Young Writers Society

Her eyes are like two deep pots of honey. They are warm, comfortable, sweet. The moment I see her eyes I want to know her. So I order two bourbons and approach her. Casually, almost talking to myself I said:

"Did you know that Four Roses was named after a woman?"

I get her attention, she smiles, unsure of how to answer that question. I follow my monologue.

"There was once a young lady that went to a bar. She asked the bartender for a drink. That man fell for her, almost instantly. He served her an aged whisky, the most expensive drink he had. The woman drank it, and left. While leaving she dropped a handkerchief, with four rouses labeled on it. The man was so intensely in love with her that when he found the handkerchief he thought that she would come for it. Then he spent the rest of his life distilling an alcohol that would suit her. He enveloped the bottle with the handkerchief, waiting."

She looks at me, and then looks at the drinks that I am holding. If she wants to kick me that is the moment, after a pause I finish.

"When I saw you I couldn’t resist remembering that story. I would like to treat you to a drink."

Her eyes glow, with an internal smile, then for the first time since I approach her she allows me to hear her voice.

"Sure."

After a few shots, a bottle would follow. After the introductions, the flirting would follow. And after the bar, her room would follow.

***

I play hide and seek with my clothes sure that at the end I would win. My pants are over a chair, my shirt is hanging from the door, guess how did it end there, and my shoes were waiting for me at the entrance. After a few minutes I stand in the kitchen drinking tea. With a mug by her bed and a "Goodbye" I leave.

At the elevator I check myself. I try to smile, but I have forgotten how to. I only get a grin from the mirror. I check my hair, brushing it with my hand, Grandpa never liked when I did that. "Always use a comb" he said.

The Show must go on! I got a text from Sue.

"I arrived yesterday. Do you want to meet? I will be at the beach till noon. You know where. See you."

Sue is one of my oldest friends. She has been with me since my second year in high school, so it has been a long time. I’ll meet her. After a short walk I arrive to the beach. The sea. I have missed it. The depth, the intensity. I missed that. How long has it been? It feels like ages.

Walking over the sand with shoes is an art. Many people would get their feet completely covered by sand. In fact is almost impossible. There was only one person that would be able to walk over the sand without trouble: Grandpa. And now he is gone. The rest of the world would confront their shoes soaked in sand but I was raised here. I take off my shoes and my socks. I walk with them in my hand while drifting over the dunes.

Sue was there, beside the rocks, protected from the wind. She was radiant. The bright yellow sand contrasted with the red of her towel which in turn contrasted with her tanned skin and her orange bikini. One of her arms is raised covering her face, so the sun would not disturb her. The roaring waves, the wind, everything feels so familiar. At that time it was not Sue; it was my sweetheart, my beloved, the one that completed "we." I touch the chain around my neck, trying to capture those emotions, feel those feelings once again. But I’m unable to, what I remember are her eyes.

I approach Sue, like a hunter, trying to be unnoticed until I’m almost over her. Once there I extend my hand projecting some shade over her arm. After a few seconds she notices the change of temperature and reacts. She makes a funny face, expecting to be blinded by the sun, her eyes almost closed looking at me trying to figure what I want. Her dark brown hair dances suspended in the wind, like a lion’s mane. After a moment her dark eyes prey on me.

"Hey. How are you?"

"Fine." As ever, I’m fine, just fine. After a short pause, I add "And you?"

"Quite well. Do you want to sit or do you prefer to have a bath? The water is warm."

"The truth is that I’m not wearing a swimsuit now."

"Oh, there was a time when that was not a problem," her eyes predatorily scan my body for a moment. We only swam naked once, and normally I poke fun at her, not the other way around. "Weren’t you at home?"

For an answer I only smirk. We have known each other for a long time, she knows what my smirk means. Perhaps she knows too well what it meant:

"Did you at least know her name?"

That is mean. Of course I know her name. I’m sure that it starts with an… an E? Perhaps it is an A. It was a vowel, for sure.

"She had golden eyes."

She looks at me with a sad face. She moves like a panther, sitting over the towel. Leaving me enough space to sit by her, and invites me to sit. I sit, like a good boy. She embraces me like a tiger she pushes my body against hers. I can smell the salt all over her skin. I can almost hear the potent percussion inside her chest, the primal warm engulfing sound of her heartbeat.

