Homeward (Final Part)

I closed my eyes. He just pushed the speed pedal down harder and went up the ramp. I heard the noise of something being hit and the sound of breaking glass and the man blaring his curses against us.

I screamed in shock and fear. The rain fell heavy and hard on the car when we hit the street.

- We’re OK now. He was quick to jump aside.

- Where did he come from, for heaven’s sake? Was he stalking us?

- I don’t know…

- Fuck! I’m really terrified now.

- Calm down. We’ll be home soon.

- We should have called the police… a long time ago!

- We didn’t think it was necessary at the time. Maybe we should now.

- We must!

***

- What are you doing? Let me go!

- Say you’re going to have a coffee with me.

- You’re scaring me. Leave me alone… please…

He held me tighter in his grip. His eyes were like the ones of a madman. I tried to push him away, but he was stronger than me. Then he pulled me closer and showed me a knife. I could feel how strong he was by the way he held me, but I would not move an inch away anyway.

And then it happened so quickly…

***

- What if it did not happen?

- You could be dead by now or…

- I know… I owe you…

- You owe me nothing. I’m glad I was there.

- I will never be able to thank you enough. You were so quick and acted like a true hero.

- I just acted by instinct. And I am so glad I was there at the moment I saw him forcing the situation. When I noticed he had a knife, I just could not help but interfere. You were in danger. But it was risky, although I never thought it was, before later on. He could have killed you… or us. But he was a coward in the end, anyway. He ran away as soon as he was unarmed.

- And then you threw his knife so far away into the sea. It was like throwing the situation away from us. And then now he comes back into our lives. Why?

- I have no clear idea. But it’s known that he’s been following you since the day you almost bumped into him at your door. And he probably have not overcome the day I kicked his ass off. Revenge is, maybe, what he wants now. Let the police deal with him from this point on.

***

The police could do nothing in terms of security, as there was no evidence that we had been threatened by that man. It was us who tried to run over him, so he could have sued us for the attempt of murder, if he wanted to. Justice would not protect us in any case.

We decided we would have to protect ourselves on our own account and our safety and that could lead to extreme measures.

For some time, we were not threatened by him or anyone else though. He simply disappeared for long. We were still being careful, but not paranoid anymore, almost relaxing and coming back to our normal lives, wishing we were blessed by fortune.

***

- Are you photosynthesizing?

He laughed. With his face turned to the morning sun, he seemed to be having so much pleasure in that. He was shirtless, showing off his shaped torso. His hair was shining as was his pale skin. His eyes were as blue as the sky above us. I praised the summer for that lovely vision and thought of a Greek god… Apollo, maybe, for his fiery hair and beard, and…

He noticed my almost discreet smile and I assumed he was reading my mind.

- I think I am. It feels so good. It’s so good being home.

- I totally agree. Take this…

He knew I was playing with words, so he just accepted, smiling, the cup of fresh coffee I was offering him. We sat outside, listening to the sounds of birds chirping and the running water of the stream by the back of the house. It was a relaxing Sunday morning and we were enjoying the company of each other.

After the nice breakfast we had in the backyard, we decided to go for a walk in the woods before lunchtime. It was a pleasant morning and we wanted to enjoy it the best we could. Being in the woods would be fresher and we would not be exposed to direct sun. We knew our skins would get sunburned easily, even with the protection of sun lotion.

It took us about two hours to come back home. As we were getting closer to the gate I noticed his face changed.

- Did we leave the gate that open?

- I don’t think so…

- Shit! Be careful. Stay here. I will check this out.

I tried to protest, but it was of worthless. He was very serious and I knew why.

- Stay here. Keep the phone. We might have to call for help.

- Who…?

He crossed the gate and went inside. I waited out of the gate, as he told me to, but my mind was so apprehensive I could not think.

I heard him shout. I heard him shout again and then silence. Strange sounds.

‘Was that a fight? What the hell?’

My heart sank when I realised what was going on.

- Oh, no! Oh, no!

I heard a thud and then a shot.

- Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!

