Cheers to the good life Read online

  AftertakingastrollthroughthePaseo,wewalkafewstepsdownDuchess’VictoryStreetand turned left at Saint Bartholomew Street. The street seemed to be lined with bars and pubs, therewerelotsofpeopledrinking,laughing,talking...living.Butactually,therewereonlytwo pubsopen.Onehadtwoentrances,illuminatedwithadimlightwhichcouldbeseenfromthe street. The other, completely closed and unable to see from the outside was less appealing.

  Onlysixteen-year-oldscameandwent.

  Weenteredthepubwiththetwoentrances,setwithasongbyDavidBisbal.Istilldidn’t knowwhattosaytoanyone.IhopedMartawasalsoawomanoffewwordsandthatnoone wouldnoticeherbehavior.

  "It’soneinthemorning!Let’sgoattwoo'clockbecausewehavetobeontimeforwork tomorrowatthesupermarket.Didwemeetonthepromenadeforcoffee?"Apparently,Clara, the short-haired woman, worked the supermarket with me. I had never been so happy about someone inviting me for coffee. I knew where the ride was, but I had no idea where the supermarketwaswheremynewselfworked.Andmyfinancialsituationwasinnoshapefor metogetfired.Howironic!AsLaura,didn’tgetoutofbedforlessthanthreethousandeuros andasMarta,Ihadtoworkhardtoearnalittlemoreandnotforaday...amonth...

  "Sure,whattime?"

  "Atseveno'clock!"Claralookedattheclock.

  Mybodyshudderedatthethoughtofthoseuntimelyhours,butIlaughedagainbeforeIwent tothebartoaskforacubacocktail.Iwasleftaloneinthemiddleofthepub.Surroundedby people,butalone.ItappedmyfootalittletothebeatoftheSpanishsingerBisbal’ssongbutI didn’t feel like being the queen of the track. Not tonight. All my friends were at the bar includingHIM.Weexchangedglances.Neitherofuslookedawayfromeachother.Itwaslike aduel...Istartedtolikethatlittlegame.Hedidn’tsmilethough,butatleasthedidn’tlookat mewithcontempt.Now,helookedatmewithgrief,hecouldseeitinhiseyes.Ikeptstaringat him, and it felt like I’d known him forever, without ever having exchanged any words. Of course, for him, I was someone he knew very well ... Someone he had spoken and kissed before...andclearly,Ihadsomethingverybad.Somethingthatsurely,hewouldneverforgive.

  As soon as I decided to approach him, I felt a hand on my bottom. Immediately and instinctively, I landed a heavy blow on the owner of the brazen and inopportune hand. I watchedasAlejandrolookedawayfromme.Heseemeddisappointed.

  "Fool!"Ishoutedtothemanwhohadsqueezedmyass.

  "Are you crazy? What's wrong? Aren’t you glad to see me?" he asked pouting as he slitheredclosertome.

  Ilookedathisbulkybiceps.Whatahotty.Verycool.Andthatuglyandtackyliontattoo.

  Unmistakable.ItwasMiguel,Marta’sfriendwithbenefits.Really?SheleftAlejandroforhim?

  He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t as handsome or classy as Alejandro. He was half bald but he

  correctedthatdetailwithdignitybykeepinghisheadshaved.Largenose,browneyesandtall, verytall.

  "Haven’tyoumissedme?"heinsisted.

  "What?"

  "Chacho!"

  "Chacho?"-overtimeIlearnedthat"Chacho"isafairlycommonexpressioninCáceres meaning"Kid".

  "It’sbeenamonth...don’tyoumissedthesebiceps?"

  "Andwhereyou’vebeenformonth?"Iasked,thoughIdidn’tcare,nottheleast;Looking sidewaysatAlejandro,whowasalreadyinaconversationwithawomanIhadn’tseenuntil thatmoment.

  "I told you. In Seville with my father. In a play," Miguel said, disconcerted. I was beginningtogetusedtoeveryone’sconfusionandbewildermentwhenIaskedthemthingsthatI obviouslyhadtoknow.

  Alejandrolaughed,smiledshylyandstaredathisnewcompanion.Sheflirtedblatantly.Of course,shewasmuchprettierthanIwas,oratleasttheveneerandpaintshehadundergone workingforher.Well,trimmedhair,blonde,tall,goodphysique...andasweetandprettyface.

  AlejandrolookedatmeoutofthecornerofhiseyeashenoticedIwaswatching.Heputhis hand on the woman's shoulder and left the pub. Miguel was still talking about heat, sweat, heights,gym,horses...butI’dstoppedlisteningtohimforsometime.

  "That’sveryinterestingAdolfo...butIhavetogo.Iworktomorrow,"Isaidsharply.

  "CanIgowithyouandspendthenighttogether...youknow?"Hereplied,drawingcloser andcloser...Iswervedhimaway.

