Cheers to the good life Page 4
"Great. When I get back up there, not only will San Pedro get a good beating, but Marta too.Iswear."
Again,mygrandmother’slaugh.
"Grandma,really.Enoughalready.Goplaybocceandleavemealone.Isaidfocusingon theceiling.Whydowelookattheceilingwhenwetalktothedead?Iwasneverontheroof.
Wewalk,floatorwanderontheground.Nottheroof."
My grandmother's laughter stopped. At least for now. The green bowl next to the kitchen doorcaughtmyeye.Ihadnochoicebuttogodowntothetownsquaretofetchwaterinorder to bathe. As I walked down the street which was illuminated with a faint orange light; I rememberedmygreatNewYorkapartment...mywindowsoverlookingtherestofbuildings...
my big bathroom and its jacuzzi ... Mmmm ... my jacuzzi! A good life that was ... and how I wantedtobethereagain.
Therewasnooneinthetownsquare.Theoctogenarianshadretiredtotheirindividualhomes and only there were shouts of children and some music in background. Entertained with watchingmybasinfillwithwater,Iheardavoiceofaverywretchedoldwomancallingme.
Atthefirst"Marta!"butIdidn’tturnaround,howeveronthefourthoccasionthatshoutedmy newname,itdawnedonmeshewasreferringtome.
"Tellme,madam,"Isaidrespectfully.Thewomanlookedatmestrangelyfromthewindow ofherhouse.Andthen,shesignaledwithherhandformetocomecloser.
Igrabbedtheheavybasinandwenttothelady'shousefivestepsfromthefountain.Sheleft immediately, the poor woman could hardly fit through the door and was wearing a white nightgownwithlilacflowersthatstoppedjustaboveherswollenankles.What’sgoingonwith women and flower print dresses, nightgowns and other baggy and unflattering clothing? I rememberedthepersonresponsibleforthedeathofmypreviouslife,theownerofthatdamn toaster,andIthoughtofherfrumpyflowerprintmoomoo,whosefuckinghusbandleftherfor hercousin.
"Marta,I'vemadeyousomedinner."Almostcry.Myeyeslitup,Igrabbedthesupperand huggedthegenerouswoman.
"Thankyou,thankyousomuch."
I came home with some difficulty and forcing the right side of my body because of the heavybasin.IquicklysatdownatthetableandopenedtheTupperware.Insidewaschorizo,a cookedpotatocoveredinverystrangeredsauceandnext,averycuriousgreasymeat.Butmy stomachgrewlouderandlouder,sowithoutfurtherconcernandwithoutthinkingofthepounds IwouldaddtoMarta'simperfectbody,IbegantodevouranddevourthefoodlikeIhadnever donebefore.
Withafullstomach,Iwenttotakeabath.Itotallymessedupthebedroombathroom...I nearlydiedoflaughterandinfact,Iknowofonewhogotakickoutofitandlaughed.Again.
AndIknewshejusthadtobehere,presentandinvisible,gigglingatallmyhumanmisfortunes.
Thecheapshampooandthepeculiarsmellinggel,didn’tleaveperfectresults.Butsomething good had to be cleaned in these conditions and with very, very ... very cold water. My headachewasgone.Awesome!
Iputontheblackleggings,oneofthewidewhitesuspendersandflatshoes.Ilookedinthe mirror. I remembered my long legs as Laura, my blue eyes and brown hair that was still appearingintelevisioncommercialsastheimageforanimportantshampoocompany,beingthe envyofanyhair...myperfectnosewithoutfreckles,myfull,thickandlusciouslips...myhigh cheekbones ... How I missed my high cheekbones! Discovering the Marta’s last name, however,tookmeovertheedge.ItwasadetailI’doverlookeduntilthemomentIdiscovered heridentitycard.MartaMatalascañas.Nooooo!Matalascañas!Ihadalreadychangedmylast namefromRuiztoSmith(becauseitsoundedcoolerandinternational),howwouldImanage withMatalascañas?
ItwasstillhalfanhourbeforeFelisawastocomepickmeup.Igrabbedthecellphone,which waslyingonthebed,andstartedtogossipmessagesandthingslikethat.One’smobilesaysa lotaboutaperson,it’spersonal,uniqueandnon-transferable.Myoldcellphonekeptalotof secrets ... Shit! Obscene WhatsApp photos with my ex perfect body in front of the bathroom sinkmirror,videosofbingedrinkingandvariouselegantparties...Ididn’twanttothinkabout whocouldhavemyIPhoneandIonlyhadonewish...thatwoulditwould’vediedwithme, withoutbattery.
