to my hotel, I was able to sleep nicely and, after showering with hot water; I decided to make my last day in the village count. I would fish and eat something great, and walk to one of the lavender fields and maybe even get into one of those farm tours and milk a cow or something. I just felt people saw me and I wanted to be a part of anything that happened there. I guess I wanted to thank them, somehow.