The Ginger Fox (Part 1)

- What is it that you see?

- They seem like eyes, gleaming in the dark.

- Maybe a cat.

- Or a fox…

- Let’s get closer.

- Oh. It’s a fox. I love foxes.

- You’re crazy. Who’d love foxes? They’re scary.

- Well, I do. They’re cute.

- Yeah, right.

I don’t like being chased. I don’t think that fox likes it either. The poor animal was busy on its hunting and trying to catch its prey and we were chasing it, out of sheer curiosity, disturbing the natural order of things.  It was our obligation to feed the poor animal, after all.

I went inside and grabbed a piece of meat from the fridge and threw it to the bush where the canid was hidden and waited. Not too long afterwards, I heard the characteristic snap and the movement of the foliage. It had probably gotten the compensation gift I offered.

I smiled, feeling kind of relieved.

- Let’s get back inside. He’ll be ok now.

***

I walked down the staircase to the hall of the building, as I used to do most of the times, every day. Working on the second floor was a good reason to avoid using the lifts and an excuse to exercise my legs.

As I opened the door and stepped outside I noticed there was a man standing at the bus stop nearby. He was busy with his phone and did not look at me straight away. He was in his mid-thirties, at least. His shaved face, pale skin and ginger hair called my attention, so I looked at him for a longer while. He probably noticed I was staring at him, so he lifted his eyes and looked at me.

His deep green eyes pierced my stare like two sharp arrows. I felt a pinch in my stomach, but I could not look away. He smiled lightly, as if he was used to cause that type of reaction, in a land where most of the people were dark haired. 

I tried to smile, but was unsuccessful. He, on the other hand, found it funny and smiled again. The bus stopped and he hopped in. To my surprise, as the vehicle moved away, he looked out of the window, as if to be certain I was still there. I was… staring at him in absolute awe and smiling foolishly.

***

I decided I had to check if he was always there to catch the bus at the same time. When I could I would go downstairs at the approximately the same time just to be sure he was there. For a long time I did the same and I never happened to see him again. I was so disappointed.

With time, I forgot almost all about it and went back to my normal life. It was an illusion; a sweet ginger illusion and I had to get over it as soon as I could… sadly…

***

- Why did you do that?

- Because I wanted to know more about the one who was always looking at me with such interest.

- You’re funny.

- Maybe I am. I don’t think you regretted my actions.

- Of course not. On the contrary.

- “I walk alone”…

- I know. I thought I was being stalked.

- Well, in a way, you were.

- You’re right. I should have called the Police. There were so many policemen around, anyway…

I looked at him. He was just waiting for my reaction. Then he burst into laughter.

I wanted to punch him, but he just held my wrists and pulled me into his arms, in a tight embrace and, when I was not fighting anymore, he smiled and kissed me… a long and zealous kiss which stopped me from doing anything but kissing him back with a passion I knew I had for a long time already, probably since the day I first saw him standing at the bus station, pretending he was busy with his cell phone, when he was really watching me staring at him.

I thought to myself: ‘was it really I who seduced him, or was it the other way around?’

- You’re so obvious, my dear. I knew what you wanted from the first time I saw you staring at me.

‘How could he know what I was thinking about?’

- I am obvious. I cannot pretend I don’t want you, when you’re the only one in my mind all the time.

- How sweet.

He smiled. It just came to my mind the recollection of when and why I fell for him. That smile was a killer then. It’s a killer still, after all this time.

***

The 600 bus just stopped in front of the building. For some strange unexplainable reason I had the impetus of jumping on, before any idea did really come to my mind. He was still at the door and did not look back. I was so close to him I could smell his perfume.

He sat on the back seat. I looked around, pretending not to see where he was, trying to find a place where I could watch the back of the bus. I wanted him to know I was there, but I did not want him to think I was there because of him, so I pretended not to notice where he was. I saw when he stood up close to the main station downtown.

‘Easy’, I thought.  A busy station would not be suspicious, as most of the people were also standing up to leave the bus at the same place. He came closer and got ready to leave. I stood up. He looked back and our eyes met.

In fact, our eyes locked.  I could not look away and he was staring at me, as serious as he could be. He was right. I should have known better. I was stalking him and he knew it. The bus stopped and he left. I followed, but was ashamed and stopped on the sidewalk, staring at my feet. I wanted to die.

Decided to stop that nonsense, I looked around, just to go the opposite direction, in case he was still observing me. When I turned around and started walking down to São Bento, as he was looking to the other side, I felt my chest hurt in sorrow. I was a fool.  A few steps further down the street, feeling like the worst person on Earth, someone bumped my arm, when walking down the same direction as if in a hurry. I did not pay attention to who it was. I was feeling so sad, I had tears in my eyes.

- Are you stalking me?

- Uh?

And now this. So embarrassing. What do I say?

- Uh. No. Why would I?

- You’ve been following me.

I could not look at his face, but I would not lie, either.

- I’m sorry.

- For?

I looked up at his face. He was staring at me again and he was still serious. I wanted to disappear. He moved one step further toward me. I thought he was going to punch me right there in front of all the people. I raised my head and waited.

- What are you sorry for, after all?

- For causing you the sensation of being stalked.

- You don’t seem to be the dangerous type of stalker.

- Oh. Thank you very much. That’s so very kind of you.

Sarcasm goes a long way.

- Can I compensate this awkward situation with a coffee? A coffee can mend so many things… I’m really sorry.

His bright green eyes were seriously fixed on mine. I froze.

***