I crossed the gate without thinking clearly. I felt as if my heart was in my mouth. Then I saw the worst vision I could at that moment.

The blood was still running fresh and sticky on the brownish tiles of the porch.

The two bodies were still on the floor. I knew the man who was on top of him… both bodies motionless.

Then I screamed. The body on top rolled over to the side.

- He came out from the house with my gun in his hand... and we fought… and…

- What? How? Are you…?

He was covered in blood but it was not his.

- Call the police! I just killed the guy!

- Oh, my goodness. This is horrible! We are so fucked! What do we do now? What are we supposed to do now? The police will not believe us…

- Don’t panic! Call the police! Now!

- And what if…

- For fuck’s sake! Call them! Now!!!

***

Home

They say “home

Is where your heart is”;

What I can truly say is:

You have a home in my chest,

In my mind

And in my soul;

A place you can,

Always,

Come back to,

When you feel homesick and tired,

Or need to be

Embraced

And kissed,

To feel safe…

And warm…

And, above all,

… Being cherished and esteemed…

(Dizem que "o lar
É onde está teu coração";
O que eu posso dizer, 
Verdadeiramente,
É que terás, sempre,
Um lar no meu peito,
Na minha mente
E na minha alma;
Um lugar, para onde 
Podes, sempre, 
Voltar,
Quando sentires saudades
De casa,
Ou cansaço,
Ou, até, necessidade de um abraço
E um beijo, 
De segurança
E calor,
Mas, acima de tudo, 
De amor e grande estima...).

One More Night (Part 1)

- This is at least the fifth time you hear this same song in a row…

- Yeah. I know.

- What’s up?

- Nothing…. that really matters.

- Yeah. Right. If you need something, just tell me so. I’m heading to bed.

- OK.

I did not turn around. My mind was too busy contemplating the immense and dark void ahead of my eyes, to an invisible line beyond the horizon, where the ocean met the starry pitch-black firmament.

The night was fresh and quiet and it was quite enjoyable to stay by the shore. It was late and there was almost no noise on the streets of the neighbourhood. A strange silence embraced me with its cold arms, chilling me up and giving me goose bumps. I shivered, but I knew it was not because of the cold.

The song started again. The singer’s strong and pungent voice filled my senses and hit me like an ice stalactite falling from the dark and gloomy ceiling of a cave, into the calm waters of a lagoon, rippling the surface and hitting the deep unscathed darkness.

How many mysteries and secrets can be hidden below that apparently quiet and undefaced surface?

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, diving into my own well of thoughts. Each word of that song was serving as a background to a kaleidoscopic sequence of images which brought my past back to the present with a cruel and vivid emotional distinctness.

…” They say that love can move a mountain
    They say love can break your heart 
   They say love can make you forget 
   Things that happened in the past” …  (*)

(*) One more night with you : Ged McMahon featuring Kaz Hawkins

If those words were true, I had never experienced anything that could be close to those emotions… so far…

***

I touched the scar with my fingertips, as if caressing a dear pet.

It is incredible how we get used to wounds left in our bodies and souls and we tend to touch them every time we feel weak, as if it would give us some comfort or lessen the pain or our so protected solitude. It is the same as petting our errors, giving them a more condescending view. It is like trying to protect our hearts from the consequences of our sins, hoping for a chance and opportunity to have our souls saved.

…”So wave goodbye to heaven for me

  I've thrown it all away

 Just to spend one more night with you”…(*)

- Are you still like that?

- Like what?

- You know. I’m not a child anymore. You don’t need to try and fool me…

- I know.

My hands swept the piano keys, lightly, perhaps trying instinctively to forget those chords that had kept on hammering my mind for weeks already.

I read somewhere someday that the piano keys denote our feelings. The white represent the good emotions and the black, the pain and the bad sensations. The harmony, however, comes from the balance between them. You cannot make good music without playing both, as life cannot be fully and truly lived without the balance between the good and the bad emotions.

- You should play the song up to the last chord. It’s the best way to exorcize the pain away forever and for good.

