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By Juanita
The prom starts soon and I did not even get dressed, shit, I'm very late, I'm sure mom will knock on the door wondering why the hell I'm taking so long time to get ready, but I still cannot get myself hurrying. I breathe deeply, anxious and insecure, staring at the girl reflected in the mirror: the long blue mermaid satin dress, fit me well, despite revealing more than I would like, unlike my high school classmates, thin, with their soft and youthful shape,in spite of my young age, fifteen, my body blossomed like a rose in the spring... a woman's body: full and full breasts, thin waist, wide hips and annoyingly bulging buttocks. I can almost hear the vulgarities of the idiot basketball players talking shamelessly as they watch me pass in the school hallway:
“Oh, what a hot “chica”, I'd fuck those breasts all night.” - Larry said to Mark forcing a Latin accent, in a jocular tone.
"And I'd just fuck that steely ass."
In situations like this, frequent since my forms have appeared, I lower my head so that they do not perceive my embarrassment, through my red face and I flee, without looking back, as fast as I can. I did not want to go to this party, but it is my high school graduation, and for my mom, a humble Cuban housekeeper, it is a great victory, a historic day. I am distracted for a few seconds, looking at my refuge, the pale yellow walls, the bedside table adorned by a violet vase, my single bed covered with a quilt in delicate floral print, everything in my way, simple, feminine , romantic, and I think that here is the place that I really feel comfortable, surrounded by my period romances, which I read before going to bed every night, not in a noisy party, full of drunken boys full of bad intentions and snobbish girls who do not even pretend that they take on the presence of a Hispanic housekeeper daughter. However,despitenot feelingexciting about going to events like this, to rejoice Mrs. Maria Gonzales, my mother, who fought so hard to raise me, I will go to that terrible party. I have always been grateful to the generosity of my mother's bosses, Mr and Mrs Grayson, for having got me a scholarship from the Henrietta Barnett School, one of the best private schools in London. However, in spite of the fact I feel really welcome in the place where I live, I'm an outcast in high school, in the eyes of most of the other students, I'm just a miserable Hispanic who insists on not knowing my place. The flowers embroidered at the neckline, even showing my breasts, gave the dress a delicate air, simple. I brush my long, wavy hair a little quickly, and then I try to finish the makeup, spreading a soft blush on my cheeks, and before I can get a lipstick on, mom knocks on the door and walks into my bedroom complaining about my delay.
––––––––
MURMULLO
By Liam
My name is Liam H. Greyson, the "H" of my name means Hernandez, yes, I am Cuban, but today, after becoming a genial businessman, Rail Europe's majority partner, one of the biggest train companies in the world, quoted several times in Forbes magazine, married to a London’s high society woman, to be accepted socially, I ridiculously abbreviate my name, hiding my Cuban descent.
Today I am tired: from my exhausting work, my fake marriage, my lonely nights, but I am glad as soon as I set foot at home and I smell the pabelon creole[5] that exudes from the kitchen, reaching the hall. And like a starving dog, I follow the scent by licking my lips. I open the kitchen door and find Juanita singing quietly "Candela," a classic of Cuban salsa, her hips curl up from side to side in an involving ballet.
I raise my eyes by his shapely legs, her thick thighs tanned by the Cuban sun, and her long, curly hair falling above his roundly mesmerizing buttocks is an invitation to sin.
I have known her all my life, her mother was my parents’ cook and today she cooks for me, we were raised, despite the age and social differences, as friends, but since she stopped being a girl and became a woman, I've never slept in peace again... Juanita, with her sweet voice, her fleshy lips always in a carmine lipstick, and her jealous way, is the culprit of my sleepless nights.
Juanita turns in my direction and I smile embarrassed because she saw me undressingher with my eyes.
“Good evening Juanita, what do we have for dinner?” - I ask like a fool, already knowing what the dinner is, just to hear a little more of his voice that tells me seriously:
"Pabelon Creole, Mr. Liam, but if you want, I can quickly prepare another dish."