"Rachel also had golden eyes."

I try to escape, to run away. I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to hear that. But I’m weak. She said the name. She said that name. Rachel. I can remember now. Her long hair dark as night without stars. Her skin white like the first snow of the season. Her eyes shining as two small suns. Her smell like a mixing of jasmine and olives. Her taste sweet and salty at the same time. A feeling of loneliness strikes my heart. Instinctively I raise a hand to my neck, to the chain that links me to my past. I gasp for air. I’m strong. I’m strong. I’m all right. I’m fine, as ever. Just fine.

Two arms embrace me tightly. They hold me. They surround me warmly. I hear a heartbeat. Pum, pum. Pum, pum. Pum, pum. Is it from Rachel? No. Rachel’s pace was different; her heart was like a tango. I can remember the first time I heard her heart.

***

We are alone, it is our first date. We have kissed so many times that it is impossible to count. My head rests over her lap while she looks over the infinite. We stay that way for a moment while she caresses my neck. She loves touching my skin with her fingers. She always says that if she were a vampire I should run from her. I would rather let her kill me. She makes me raise my head while lowering hers, and then she kisses me. My head awkwardly compressed against her chest. The only thing I can see is her dark hair falling like a cascade over me. The only thing that I can hear is her heart.

***

I look at Sue. She hugs me harder. She says it’s okay. It’s okay. Everything is fine. Don’t worry. Don’t worry.

"I’m fine."

She does not believe me. She stills hugs me like a lioness protecting her cub.

"I’m fine."

She lets go. I don’t run away. I don’t have anywhere to hide. She looks at me and tries to cheer me up.

"It’s just that you have a really sad face when anyone mentions Rachel."

I try to smile at Sue, but I have forgotten how to smile. Rachel loved my smile. She would poke me for a day only to make me smile.

"Don’t worry I won’t cry. I didn’t cry when she left, I’m fine."

"You should try to let her go. There are other women, you know that."

I have tried. When Rachel left I stayed inside myself for two months, I wouldn’t speak aloud, trying to recall her voice. After that, one day, I started hunting. There are other women, but there is no one like my woman. No one.

"I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s all right, I only feel overwhelmed sometimes."

She knows me. She knows quite well that I’m just fine. That if she pushes a little more she could break me in a manner I wouldn’t be able to stand. She looks at me, hugs me another time, just in case, and then says:

"Well aren’t you hungry? You should treat me to lunch."

We had lunch at a seafood restaurant. I have never really enjoyed seafood, but I have to admit that it has a flavor from home. First we eat some rice, and Sue explains me how is her life now, she works as an archeologist investigating some old ruins not to far from town. We finish our rice and some shrimps are served. Sue purrs of satisfaction and we continue with our chat.

After lunch we go for a walk. So many places. So many memories. It is like walking back in time. "Do you remember when Matt climbed to that tree and jumped over you?" "Do you remember when Jess and I would hide at that store so you wouldn’t be able to find us?" "Do you remember when you decided to arrive half an hour late to our meeting just to give me a lesson of punctuality?" Of course I remember, everything, well… almost everything. Well I don’t remember arriving late. But I don’t really care, I follow Sue without paying her a lot of attention.

We lose ourselves in time for the afternoon. Before we realize it the shadows were long. So we go to my apartment. Once there she advances one foot after another, tempting the ground, like a panther on the hunt. Little by little she sneaks into the kitchen and stalked the fridge. Sue caresses the handler like a cat playing with a mouse. She opens it and the white light surrounds her. Surrounded by the artificial brightness her whole silhouette is remarked. Breaking the moment she takes some milk and the apple pie that I keep for special occasions. Well, that is certainly a special occasion. With an expert hand she finds the mugs. She takes one without even looking at it.

"Sue… That’s my mug."

She blushes and I see the girl that is normally hidden below her sure personality. For a moment I see her vulnerable.

I look at Sue again the blush has disappeared from her checks, that is more like the Sue that I like. She is looking at the mug. It is an old souvenir, brought from some cheap shop. It is red and it had a message printed on it. "I miss you." Rachel gave me that mug on our first anniversary. I raise a hand to my neck. She also gave me the chain then.

Sue picks another mug. This one is purple, and has tiny white spirals painted over it. My sister bought that mug so whenever she came she would have something to drink. I don’t mind if Sue uses that, she is like a sister.