I looked at her in awe. She was a very wise young woman. So I played it. Not necessarily to exorcize anything, but to feel the pain as alive as if it were being felt for the first time at that very moment.

I played the beginning of the song as a nocturne, with my fingers gently stroking the white keys and slightly touching the black ones, as if I was caressing my soul and its pain. The music took my body and emotion and my voice, weak at the beginning, became like a cry filled with melancholy, a blues feeling, with all my nerves reacting to the sequence of notes and chords… and words. My eyes and my soul overflowed…

…” They say that love can last forever
    They say love can last a day 
    They say love is like an ocean 
    For us to sail away” … (*)

I was going down to the bottom of the well, to get the impulse and go back to the surface. I needed to go to the bottom of the bottom or else I would never come back with strength enough to overcome the pain.

***

- Was it here?

- Yes.

- Let’s walk down there.

- No, we won’t.

- Yes, we will. Come with me.

She led the way before I could even answer or protest, descending the path from the top of the sea cliff. My stomach ached. I followed in silence. That foot track was not safe and I had to keep close to her just in case, although I knew there was no real reason to worry about.

When we reached the bottom of the trail, the white sandy beach was invitingly tempting, even though it was still early spring. The ocean roared, like a beast trying to threaten us. I did not feel intimidated, though. I was born on the island, so I always faced the sea as a comrade, not a foe. You should respect, but never fear a true old friend.

We walked along the shore for a while, with our feet in the chilly waters and our heads worried only with our own individual thoughts. A group of noisy seagulls were flying over our heads and the wind blew almost fiercely against our faces.

- It was an accident, wasn’t it?

- Yes, it was… an unhappy accident.

- Did you two love each other very much?

I did not think about it.

- We were very good friends, since our school days.

- This is not an answer.

- I know. It’s not.

She looked at me with that ‘questioning the truth’ look knowing that there was no truth to be revealed anymore.

- Then why did you two decide to have a child, after all?

- Because she wanted it. It was the best decision to have a child from that respectful relationship we had, than waiting for a love that would never come. She was a very practical woman. She knew we would love and respect the child above it all.

- And you never regretted that decision?

- Of course not! Why would we?

- Don’t know… there was no love…

- It was a very wise decision, based on true respect and care. She was afraid of getting old and never being able to become a mother. She wanted it so dearly. You know what women are like…

- Haha… Yeah, right!

We laughed out loud. My pale smile could not hide the awkwardness of having to tell her the same thing for the millionth time.

- Do you think you two were happy?

- Perhaps, before the…

- It’s odd…

- What?

- Your relationship. The illness. The accident.

- It’s not odd. The accident was caused by the disease.

- But you too could have died.

- I don’t think so. I fell down when I tried to help her… I was so clumsy…

- The scar is big.

- The pain is bigger!

She shut it up. The sea seemed to explode against the rocks. She walked away in silence for a while, then she turned around to face me. She squinted her eyes as if trying to see better something that was behind me. For a moment I felt a shadow crossing her face.

- Dad?

- What?

- Is that him on top of the cliff?

- Uh? What the hell is he doing up there?

***

The Ginger Fox (Part 2)

The wind blew through us, making his hair swirl like a volcano spitting red burning lava. I felt a chill going down my spine. He was still staring at me. My body was getting too stiff, when he spoke:

- A coffee and nothing else?

I nodded affirmatively.

- Uh-hum…

- Why not?

- OK.

- By the way, I’m Roidh.

I relaxed a little bit.

- Roy?

He giggled. I blushed, feeling relieved by his sweet tranquillity. I raised my hand to shake his, still trembling. He felt it, as he held my hand firmly in his.

I told him my name. He just smiled.

There was a hoarding on part of the street and sidewalk, with tall wooden boards, so we had to walk around it. On one of the larger vertical boards there was a stencilled graffiti depicting a fox. The graffiti was very well done and I really liked it.

- This is so beautiful. I love foxes.

- Foxes are scary.

- They are not.

He looked at me and smirked.