  "Seriously,what'swrong?You'reverychanged,"hesaid.TheSpanishsinger,Bisbalhad givenwaytoCarlosBaute,andmanywomeninthebarsanghissonglikecrazy."Before,you wouldn’thavewaitedtogohomeandwewould’vedoneitinthebathroom."Itriedtopicture it.Inthesink?Andtheformerownerofthisbodygotintoheavenlyparadise?

  "Youdon’tinterestmeanymore.Andso,ourconversationisover.Pleasedonotbotherme anymore."

  "It’syourloss."Andheleft.Notwithoutfirstshowingmehisbiceps,histattooedlionand hispoutylips.

  I went over to my new friends who talked, they danced a little from time to time to the rhythmofBauteanddranklongsipsfromtheirrespectivecubacocktails.

  "Felisa,tellmeIhavegasinmycar."

  "Youhavegasinyourcar.

  "I'mgoinghome."

  "Idon’trecognizeyou.Thatblowtoyourheadhascompletelychangedyou.ButIthinkfor thebetter,"Felisasaid,winkingatme.

  "Now,tellme...howhaveIchanged?WhatwouldIbedoingnow?"

  "You’dbedrunk,"shesaidlaughing,"drinklikeafishandgohomewithanyoneoutthere.

  You know, living life, remember? But that kind of life did not benefit you at all ..." she said sadly.Iwasabouttotakeyoutoalcoholicsanonymous,butIseenowyoudon’tneedit.

  Asmilelitupmyface.AsLaura,IadmitIabuseddrugsandalcoholbutIcertainlydidn’t gotobedwithjustanyone.AndIneverputoutinasink.Phew!Iwassmarterthanthat.AndI decidedatthatmoment,toapplymyeleganceandgracetoMarta'snewbody.Tuneitupabit andbethecenterofinterestinggame...notmenliketheliontattooguy...

  "Felisa,willyoucomeandpickmeuptomorrow?"asked.

  "Attwoo'clock?"

  "Sure,attwoo'clock..."

  "Well, tomorrow is Saturday, a free afternoon! An afternoon for us girls!" She lifted her cubaintoastinggesture.

  "Great. You know, I'd like some contact lenses," I said, sick of those uncomfortable glasses.

  "Finally!I'vebeentellingyouthatforyears!"

  "Great.CanIhaveacigarettefortheroad?"

  "Heretakeit.Seeyoutomorrow!"

  "Martha!Seveno'clockonthewalk!"Clarashoutedatmefromtheotherendofthepub.

  Ileft.IlookedforAlejandro,buttherewasnotraceofhim.Orthewomanhe'dlefttheplace with. I knew where my car was but decided to opt for an unknown route, to get to know the townalittle.Insteadofgoingdownthestreet,Iwentupandturnedleft.Icameacrossatown squarethathadafountaininthemiddle,itwascalledPlazaGregorioBravo.Howmanytown squares were there in that town? I knew I had to find my car, so I went down, down ... and withoutdifficulty,Ifoundmyrideinfrontofme.Thetablesontheterracesoftownbarswere alreadysetwithchairsontopandtherewasnotasoulinsight.IarrivedatmyoldSuzukiand whilelookingforthecarkeys,IsawHIM.Ontheotherside,stillasagloomystatue,handsin hispocketsandnotraceoftheblondewoman.Hiseyeshadlookinthemlikesomeonewho’s inlove.Ihadn’tknowntherealmeaningofthewordinmypreviousbody,butIdidn’tneedto beaNobelprizewinnertorealizethatbehindhisstareweredeephiddenfeelings.Verygood feelings. Without looking away from
me, he crossed the street and stood in front of me. His presencemademylegsstarttoshakeandatickleinmystomach.

  "Hello."Icouldbarelyarticulateaword."Aren’tyougonnasayanything?"

  "Sure...hello..."hesaidtimidly.WhathadbecomeofLauraSmith?

  We were silent for a while. It wasn’t those uncomfortable silences in which you feel the need to utter any nonsense to break the ice. No, it wasn’t necessary to. Our eyes said everything.Andsuddenly,withoutwarning,IcaughtaglimpseofawomanbehindAlejandro.

  Shedidn’tevengivemetimetodistinguishherface,sinceitseemedthatshewasrunningfrom one side to another. She seemed to wear a white nightgown and have long, dark hair, but nothing more. I looked behind Alejandro to make sure there was no one there. If she had stayed,Iwouldhaveactedalittlecrazy,honestly.Butsheinstantlydisappeared.Ibowedmy head,beggingSaintPetertokeepanyapparitionfromdestroyingmymoment...

  "Areyouokay?"Alejandroaskedworriedly.

  "YesYes..."

  "You’rebeingstrange."

  "Somesayso."