"I know that you don’t like coffee but…"

Sue loves coffee. I have never enjoyed its sour taste. But I have coffee, somewhere. I search for it for a minute before I find it, hidden behind the flour. I have not seen this package in a long time. Café de Colombia. I give it to Sue, who looks weirdly at me.

"Hers."

She understands. She opens the package carefully and with a spoon takes some of the brown powder. A mountain of coffee rises over the milk like an isle on the sea. Little by little it is engulfed by the liquid which in turn starts to turn brown. With a few turns of the spoon, Sue achieves a perfect mixing.

We sit at the kitchen table, each one of us holding our mug with the apple pie in front of us. Well, part of it. Sue is avidly eating a piece.

"You know, the first time you cooked this pie I thought that if you weren’t one of my best friends, I would fuck you?"

I knew that she loved the apple pie. But I didn’t know that she loved it that much. She finishes a slice, and takes another one. Sue doesn’t even try to cheer my up, we only eats, after a moment I join her. Sugar is good for cheering up.

When the pie is almost done Sue stands up. She disappears into the living room. Returning with a bottle. She looks like a satisfied cat plundering my mini-bar.

"Alcohol is good for cheering up!"

She leaves the bottle of Rum on the table. And almost instantly she gets two shot glasses. Then she opens the bottle and pours the golden liquid.

"What are we celebrating?"

She laughs out loudly. She gazes at my eyes with a that-you-need-a-party look.

"Better ask what are we not celebrating, we are celebrating everything! Here."

Ritualistically we would fill the glasses and empty them. Nothing else mattered. Shoot after shoot we were drawn closer.

***

"Hey I am your friend I am not going to let you alone." I raise my eyes from the table and look at her. Her mane is hold in place by a hairband. Her sparkling eyes are hidden below sunglasses. But her smile is there, as always. I reach with my hand and caress her black dress.

"I told you, I am your friend for better and for worse." She sits by my side waiting for me to make a move. I won’t I am not doing anything she would leave me alone eventually.

I feel her gaze at me. At least she was polite enough not to say "I’m sorry for your loss." But since the funeral I am in a bitter mood she should understand and leave me alone. I look in her direction, hoping her gone; she is still by my side.

"Sue, we all knew that this was going to happen. He had a terminal cancer. With time everything will go back to normal, let me alone."

How many times did I hear that? "Time" everything seem to be a matter of "time". But "time" won’t give grandpa back. And obviously time was not going to move Sue.

"What the hell do you want?"

Her hand moves faster than expected, to my hair. The hair that I expend a long time combing was now ruined.

"I want to cheer you up!"

***

As the alcohol warmed my body my memory blurred. But I am sure I keep drinking and Sue kept filling my glass.

***

The bus seems lost in time, I can‘t tell what is outside the window even what time is it. The other passengers are no more than shadows surrounded by dust completely formless. I can’t even tell if they are there. But is a bus and there should be passengers, even if only one passenger matters.

Rachel eats M&M’s by my side. Her hair curled in black waves falls like a cascade over her shoulders covering lightly her skin. Actually from my point of view I could see quite a lot of her skin, she is wearing a sleeveless t-shirt with a generous cleavage. I look at her breasts for a moment. They are like sweet pears fitted to the size of my hand, neither too big neither too small. I keep looking visualizing her small black mole over her right breast her nipples, her areolas, the left one slightly bigger than the right.

"Do you want an M&M?"

I raise my view from her breast, and for a moment I consider that right now I would prefer to bring another thing to my mouth.

"Sure."

She looks at the package, keeping it open. She checks every M&M considering its color, counting how many she has left of every kind. After a second she asks.

"What color would you like?"

I smile at her. Her golden eyes are covered by curls of her dark hair. Whenever her eyes are covered like that I couldn’t help myself but to think of the sun hidden behind dark clouds. With my hand I arrange her hair behind her ears, much better.

"Red M&M, blue M&M, I don’t really mind, they are all chocolate."