“No way, I love everything you do, especially your pabelon, but please, stop calling me Mr., you know I do not like it, and for you to redeem yourself from this serious fault, I want you to eat with me.
"But Mr., I mean, you're my boss, Liam, it does not look good."
"It's not good for me to eat alone.”
"Mrs. Sarah..."
"Traveling as usual, Aspen, Paris, God knows where she is now, so let’s eat, I'm starving."
The pabelon was delicious, as ever, we had dinner in a delicious, nostalgic atmosphere, Juanita remembers her fifteenth birthday dance that I was her partner and she laughed, I just love the sound of her laugh. I smile discreetly, inebriated by her curled red lips, her white teeth, and she stops smiling, staring at me in shame.
“What happened, Liam?”
“Nothing, I was just admiring your smile, forgive me, I did not want to embarrass you.”
We had a glass of wine, one more, and then another one, like or when, we do not know, but now, at this moment, Juanita and I dance, both barefoot, enjoying each second of Murmullo, a song by Ibrahim Ferrer. My nose looks for the smell of her neck, she turns her head giving me more access to her bare skin, she shakes her head saying we drank too much, but we both know it's not wine, it's years of a silent love, silenced by the abyss that we imposedto one another.
I always noticed her eyes looking at me and I know she always knew I wanted her, but life, and my ambition to reach the top, made me forget my roots and what really made me happy... Juanita was one of these things in my life. My lips search for hers and when I found them, a myriad of feelings takes us and snatches us, we kiss in a fury, in an unprecedented surrender, her tongue provokes me and I bite her lips... We climb the stairs without separating our lips,taking off our clothes, and the differences that kept us apart lie on the ground and, like a wild beast, I possess the body of the only woman I have ever loved in my life... Juanita Gonzales. We wake up in a tangle of thighs and bare skin, Juanita covers her face with her hand, embarrassed and I smile like an idiot, I'm too happy, I feel loved and too complete to feel guilty. I give her a kiss and she tries to get out of bed, but I do not allow it.
“Juanita, yesterday you promised that you would not feel guilty, I want you, and you always wanted me. It’s not fair to feel guilty for something so beautiful that we feel.”
"It’s because you're married to Liam, that's not right.”
"What is wrong is to live a life of lies. I'm tired of building, hoarding and not living... I want to be happy and I want it to be with you, my princess.”
"What do you mean, Liam?"
"It’s not about what I want; I'm telling you I'm going to ask Sarah for a divorce as soon as she arrives."
How will I convince Sarah, who is always worriedabout social appearances, to accept the divorce? Honestly, I do not know, but I will not let the happiness escape of my hands, no more...
And now
It's all right
You left
To see other views
And my heart, though
It pretends to make a thousand trips,
Keeps beating, standing
In that station
(Meryl & Peter)
When Peter's ex-boss, Dr. Costardi, called me, saying the surprise, and everything that had happened after the incident in Sud, I did not think twice, I told him my plans and my need to hire a Detective to confirm the truth of the facts.
"I know of a person who might be able to help you with what you need, but my name cannot be said in this story, Mrs. Chapman. My brother was a US Special Forces soldier and a few years ago he started working as a detective, but the methods and means he uses to do his work are sometimes a little out of the way, as you do not want to conduct this situation by legal means, I believe he is the ideal person to do this job for you.”
To persuade Gianlucca Costardi to accept this work was an arduous task, but indispensable for me to achieve my goals. One day after my proposal, I was thrilled when I answered your call and I heard him say:
"Two hundred thousand dollars, in cash.Half now and the other half on the delivery day.”
"Yes, how can I hand you the money today?"
"Central Park, at nine o'clock, do not worry, I'll find you."
How Gianlucca came close to me without my noticing, I do not know, I only noticed his presence when he sat next to me and asked for the package.
I looked at him slowly, even though he was wearing a cap on his head, there was no denying that he really was a handsome man, hisgreenish brown eyes were very bright, and his thin, athletic body was hidden beneath a shabby jeans and a black t-shirt.
He quickly checked the package and then took out a cell phone from a backpack that he carried on his back and handed it to me, explaining it with his greenish and very serious eyes on mine.