  "Wehavetotalk."Helookedatmeevenmoreintently.Youwantto?"Evenifheaskedme tothrowmyselfoffabridgewithhim,Iwould’vesaidyes.

  "Yes."

  "I'llpickyouupatfourtomorrow?Iseverythingokay?"

  "Yes...youwereonthesameterraceasme,right?"Alejandronoddedinsurprise.Doyou knowthenameofthattownyoucanseeoffinthedistancefromthecorneroftherailing?

  "Marvão"

  "That’sit!"Isaid,happytoknowatlastthenameofthetownIhadseeninthedistance."I wantyoutotakemethere."

  "ButyouhatePortugal?"WasthatPortugal?IhadtofinditonGoogleandIhadtoknow exactlywhereIwasinSpain.

  "Therearemanythingswannachange,Alejandro,"Iansweredresolutelyandwaitingwith that,tohaveachancewithhim.

  "Ithinkthat’sfine.It’sabouttime."

  "Okay,yeah...eh...atfourthen"

  "Atfour."

  "Atfour..."

  "Yes..."

  Alejandrosmiled.Hebentdownalittle,Imoistenedmylipstogetthemready,thinkingit was time for a romantic kiss and ... he pointed to his cheek as if I were a little girl and he askedmeforaninnocentkiss.Ikissedhim.Andheleft.Leavingmewiththedesire.AsLaura, haddonesomanytimesthroughthestreetsofNewYork,Milan,Rome,London,Barcelona,​

  Madrid...goodplay.

  Startingmycarwasanodyssey.Igotthehangofitinfifteenminutesandfinally,Idrovetomy small town of white houses, surrounded by mountains with pine trees and a spectacular pink skyatsunset.

  Itwastwo-thirtyinthemorningbutIwasn’tsleepy.Mybodywastired,butmysoul,the oldone,wasmorealivethanever.IlitthecigarettethatFelisahadgivenmeandlookedatthe starrysky.SmokingwassomethingIhadneverdonebefore.Laurawouldsurelybedisgusted, preferringthesmelloftheasphaltandpollutionofabigcity.DyingforagoodMartininexttoa handsomebusinessexecutive,inasuperficialconversation.AndIwasstillLaura,thatcocky topmodelthatonlysoughtpopularityandmaterialwealth...onlyIdidn’thaveworrythatIhad only 50 euros left in my new bank account and my last name was Matalascañas. I was surprisedatmyselfandreadytostartlivingthatsecondchance.

  "Marta,"themadnessoftalkingtoyourself,"I'mgonnagiveyouamakeover.We’regonna startexercising,stopeatingchorizo​andmakeyouatopmodel.Getdownandwithfrecklesbut

  ..."Iresignedmyself.

  AndIwenttobed,notbeforesettingthealarmatsix-fifteeninthemorning.Crap!Atfour o’clock,ashiverwokemeup.

  "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!"Iscreamedwithallmymightcoveringmyheadwiththesheet.

  Atthefootofthebed,appearedthewomanwhoIhadpreviouslyseenbehindAlejandro.

  Her figure was disfigured because she paced so fast from side to side. I shook my head, pinchedmyselfandithurt...Iwasn’tdreaming,itwasreal.Icouldseerealspiritsanditwas scary.Atleastseethemthatway.Ifumbledtoturnonthelight,trembling.

  "Girl!You'regoingtogettired!"Iyelled.Itseemedtowork.

  "You can see me!" And finally, she stopped in front of me. Her eyes a wide, deep black color.Shewaspaleandveryhaggard.

  "Whatisyourname?"Sheshrugged."Youdonotknow?"Sheshookherhead.Womanof fewwords?Shelookedatmeterrified.Istoppedbeingafraid.

  "Somethingbadisgoingtohappen."

  "AndcanIdosomethingtoavoidit?"Hesaidsadly.Whenyoudied?Heshruggedagain.

  Difficult,verydifficult.

  "I have a son. He is five years old. Something bad is going to happen, something bad is going to happen ..." she kept saying uneasily. And she paced back and forth. I looked at the clock,four-thirty.

  "Quiet!Please!"Shestoppedagain."Somethingbadaboutyourson?"

  "He'sgoingtolose.He'sgoingtolose..."

  "Quiet.Findhim,okay?Andwhenhegetslost,comeandseemeandtellmewhereheis.I will find him and protect him." My words sounded sure and convincing. The ghost calmed down, thanked my security with a smile and disappeared. Someone else? I waited a few seconds. Nothing, there was no next batch. But I didn’t keep an eye on it. I didn’t hear the laughterofmygrandmotheroranotherbeingontheotherexistentialplanemockingmycurious humanexistence.Whatareyougoingtodoatthishour?