Let'ssee...Marta’sWhatsApp...Felisa,Felisa,Felisa...andmoreWhatsAppofFelisa.I discovered the name of the short-haired woman, Clara. And the mole on the cheek Silvia.
Perfect,let'sdoit.OneAdolfowithaphotoinhisprofileinwhichheonlyshowedhistattooed biceps with what appeared to be a lion. Very well trained, yes sir ... shame about the tatty tattoo.
May2,2012
"HelloBeautiful!Shallwestaytomorrow?"
"Ican’t,Iworkuntilthethousando’clock"
"Toobad,Ihadsomethingpreparedforyou..."
"Likewhat?"
"Somethingsimilartotheotherday..."
"I'llbesotired..."
"Areyougivingmetherunaround?"(SadEmoji)
"No!YouknowthatIloveyou...(BlushingEmoji).We'llmeettomorrowandsurpriseme"
"Yougotit!Kissessweetie"(ManyEmojiswithheartkisses).
Ihadtodiscoverthefacethatbelongedtothosestrongbiceps.Althoughitdidn’tseemto
beaformalrelationshipandIwasconvincedthatthepreviousMarta’stasteinmenwasvery differentfrommine.Infact,Iwasverymuchdoubtfulthattherewouldbesomeoneinthattown whowoulddrawmyattention.
After investigating in various WhatsApp profiles, especially the masculine ones and discovering that the two other men who were with Silvia and Clara in the terrace of the bar were called Toni and Jaime and that the last one had a fling with the girl with the mole, I finally saw his name. ALEJANDRO. Felisa mentioned it, he had to be important in Marta’s life.NobodypostsacreepyphotoontheirWhatsAppprofileandsocialnetworks,buttheguy wasextremelyhandsome.Darkhair,tannedskin,greeneyes,aprettysmile...
Lastconversation:April9,2012.
"HelloAlejandro...Idonotwanttobotheryou"
"Neverbother"
"You'reokay?"
"Icouldbebetter"
"Youcouldbewithme"
"ButI'mnot"
"I’msorry"
Endofconversation.Isteppedback...
February15,2012
"HelloAlejandro"
"Hello"
"Howareyou?"
"YoucaughtmewhileI’mbusyworking"
"We'lltalksomeothertime"
"Yeah,someothertime"
I grew wide as plates. Only a few words, dry, very dry and sharp words. What had happenedtoAlejandro?Whowashe?Isteppedback.
November4,2011
"HelloBeautiful.Doyouwanttogooutfordinnertoday?"
"Iwouldloveto"
"I'llpickyouupatnine"(Emojiwinking)
"Yes.Kisseshotty"(ManyEmojiswithheartkisses)
(InfiniteEmojiswithheartkissesandrosesfromAlexander).
END of WhatsApp messages. This was all so confusing. What happened? What was the history between those two? Of course, I was never interested in understanding any man or getting to deep with them. In my previous life, men were dispensable. I used to proudly say, thatformemenwerelikeaKleenex,touseandtothrowaway.Formoney,drinks,dinners,sex
...andnothingelse.Youwouldn’tfindonmypreviousmobilephoneanydeepconversationsor evenniceones...well,sometimestherewouldbeadeclarationoflovefromsomeobsessed guy,butnotmorethanthat...
"Doyouknowwhatwouldbegoodrightnow?Istheresomegossipysoulthatwouldlike tocatch
meuponthelatest...Yeah?Going...once,goingtwice..."Isaidlookingatthestarry sky. But no one appeared, not even my grandmother’s annoying laughter. She must’ve been surelyoccupiedinheaventoastingtoherwitchofagranddaughter'sterriblenewlife;Withher old friends injected up to sky with Botox to get the look I already wanted. Better not go on kidding about apparitions and stuff, right? A flashing star flashed past. Okay ... yes ... better not.
Acrossthestreet,Iheardthesoundofaninsistentcarhorn.ItmustbeFelisa,rightontime.
Irandownstairs,turnedoffthelights,lockedthedoor,andclimbedintomyfriend'srickety HondaCRX.
"Areyoubetter?"sheasked.
"Yes,alittlebetter..."
"Doyouwannaacigarette?"Acigarette!Yes!Ihadforgottenmyaddictiontonicotine.
"OfCourse!"
And I smoked ... with a silly smile on my new face, as we listened to "Imagine all the people"bymynon-friendJohnLennonandthesummernightbreeze,Istrokedmyfreckledface
...