- Coffee, right?

- Sure!

***

The Cafe was busy, as most of the times we went there. The waiter smiled when we got in. We had a favourite table by the window and he knew our preference. There was a reserved sign on top of the white linen cloth. We were celebrating. He knew that.

We sat down and the waiter left us alone for a while, to choose our favourite items from the familiar Menu. 

- This is still so amazing. Here we are again in the fanciest Café in town… like the first time…

He smiled. His face was now covered with a thick ginger beard, which made him look even more handsome than before. I was so evidently charmed, I could not stop looking at him.

- How can you still be so charming after all these years?

- Oh. It’s a natural thing on me being a charming and sexy ginger, after all.

- Says who?

- Says I… and you too…

He laughed out loud, as he did that first time, when I told him, while drinking from the small cup of coffee, how sexy I thought ginger men were and how attracted to him I was from the first moment.

- You were so daring and so deliciously crazy. I was really shocked by that statement. I had always been bullied for being a ginger and I really hated being one. But then you come into my life and celebrate that fact as if I were a special gift sent from Heaven.

- My sweet ginger dream man, you are special.

He smiled and changed subject. He hated the demonstration of affection in public as he loathed that mellow conversation.

- Can I have two slices of toast with butter, please? And a macchiato.

The waiter was smiling. He had heard part of the conversation and probably thought it was funny.

- Same for me, please.

When the waiter left, I asked:

- Are we getting fancy?

- With bread and butter? I don’t think so!

We both laughed.

***

 “She thinks life is water

And love, love is a river” *(It’s only Mystery – Eric Serra)

- Close your eyes. Accept that you’re loved.

His hands were warm and his soft touch on my eyelids made me utterly believe how loved I really was. He kissed my front and my closed eyes. I smiled lightly. He kissed my lips, very softly and slowly.

- I hate to see you crying.

- I try not to. You’re so sweet, lover of mine.

He laid on top of me, his legs around mine and his arms and hands around my head with his body heating mine up. He just kissed me over and over again, silently, carefully, affectionately. I surrendered completely to him and to his loving touch… and not only. He took advantage of that… for as long as he could, for as long as I could stand without exploding in a wave of warm pleasure…

***

- You know we are together for such a long time.

- Amazing, isn’t it?

- It is indeed.

- I hope you’re not regretting anything.

- I’m not. Ever. I promise.

- Then, what?

- I think we should do something different. We must celebrate. It’s been such a long time and we deserve this.

- Celebrate? We don’t need to.

- But we must. Who cares if we don’t need to? We can, so we must!

He smiled.

- And you probably know already how.

- Well, I have a suggestion.

- Which is?

- A romantic long weekend in Vienna, perhaps.

- Oh. Are we getting fancy, after all?

- Think about it. No gifts, no worries… just a free weekend, away from everything but fun… and cultural beauty… and us, of course…

He smiled again. I loved when he did: that meant acceptance and that would be a great time away from our normal lives and daily affairs and chores.

***

The city was still waking up when we got to the station and walked into the Café to have something to eat and drink a hot cappuccino. We loved walking the streets early in the morning. It was fresh, like all autumn mornings could be. The leaves were turning into a colourful explosion of every tonality of red, yellow, orange and brown; a feast to the eyes of every soul enchanted with beauty.

Those colours had everything to do with him, his skin and his hair. I’ve never realised I loved the autumnal colours for that reason. I was looking outside and smiling to myself when he giggled.

- What are you thinking about? You’re smiling…

- I’m just happy we are here.

In a short while after that, doors were opening and closing one after the other in a frenzy rhythm that announced the place was alive again and totally ready for one more working day.

We were all set for exploring the city, walking its streets and visiting its autumnal fallen leaves covered parks and boardwalks. I was happy… I was really happy to be there. But most of all I was happy because I was there with him.

He was looking at me. No, he was staring at me… seriously. His face was suddenly grave, his eyes a little different from his normal. He noticed I thought something was happening by his silence. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.

- What is it?

- We need to talk…

***