  Atsix,Iwenttothekitchenwithanintensecravingforsomecaffeine.Butnothing.Ithought aboutmysoontobepaycheckfromthesupermarketandthatencouragedmealittle.Iwould havemoneytobuyfood,topayexpenseslikewater...tohaveamoreorganizedlifethanthe previousMartahadseemedtolive.AndifIcould,savealittlebit.BeforeIleft,Itookacold bathwiththewaterIgotfromthefountain.Theoctogenarianshadnotyetlefttheirbeds.Ifelt mortified to be sporting a supermarket uniform. Those pants, that shirt ... at least it was comfortable.

  I got my car as it was dawning. I was enormously thankful for the sky and its incredible spectrumofcolors.HowwouldImakeoutatmynewjob?Iwasaccustomedtoworkingwith hundredsofpeoplewatchingme,makeupartistsandstyliststakingcareofme,camerasaround megettingmybestside...spotlightsilluminatingmeandfavoringmyartificialposesthatwere so well in the photographs and television. But ... what was the life of a supermarket cashier like?Iwouldsoonfindout.

  Clarawaswaitingformeintheparkinglot.Herfacewasworthathousandwords.

  "Ihavenotsleptatall!"sheharped.Gusmessedmeupand..."

  "Who’sGus?"-again,anotherfaceofbewilderment.

  "Yes, you're still being weird," she harped, laughing as she led me through some narrow streetstothebarwherewewouldhaveacoffee.Mmmm...Coffee!

  WesatdownandItookmyfirstsipofcoffee,Itwasgreat.Howlonghaditbeensincemy lastcupofcoffee?ThelastoneIrememberwasinNewYork,beforethedamntoasterflewout thewindowatultrasonicspeed.

  "ComplicatedthesituationwithAlexander,right?Inoticedyoulookedverynervous.

  "Yes,well..."IdidnotknowwhereIstoodinmyfriendlyrelationshipwithClara.Wasshe apersonIcouldtrust?Wassheagoodfriend?WhowasClara?

  "Comeon!Youalwaystellmeeverything...andmostlyaboutmycousin."

  "Yourcousin?"Again,thefaceofbewilderment.Itwasbeginningtoamusemetohavethe giftofleavingeveryoneflipped.

  "That'swhatourmomssay,"shelaughed.

  "No,yes,ofcourse-Ihaveadatewithhimtoday."

  "Butit'sourgirls’afternoon!"

  "It'llhavetobeanotherday,"Iwin
ked.

  "Iunderstand...Ithinkit'sgreatforyouguystogettogetherandtalk.Especiallysincehe’s movingoutoftownsoon.

  "What?"

  "Haven’tyouheard?Well,he'lltellyou.He’sbeenofferedareallygoodjobinAveiro."I hadnofuckingideawhereAveirowas.“He’llbeinchargeofashoppingcenter,theassistant directororsomething.He’slucky."

  Andmyheadwenttoanothercorneroftheplanet.TheinformationClarahadgivenmewas worsethanthefatefulmomentwhenIsawthedamntoasterfalloutthewindow.AndIdidn’t knowwhy...itdidn’tmakemuchsense.Iwouldneverforgetthedamntoastermoment,right?

  "NO"...answeredavoiceinmyheadverysimilartoSt.Peter's.

  Ateightweheadedtowork.TwomenopenedthegiantblindsasClaraandIwalkedin.I copiedeverythingshedid,placingmyselfinwhatappearedtobe"myworkarea."Fortunately, my body seemed to go in automatic mode, as if a button had been pressed for me to do everythingIknewtodo.Myhandsknewperfectlyhowtohandlethecashregister,themoney, the change, the products, the bar codes ... while my brain, worked a thousand miles an hour, thinking about work, Alejandro, spirits and toasters. At eight-thirty, people began to enter, especiallyoctogenarianswiththeirwalkingsticksandshoppingcarts.

  The closing time came quickly and without any difficulty despite my initial fears. My agile handsdidn’tfailme.Theyworkedproperlyatalltimes.Thejobwasveryentertaining.Myco-workerswereverynice,apparentlytheyallknewmebecausetheygreetedmeandspoketome asifIwasonemorememberofthefamily.Havingsuchagoodconnectionamongco-workers wasn’tsomethingIwasusedto.Thathelpedmesmileandbenice.NICE!WhenhadI,Laura

  "Smith",beennicetosomeoneselflessly?Intheworldofmodels,ifwecouldhavesnatched

  eachother’seyesout,Iamconvincedthatwewould’vedoneit...Companionship?Whatwas that?However,atthesupermarketeveryonehelpedeachother.Therewasnorivalryandeven themanager,Manuel,ashortandstoutmaninhisfifties,madethejobeasier.Beforeclosing, he told me to stop by his office. For a moment, I feared that the previous Marta had messed aroundwiththeboss,butIwasrelievedtoseeaphotographonhisdeskthatfeaturedasuper happyManuelwithhiswifeandhisfullfacedtwoteenagers.