Chapter4
“If,forexample,youcomebyatfouro’clock,
I’llstartfeelingexcitedat3o’clock”
“TheLittlePrince”
IhadalreadyexperiencedFelisa'slackofskillatthewheel.Ittookhertenminutestoparkher carinaspacethatcould’veeasilyfitatruck.
"Wecan’tstaytoolate,wehavetoworktomorrow,"saidFelisaoncewegotoutofthecar.
"Ofcourse,thesuper-"Isaidinadiscouragedtone.Idesiredsomuchtogobacktowork atthesupermarketonlytohaveatoasterovenonmyheadagain."Doyouworktheretoo?"
Felisa’sfrenziedpaceslowedtoahaltandIwithher.
"Really? This again?" I shrugged. "Marta, you know perfectly well that I work under my father'swatchfuleyes.Stopaskingquestionsthatdon’tmakesense.Don’tyougetit?"Oops...
shelookedangry.
"Ofcourse,ofcourse...I'msorry."DidIjustsaythosetwowords?Whatwashappeningto me?
Wecontinuedwalkinguntilwestopinfrontofabar.Itwasn’ttheNewYorkDeath&Co thatIlikedsomuch,butitwasn’tbadeither...Wegreetedthosewhohadalreadyarrived,and wereleaningonthebardrinkingsomething.Clara,Silvia,Toni,Jaimeandonemorewoman, nexttoanothermanthatIvaguelyrememberseeinginsomeoftheFacebookphotos,butIwas cluelessabouttheirnames.
"So,whatdoyouwannadrink?"Felisaasked.
"Nothing..."Isaid,rememberingthedamn50eurosleftinmypoorbankaccountandthe5
thatIhadinmypurse.
"Okay,drinklaterifyou’reuptoit."
"Yeah,sure..."
I looked at all the people who were engaged in exciting conversation. It would’ve been easierformeifsomeonetohadcometospeaktomealone;Buttheyalltalkedinbiggroups.I was beginning to feel as lost as the day when I died ... but there was no John Lennon to entertainme.Itwasagonizingtoremembermyprevioushappylifeincomparisontoallthis.
Because engraved in my mind were images of Laura, always elegant and impeccable in expensive signatures dresses. When making my entrance in any place, everyone gazed in wonder, admiring my beauty and giving me the best places to sit. They invited me to drinks, theyallwantedtotalktomeandIwasthecenterofattention.Andnow?Iwasabadlydressed,
anunmaskedmonstrosity,nooneshowedanyinterestandIhadtostanduncomfortablyalone, because no one invited me to drinks and wasting the little money I had on a drink would’ve later made things worse. Instinctively, I glanced at the bar door and there he was. HIM. I recognizedhimimmediately.IsupposeHEreceivedasimilaradmirationtotheonethatLaura always did. All the women in the bar stopped what they were doing and fixed their gaze on him. But he didn’t seem to care. As he strolled closer and closer to us, majestic, elegant ...
with an air of tough guy, "I'm handsome, and I know it ... but I don’t care too much" ... and smiling. But he stopped smiling when he saw me. Just a sideways and fleeting glance. His contempttowardmeshowedonhisface.
"Alejandro,myman!It’sbeenalongtime!"Jaimegreetedhim.
"Toomuch,right?I'vebeenbusythough,"hesaid,givingallthewomeninourgroupapeck onthecheekexceptFORME."ACocaCola,please,"heasked,addressingthewaitresswho hadbeenhypnotizedforsometime.
NoonelooksashandsomeashelooksinhisWhatsAppprofilephotoorsocialnetworking
...nobodyexcepthim.Hewasevenmoregorgeousinperson.Muchmore.ButwhathadMarta donetohim?HowcouldsomeonelikehimlookatsomeonelikeMarta?Orinsomeonelike
me?
Felisaapproachedme.
"A bit uncomfortable, isn’t it? Girl... I don’t know how you let him get away," she said, tappingmeontheshoulderandshakingherhead.
"Wanna go outside and smoke?" I asked my new friend, looking at Alejandro who had alwaysavoidedlookingme.
FelisaandIwentouttosmoke."Filthyhabit!"Theyallshoutedatusfromoneofthetableson the bar’s terrace, a group of forty-somethings. Felisa laughed, surely Marta knew them too.
Aftertwopauses,IdecidedtoaskFelisawhathadhappenedbetweenAlejandroandMarta.
Betweenmeandhim.
"Felisa...thisafternoon,youtoldmeaboutmytraumawhenmyparentsdied...thatIhad forgottenevenAlejandro..."Ibegantosay.