"I will personally go to Haiti to do this work, if the information you received is confirmed, I will arrange to meet you in London, with all the necessary documentation for you to travel to Italy, are you really determined to go to Florence?"
- Yes, I have a property there.
Before saying goodbye, he put the money in his backpack and said, at last:
"I'm goingto Haiti tomorrow, and as soon as I get it settled, I'll be in touch to meet you in London."
Five days later, Gianlucca called me at night, informing me that he had in his hands my most precious possession...
***
THE PLATFORM OF THIS STATION... IS THE LIFE OF THIS PLACE
It seems that who leaves is the railway
That even not seeing you, it watches over you
As a mother... a mother who sleepswatching her children
With her eyes on the road
London Euston station was empty, few people were traveling at this time, in less than five minutes I looked at the clock twice, I was anxious, there was so much at stake and if I stopped to think, I was afraid my heart would not bear such thing. I've never been a religious woman, but since I received the call from Dr. Costardi that night in New York, I started to believe that miracles exist... I have received the better blessing of all the blessings that God can give us... a life, the fantastic chance for a restart.
That night, God and I knew, I was determined to shorten my life, nothing was worth anymore, nothing else made sense, the pain of my son's loss, and Usher's betrayal throbbed in me like a thorn wounding my soul, I took the depressant medicine, but a greater force stopped me from following my plans when the phone began to ring. I can still remember word for word that Peter's former boss told me as soon as I picked it up.
"Mrs. Chapman, I am Giancarlo Costardi, I'm sorry to call youat this time, I know it's already late in New Jersey, but I heard something important earlier today, it's about Peter."
"I'm not in New Jersey; I'm living in New York.Did you say you have something to say about Peter?"
He cleared his throat and said hesitantly.
“Yes, today I received the visit of a nurse`s father who worked in our medical post, a while ago, he wanted to confirm about the attack we suffered and the death of Peter, he said that he has just known these days about what happened...”
My God, I was not interested about the courtesy visit he received from that man. I tried not to be rude but failed to say:
"Ok, I just do not understand what this has to do with my Peter.”
Dr. Costardi went on embarrassed:
“According to Anya's father, his daughter became pregnant with Peter, but as soon as she knew, she hid the pregnancy because she was afraid about her family's reaction, but it was a risky pregnancy and she died soon after the baby`s birth.”
"My God, it’s a child. He’s Peter's son and my grandson." I could barely speak, my voice choked with the emotion of this discovery.
“You are right, it is a boy, and he is eight months old. I noticed that Mr. Furlan lives a humble life, I am afraid about this child, he can be living a very hard life, and so I decided to call you. ‘Cause I imagined that you would like to confirm if this story is true, and if the baby is, in fact, Peter`s son.”
“Of course, I would like to confirm it, if this child is, in fact, Peter`s son, I will do the impossible to look after my grandson. I`ll need to ask a detective to investigate everything and brings my grandson close to me.”
“I got Mr. Furlan’s contact; I can give it to you. As regarding hiring an investigator, I think this would be the right attitude, you've never been to Haiti, the place in Chantal, where Anya's father lives is a hostile region, I think I know the right person for this job.”
Gianlucca was very reluctant to accept the work, since the region of Chantal town, where Mr. Furlan lives, is a place where armed conflicts are often very fierce.
I know the place is risky, for this reason I ask you to agree to investigate about this child, if the DNA test confirms that he is my grandson, I will not lose time going to the court, it would take a long time until the legal proceedings between the US and Haiti courts have requested a child custody, we do not even know what are Mr. Furlan's real intention. Do you have children, Mr. Costardi?
"Yes, I do. I have cared my daughter by myself, I am widower.”
"So, if you love your daughter as much as I love my Peter, you must imagine my pain, the emptiness in my soul for lost him. All I ask you is to try to help me to give a decent life to this child and to give a meaning to my life again; this is the request of a desperate mother, Mr. Costardi.”