She takes a red M&M and holds it between her fingers. She raises it and examines it, like searching for any impurities. I approach her in order to take it when she moves it away. She puts into her mouth and holds it between her lips, a red stain marks where her saliva contacts the caramel cover. She reaches for me and kisses me. I correspond to the kiss biting lightly her lower lip. She raises a hand and caresses my hair. Our lips separate for a second, grasping air, before joining back. I embrace her tightly making the distance between us shorter. Her hand plays with my hair combing it with her fingers. We finish our kiss slowly savoring each other. We stay embraced. The now mouthwatering M&M’s bag pressed between our entangled bodies. She kisses me again, more lightly. She puts her head over my shoulder biting tenderly my naked neck.

***

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. My head hurts. I blink. I want to go back to the dream. There was no headache and there was Rachel. I try harder. I am almost asleep now, dream here I come!

I try to visualize the scene. But I can’t remember where we were the only thing that comes to me is my imagination showing me glimpses of Rachel. After a while I give, get, up.

I am naked, except for the necklace. There are clothes in the floor, but not mine. They are Sue's. What the hell did we did yesterday? I can’t remember but my imagination quickly fills the gap. Blushing I get my pajama pants from the closet.

I go to the kitchen. If I know Sue, and I assure you I know Sue, she is at the kitchen. When I approach the room an electric guitar tune reaches my ears. There is Sue, dancing and singing while a pan stands over the oven. She is wearing my dark purple shirt that fits her like a dress. Under it I can get glimpses of one of my black boxers. She sees me and comes to meet me like a hunting panther. With every footstep one of her buttons goes away, revealing more and more of her tanned skin below the shirt. When she is by my side she embraces me tight.

"I was made for loving you baby. You was made for loving me. I haven’t had enough of you baby. Have you had enough of me?"

While singing the huntress presses her body against the prey. One of her hand goes directly to my butt making my escape impossible. Her lips approach mine. I can taste the air that escapes her lungs. And then, she says.

"Is that a wallet in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

Truth be said I’m happy to see her and I don’t wear my wallet in my pajama’s pocket. I look at the pan and quickly reach for it, trying to get away from Sue. She was cooking some pancakes and almost burnt them. I rescue the pancakes without paying her any attention. After a moment trying to separate the cake from the pan she tends me a dish. The shirt is buttoned again, and she smirks at me.

The pancakes are served and we have breakfast and a small chat. A small chat that is interrupted by a violin tune. "My phone." Says Sue. I look at Sue, she seems troubled. She leaves the kitchen and goes back to the bedroom. I follow her. She takes the phone, that laid forgotten under the bed. She frowns like she just awake from a dream.

"Rachel’s."

I smile shyly at her. I leave the room and close the door behind that now looks like a Vault. I stare at the door with mixed feelings. I would like to hear the conversation but I fear that it is something private between them. Perhaps Rachel was asking Sue the recipe for pancakes. Perhaps she was telling her that she missed me as much as I miss her. Perhaps…

A piece of paper flips below the door. I unfold it and see the letters on it. "She is coming to the city. Should she phone you?" Should she? I touch my chain asking for advice. I really would like to see her but I don’t think it would do us any good. For the longest heartbeats in my life I stand in front of the door wearing my pajamas and my chain thinking. Lastly I open the door and look at her doubtful.

I cannot read Sue’s face, her eyes blaze me but she smiles. While staring at me she says "I’m sure that she would love to know from you, but I think a text would do. You know how much he dislikes being at the phone." After that Sue laughs. Rachel pulled a joke on me… I take my phone and leave for the kitchen and try to forget about the conversation gulping the pancakes with milk.

Later Sue comes to me. She seems worried.

"Are you sure you want to meet her?"

"I am sure that if I don’t meet her now I would be regretting it forever."

My phone beeps: The show must go on! I got a new message. From Rachel.

"Hey baby what’s up? I have a concert today. In the old theater, you know? I don’t know if I would be able to meet you after it, but I would like to see you."

Flashes of Rachel holding a Stradivarius comes quickly to my mind. Different musical pieces erupt into my ears. I can recall almost every concert. Hearing an ode to joy in my head I walk to my desk. I open the drawer and take an old postcard. The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt. I look at the paint for a moment then flip the paper. For a moment I look at the writing there, old hand writing, every line pressed against each other, with almost no margin at all, some words are stroked and in some places there are marks like some sort of liquid had fall in the battered postcard. There is no date. There is no stamp. That postcard was never sent. I touch the chain around my neck, finding comfort for a moment and put the postcard into my pocket. I look at Sue, who is still wearing my shirt and my boxers, and say.