"Yes,butthat'swaterunderbridge.Ithappenedfiveyearsago."
Thatdidnotmakemuchsense,becauseMartaandAlejandrohadbeenbrokenupmonths
ago.Notyears.Months.
"Yeah,butwhathappened?"
"When your parents had the car accident, you cut yourself off from the world. You remember that, right? You didn’t leave the house for months. I don’t know what happened to yourmind,butyouforgotpeople,asitseemstobehappeningtoyounow...evenAlejandro.
Youdidn’tknowanyone,andyoudidn’trememberanyone...He’sbeentheloveofyourlife sinceyouwerekids...andIthinkhe’sbeenverypatientwithyou.Hewaswhohelpedyouout ofthepitofdepressionandbelieveme,itwasn’teasy,itwasfatal.Andyoupaidforit...and boy,didyoupayforit.Poorthing...nowheseemsfine,alittlehappier."
"ButwhatdidIdotohim?"Iwhispered.
"Are you really asking me that?" I can’t believe you Marta, yours is very strong Aunt.
Felisascreamedatmesoloudlythateveryonethereturnedtolookatus.
"Shhhh...loweryourvoice..."
"Look,ifyoudon’tgotothedoctortomorrow,I'lltakeyou."
"Forgetthedoctoralready!"Iwastheonewhospoketooloudlynow.Thepatronsonthe barterracewerehavingagreattimewithus."Felisa,IjustwantyoutotellmewhatIdidto Alejandro."
FelisalookedatmewiththesamecontemptthatAlejandrohadbefore.Ifeltlikerealshit, thoughnoteventhatwasreal.BecauseIhadn’tdoneanythingtothepoorman,Iwasonlythe newownerofthebodythathaddonesomuchdamage.IcursedagainMarta,whowashappyin heaveninjectingBotoxorgoingtoMasswithSaintPeterthehippy.Noworries,nopain,no traumas ... I remembered peace and happiness in my spirit while crossing the light with her parents.Andthatgirlcrossedthelight,andIdidn’t?Arewekidding?
WhenIreturnedtothebar,Iwaspleasantlysurprisedtofindeveryonetalkingaboutme, LauraSmiththemodel!
"Isshereallydead?Andwhathappened?"Claraasked.
"Yes, a few days ago. Drugs, you know ... these models do cocaine to stay thin," Silvia said.That’stherumor?Damntabloids.Thetoasterstoryisridiculous...true,
butridiculous.It waseasiertowritethatdrugshadendedmylife,andinsomewayswaslesscomical.Much moretragicandpeoplelovetoreadtragedies.
"Shelookedgreat,"Jaimesaidlasciviously,sippinghisdrink.Inodded.Yes,itwasgreat shewas.
"Ilovedher.Shehadtobesomethingofanangel,"Alejandrosaid.Shewasanangel...I likedthatalotmorethanshelookedgreat.
When Alejandro spoke, everyone was silent. They listened to him, looked at him and respectedhim.Hedidn’tspeakliketherest,pronouncedtheletterSdifferently,hadaneutral SpanishaccentandIlookedathimasdumbasall...happybecausehethoughtofme.Because if!IwasLauraandIstillamanangel.Insideawronganddisastrousbody...but...maybeI couldtalktohim.Maybehewouldfallinlovewithme.WithMartaagain,withoutsuspecting thatinsideofherinhabitedthatmodeltopthatenchantedtohim.Isuspectedthatmynewbody wasdrawntohimforallthattheyhadlivedthroughwhichwascompletelyunknowntome.But that"infatuation"IwasexperiencingfromthemomentIsawhimwalkthroughthedoor,hadit also happened to Laura's body? For a moment, I even thought of the delirious idea of telling Alejandro that under that body he seemed to know so well, hid that model he loved. But of course, I thought of that unknown executive, locked up in an asylum and claiming he was NapoleonandIfeltlikehim.
IwasgoingtosaysomethingaboutthedeadmodelIknewsowell,whenIrealizedIhad been left all alone. Everyone had left the bar and only Felisa, waited patiently at the door smokinganothercigarette.
"Lookhowweirdyouare..."shesaidagain.
I was starting to like Felisa. She was harsh and cruelly honest, and at the same time the kind of friend you would always want with you. In good times and bad times. As Laura, I would’ve liked having friend like that, but at the same time if that opportunity arrived, I
probablywould’verejectedher.AsMartha,Ifeltluckytohaveher.Therewerethingsabout thissecondchanceatlifethatatthemoment,theyweren’tsobad.