He paused for a moment, certainly thinking of everything I had just told him, and then he broke the silence, answering:
"I also suspect the real intentions of this gentleman, I think he may want to take some advantageover you, I'll think about your job offer and call you tomorrow, may I?"
In the morning, I received the answer that I needed from Mr. Costardi.
"You're aware that going to another country witha child and without the legal procedures is a crime, right?"
"I know Mr. Costardi, but I cannot think of other faster way to have my grandson in my arms, and I imagine if he's starving or sick? I do not even want to think about it, I've lost so much in this life, I cannot lose my grandson too, can you understand me?”
"I understand you. I'll take care of it personally.
And, as he promised, Gianlucca personally took my case and left for Haiti a few days later. He contacted Mr. Furlan, introducing himself as our family representative, and as soon as he showed our interest in confirming Peter's paternity, he realized that the man was just a freeloader and he was only interested in financially exploiting his grandson. A DNA test was done quickly and confirmed what we have already imagined: the baby was actually Peter's son.
"I was with Mr. Furlan today, and he is definitely willing to make it difficult your grandson’s custody, he only complains that he lost his daughter and that the custody is a legal right of the maternal family, but he cannot afford to take care of the child, because his health is fragile. He said that Anya was the only one who contributed to the expenses of the house and since she passed away, he has not been able to account for the child’s costs."
Gianlucca informed me shortly after one of his meetings with Mr. Furlan.
"What does this guy want anyway?" I asked, feeling the anger take care of me, “what does this man want with this?”
“He didn’t feel uncomfortable in telling me he could sell you the child and then legally abdicate the child’s custody if you're willing to pay the price he wants." Gianlucca answered in a disappointed tone.”
“My goodness, what kind of monster proposes to sell a child as if it were an object, or a thing? Even though I know the fact that he finally tells me his real intention makeseverything easier for me, it makes me disgusted to realize that my grandson, for this man, is nothing more than an object of bargaining.”
"Tell him to say his price, I will pay.To rid my grandson of the clutches of this filthy man, I'll do anything."
"Okay, Meryl, I'll negotiate with him.”
Thirty thousand dollars, this was the price that my grandson’s grandfather demanded for him; ten thousand to "allow" us to remove him from Haiti and another twenty thousand, after the legal process of my request for his legal ward to be put on trial. Nothing compared with something so precious, a life.A gift of God that is priceless to me.
Gianlucca used part of the money paid for the service to bribe the right people and so, he was able to take my grandson to London, our meeting place.
I looked again at the clock, even though I knew they were not late, I could not stop checking the time, it was almost impossible to control my anxiety.
My eyes suddenly followed to the station entrance and landed on the tiny figure in Gianlucca’s arms, and in this magic moment I could really understand the real meaning of the word miracle... With each step Gianlucca gave in my direction, my heart beat faster, tearing my chest in a mixture of joy, euphoria and ecstasy. When he stopped in front of me and I could contemplate the beautiful baby in his arms, I did not fight or resist the emotion, I let myself be carried by the avalanche of feelings that dragged without apology, I left the tears repressed for so many hours, and so many nights to do Its role: Wash my soul and purge all my pain, filling my heart with a genuine peace that I had not felt for a long time. My grandson was wrapped in a warm red coat, so small, thin, I reached out to pick him up and as soon as Gianlucca put him in my arms, his little eyes opened to me, translucent in a heavenly blue tone as his father’s, contrasting exotically with his light brown skin, the color of cappuccino.
"What's his name?He's already been registered, right?" I asked Gianlucca, unable to stop admiring the baby cuddled in my chest.
“Pierre Furlan.”
Gianlucca handed me a baby bag and said with a visibly excited expression:
“There he is; your grandson, as I promised.Inside this bag has everything you need: baby bottle, diapers, some clothes, and the most important, all the documentation necessary for you to go to Italy. We agreed that from here you would go alone, but I can go with you there, my family has a house in Florence, I could help you to settle in the city, if you want, of course.
“Of course, I want.”
"So, come on, there's still a long way to go to Florence."