"We need to get you some clothes."

***

That night we stand in front of the auditorium. There is not a big crowd in there. Not a lot of people are interested in classic music nowadays. I am not even really into it, I prefer rock actually. Rock from the late eighties or nineties, or even some modern. Mostly vocalic songs, songs that you are able to sing for hours. The only fond memories of classic music are from my childhood. When on every January First I would awake early and run to the TV. Grandpa would already be there, with a mug of hot cacao waiting for me. If the cacao was cold I was late. We would sit there, both of us drinking cacao and listening to the concert. Then at the Radetzky March we would clap following the rhythm. Clapping the Radetzky March meant "goodbye past, hello present". I have never missed one of those concerts. Sometimes I would be alone or at an after party at someone’s house but I would never miss that concert.

When Rachel and I were together we would watch the concert, dance the Blue Danube and make plans to go to Vienna. Rachel really loved music. She was scared of planes but she would try to overcome that fear only if she could go to Vienna. We never went to Vienna. Well, I went to Vienna, alone and being there without Rachel was almost unbearable. There was the last time that I heard to classic music, except for the new year’s concert.

And now here I am. With Sue seated in a theater. And there she is. With her Stradivarius seated in the scenario. It is weird. I thought that when I would be able to see her again her eyes won’t be so bright or her hair so dark. I was wrong she is still herself. There are changes, of course, her face is slightly longer than I remember, she has also lost some weight. But Rachel is Rachel. She chats with the violinist standing next to her. "Have you seen the guy in the seventh row? He is here for me. I love him." Of course, I am not hearing what they are saying, but I always imagine things.

The conductor arrives to the scenario. Everyone claps. Everyone but me when I realize that he now stands just between me and Rachel. I listen to Brahms’ Symphony No. 2 only having glimpses of Rachel. When it ends everyone claps, and I am starting to think about getting a rifle and kill the conductor. Sue presses my hand, like she can smell my anger, I look at her and for a moment Sue fills everything. Then she smiles and moves her gaze towards the concert.

The concert takes about two hours with some glimpse of Rachel. At the end the conductor would stand and leave its place and there she is. Dressed in black. With her eyes glowing so bright that for a moment I think its noon.

-The next piece is a very important piece for a dear friend. He used to say that it meant "goodbye past, hello present." For now forget about the past, raise your hands and feel the music.

I almost cry when the Radetzky March starts. The conductor looks at the public and makes them stand and starts clapping his hands. Everyone in the room claps. I am transported over the tune in the most enjoyable three minutes and a half that I can remember.

The concert ends. Everyone claps. Everyone leaves. I stand there for a moment with Sue looking at Rachel and her Stradivarius. After a moment Rachel gets down from the scenario and starts to walk to the exit. Sue says something, but my whole attention is focused in Rachel. I start to walk towards her. We meet.

She looks at me smiling with her lips and her eyes. She waves a hand in a hi. But I cannot help myself to run to her and embrace her tight not wanting to let her go. I notice her smell a mix of jasmine and olives. Then I say.

"I have missed you. How long has it been?"

"Three years, four months, twelve days and… What time is it? Well it doesn’t mater, I missed you to baby. How are you?"

"Fine." I realize that it is true. I am really fine. She looks at Sue trying to confirm my words. When Sue nods she says.

"You better take care of him, Sue."

Then we are interrupted by other musicians. It seems that they are going to a restaurant to have dinner. Rachel says that it is important to her to go. That if we want we can go with her. For a moment I am seduced by the idea but I know myself. I would try to kiss her and I would ruin everything. It is clear to me know that we still love each other, but we have to move on. I have been trying to move on for three years, four months and twelve days. I have had my share of women. Actually I have had more than my share of women. I look at Rachel. I take the postcard from my pocked and hand it to her.

"This is from Vienna, goodbye Rachel."

I turn myself and start walking away it takes all my willpower to not turn back and run to Rachel and kidnap her but she has her life and I have mine. Our path separated a long time ago. I stop for a moment at the exit of the theater. I raise my hands to the chain around my neck and unlock it. I examine the tiny silver chain and I put it into my pocket. Sue catches me there. We left the theater and walking through the street I smile at her and say.

"Let’s go home."