We bought the travel tickets and when we were presenting the documentation of my Pierre I was so nervous that Gianlucca must took the front and presented them to the immigration service window.
The Rail europe train departed from London Euston station to the town of Chester where we made a transfer to another train to Llandudno Junction. Afterwards, we finally reached Roman Bridge station, arriving in Rome after a four-hour drive.
Gianlucca helped me during the trip by taking care of Pierre, who was agitated sometimes, or helping me with our luggage and documentation. As soon as we arrived in Italy, we took a taxi to Rome Station. At ten o’clock in the morning we embarked a region train going to Florence. This trip was a little slower than if we had been on the high-speed Le Frecce train. It lasted about three and a half hours, but the pleasure of having a piece of my son in my arms made me stronger and it was greater than any tiredness.
Although Pierre had slept most of the time, he was very tired. He woke up only for nursing or during a diaper change. The train stopped in Ovietto and Arezzo, two charming Italian cities, and then, went straight to Firenze Campo di Marte station.
After so many obstacles, we finally arrived in Florence. I cannot believe it. We arrived at our final destination in the early evening. As the region where I own a property was far from the center of Florence, and Pierre was exhausted from the trip, Gianlucca and I thought that it seemed more appropriate for all of us to find a hotel to stay overnight.
We stayed at the Mercure Firenze, a comfortable hotel in the center of Florence, as there were no separate apartments available, Gialucca and I shared a large suite with two adjoining rooms beside each other. Since my son died, ithad been the first night I slept in peace a whole night without nightmares, without any fuss, only feeling the warmth of Pierre's breathing, which slept snugly next to me. The next day, I took advantage of the fact that Pierre was still sleeping and went to take a shower to prepare me to continue my journey. Ah! How delightful, all I needed was a long shower and then a coffee. After bathing I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and combed my hair, looking at myself in the mirror... Although it was far from my youth, I still found myself a beautiful fifty-five-year-old woman. I looked at my long wavy brown hair, my light brown eyes still vivid, and the curves of my body, even imperfectbecause of the time, retained its charm, its feminine appeal. Without understanding the reason, unexpectedly Gianlucca's greenish eyes came to my mind, so intense, deep; it was hard to stop looking at him. God, why I am thinking of this man I barely know. It can be the result of the lack of affection in which I find myself at the moment. Aside from Usher, I have never had another man, and it would not be now, that my life was beginning to get back on track, that I would get involved with another man, no way.
As if my thought had the power to lure him, as soon as I opened the door, I came face to face with Gianlucca, wearing a shirt and a black leather jacket and jeans that hugged his athletic form. He was sitting on the bed, playing with Pierre, and beside him was a huge tray full of food. He greeted me in a nod and said embarrassed looking at the tray:
"I did not want to wake you early, you looked so tired, you missed the breakfast time, so I brought you this tray."
I tightened my bathrobe on my body and sat down beside him, thanking him for his kindness.
"Thank you, but I will not be able to eat it all by myself; will you share it with me?"
Gianlucca accepted and served me a little of everything, then he ate in silence.
"Did you say you have a daughter?"
"Yes, she lives in Bagno a Ripoli. It’s near your house.She's twenty-five.”
"Almost the same age as my son. What about her mother?"
"My wife died in a car accident when she was three, I looked after her by myself.”
Pierre moved on the bed and we both looked at that little angel, purring in his sleep like a kitten.
"I'll never be able to thank you enough, Gianlucca.”
"You said your house has been closed for some time, we still have to fix it.You can start thanking me by serving me a cup of coffee as soon as your house is ready."
Gianlucca rented a car to continue our journey and on the way to my house we stopped at a cafeteria for a quick snack.
The cafe's television was showing an unprecedented tragedy, the Rail Europe train, the same one we embarked yesterday, which runs the London-Italy route, suffered a bomb attack last night and derailed, killing hundreds of people.
I carried my hand over my mouth, shocked by the images, that huge train was transformed into a heap of twisted irons, with fire all around. A few hours ago, we were traveling in those same wagons, doing the same route, only a few minutes separated us from death.
Gianlucca put his arm around my shoulder and I buried my head in his chest, I was terrified thinking that we might be dead by now.
My God, if we had not caught the first-hour train or if we had missed our train schedule? If we embarked later, now we would be in the middle of those hardware, as well as the passengers who did not have the same luck as us.
AND THEN... TO ARRIVE AND TO LEAVE
Once again, the fireplace is lit, and outside a very fine rain falls, watering the houses and the streets of Florence, it is very cold, but my heart is warm, my soul is comforted in this warm environment that I can call home.
"Guess who woke up looking for Grandma.”
Gianlucca descends the stairs hand in hand with Pierre, who walks slowly, plump, wearing a white jumpsuit that contrasts beautifully with his brownish skin and deep blue eyes.
Before I get up from the chair, Pierre walks toward me and grabs my legs, laughing earnestly.
“Granny Méeil.” He laughs, trying to tell my name.
"Yes, dear. Granny Meryl."
Gianlucca goes to the cellar and comes back with a bottle of wine, he serves us both a glass, and sits next to me and snuggles me in his chest, kissing my forehead and my lips with sweetness.
"Are you sure you want to go to the church?"
"Yes, we have received a blessing from God.Can you imagine if we had taken the earlier train and if we had boarded that train? Today we would not be here celebrating Christmas.”
On a sunny Tuscan morning, I decided to let the past that involved my soul go and I set Peter free... I spread the ashes of my son through the vines of our winery, and Pierre helped me. We filled our hands with a lot of ash and ran, feeling the afternoon wind kiss our cheeks, among the ripe grapes, like two children playing and spreading love, generosity. We fertilized this magical soil with my son’s memorable life story and his essence.
Ever since Pierre, my little angel, came into my life, I have never seen Peter again, but I feel his presence in his son’s eyes, in every smile of my grandson I see my shy, sweet and generous boy. The night when I immersed myself in my pain was when I reborn to a new life and I was not afraid to admit that my strength was gone. I needed to weaken torealize how strong I am. Today I can say that I live the pleasureof a new love with Gianlucca that since we got involved has been a fantastic journey companion.
At the dining room table, our Christmas dinner awaits us, as I make the last details of the red sweater I am making for my grandson to wear on this lovely Christmas night.
***
We sit discreetly at the back of St. MartinChurch in London.Today the church is crowded with believers; they are celebrating a one-year mass in honor of the victims of the Rail Europe train attack.
Gianlucca couldn’t come with us because of an undelayable business meeting.Shortly after we settled in Florence, we bought a small winery in partnership and he is the administrator of our small business. Pierre, as usual as he is, oblivious to the formality of the religious environment, plays with the two children sitting next to us. The children’s mother scolds because of the noise they make, and I shake my head at Pierre's request.
“Grandma, can I play?”
"No, dear, when we get to the hotel, we play together, okay?"
The two children’s mother (a boy and a girl about six years old), whispers to me:
"Have you lost any relatives in this attack?" She asks, adjusting her sunglasses, looking sorry.
"No, we boarded the train earlier, me and my grandson.”
"God, how lucky you were, unfortunately my in-laws were not so lucky. They boarded the train, they were traveling to celebrate forty years of marriage, so in love with each other, it was an irreparable loss to our family.”
"I wonder it, but I think they are together now, not even death has been able to separate them, is there anything more beautiful than such a love? Nowadays it is so rare to find a true love, not only did they find it, but experienced it for forty years.”
The woman nodded and the children continued to play with Pierre, until the little girl, with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, talked to me:
"Is he your grandson? What pretty eyes he has.”
"Yes, his eyes are like his father's."
She stopped in a silent admiration of my grandson's face, while he played with the boy next to him, and she finally said smiling:
"As blue as the boy next door.”
“Who, dear?”I asked her, looking sideways, not daring to look around and see him after so many time.
"The handsome young man sitting next to me in a red sweater, his eyes and his smile are just like his grandson's.
“... There are only two ways
Of the same trip
The train that arrives
Is the same as the train that leaves
The arrival time
Is also the farewell...”