Piensa en mi cuando sufras. Última Entrega

IX. Day. Kitchen. Officer turns into an Automat

- Poor boy, it must be a really tough case for you huh?
- Yes, miss
- Well, dont you worry, Im going yo make it dead simple. Show me to your police car, we'll go catch the bad guy.
- Can I make the sirens wail?
- Of course you can! You are the law enforcer! You have to make sirens wail right?
- Right, right... So are we going after that James guy then?
- Oh no! Lord Charles is the bad guy, remember? Repeat after me: Lord
- Lord
- Charles
- Charles
- Is
- Is
- The
- The
- Bad
- Bad
- Guy
- Guy
- Very good!

X. Day. Sally's Coffiure. Best of Lucks from James

- They are coming after you.
- How do you know.
- Because I sent them.
- Right. You Bastard.
- I just did it because I know Im the bad guy.
- No, George was the bad guy, you are just a...
- Little bitch? Whore? Tramp? I'm the bad guy, Charles. Not a half-hearted stick-selling criminal, but a silver screen villain. I'm like Bette Davies in 'Jezebel'...
- But with a bald spot
- Yes. With a bald spot. You were always the funniest, though you never managed to distinguish when we were laughing with you, and when we were laughing at you.
- So tell me James, which kind of laugh is this one
-... I heard you dont shower anymore.
- I turned indie, after my wife died
- Car crash right? Im so sorry, Charles
- Dont be, I merely meant to use her death as a reference in time, I actually turned indie because its good for politics. Talking about wifes though, weren't you sleeping with George's?
- There is this thing she does, you see. Some sort of gourmet voodoo. But dont think she could even fry an egg properly, she just knows how to shop for good paté. At first, there was that. Then there was the fact that having sex with her got on George's nerve, which gave me an advantage in our Scrabble matches.
- So you slept with George's wife because of Scrabble.
- Right. And also because I knew I could use her to further incriminate you
-Further incriminate me? I walked through the crowded boulevard with a stick still bloody from my cheating lover's murder
- Perhaps I over-planned
- Perhaps
-...
-...
- Listen, I called to tell you why I did all the things I did. I mentioned 'Jezebel' remember? You know how in that movie Bette Davies is all conceited, and let's some guy die just to show her first and only love, who married another woman, some point she isn't really sure about?
- You are going to tell me you were in love with George?
-Of course not! If I were to use Jezebel just as an example of how much of bad ass I am, I would be wasting such a clever analogy. Bette Davies wasn't even at her meanest in that movie. What's important is how after fucking up everybody's life she decides to sacrifice herself for her man, even if he is married to a much nicer, way thinner, woman.
- But you said you didn't even love George, and he is already dead, so I don´t see were the point of you sacrificing could be.
- The point is that after mindlessly messing with other people's life for the sake of being the leading character...
- You mean supporting character, or main villain at most
-Whatever, Charles. The thing is that as a final act of redemption I've decided to warn you about George's wife and some generic cop that by now must be unto you. So go, flee the country if you can, go somewhere nice, like Rio. Best of lucks - click.

XI. Day. Police car outside Sally's. Gourmet voodoo once again

- That's it! Sally's Couffiure, he'll be there!
- Why are you so sure?
- Because there is where Charles and George used to get our hairs done, mine and Charle's wife I mean.
- Did they actually fixed your hairs theirselves?
- Of course not! they just gave directions to make sure our heads said the right thing... Oh don't look at me like that! I mean one's hair could easily say 'wife-like sexy' and be confused with 'slutty-because-of-marital-unhappiness sexy'. Important men can't take that risk!
- May I... Ignore all of that miss, it makes me feel uneasy.
-Sure, why not. Remember this though, Charles we'll resist arrest so you'll have to shoot!
- Do I have to?
- Just if you are interested in this babies
- Are those... codfish croquettes?
- They are. Do you want them?
-Yes miss.
-Real bad?
-Yes miss.
-Good.

XII Day. Sally's Coffiure. Shoot!

Piensa en mi cuando sufras. Cuando llores, tambien piensa en mi. Cuando quieras quitarme la vida, no la quiero, para nada, para nada me sirve, sin ti.... Turn it off, Sally, they are here

- Charles, you killed my husband.
- Yes.
- That was really thoughtless of you, we were getting a new fence for our backyard.
- Im very sorry.
-...
-...
- Well, I guess there isn't much else left to say.
- There isn't.
-Goodbye, Charles.

It seems that the time streches endlessly as the police officer loads and points the gun. But after a while this solemn feeling is replaced by the certainty that the officer was clearly not shooting.

- Its just that I've got so many questions!
- Me too!
- Hi.
- Hi.
- Whats your name?
- Im Sally.
- Nice to meet you Sally, Im the officer.
- Does it all seem in a way... flimsy to you too?
- It does, Sally! Wouldnt it be nice to just sit for a while and discuss it all over a cup of

But then, the wife snatches the gun

- How does this..

BANG!

XII Day. Mohitos in heaven.

- George?
- Charles.
- I'm sorry
- Me too.
- Shall we?
- Sure, wait till you try the mohitos

Larga Espera

-Buenos días, don Marcelo, tan temprano como siempre.

-Buen día.
Don Marcelo hizo una reverencia y un silencioso gesto con la mano a los dos guachimanes. Rostro adusto y más demacrado de lo debido para su edad, camisa limpia pero percudida en el cuello y con botones que parecían a punto de salir disparados por la presión a la altura de la panza, pantalón de vestir color caqui demasiadas veces lavado, zapatos de cuero negros que parecían más viejos que cualquiera de los dos guachimanes y, por un segundo, una mirada de extrañeza al segundo de estos, el mismo que, cuando don Marcelo se sentó en la misma banca de siempre, preguntó a su compañero:

-¿Es él?

-Huevón, claro que es él, ¿acaso no te lo he descrito bien?

-Ya ya, quería asegurarme pe'...

Don Marcelo tenía la seguridad de que estaban hablando de él, era natural después de tantos meses, 7 con 14 días para ser exactos. En ese local de la reniec todos conocían su historia, aunque, claro, al principio él solo la contaba a un ocasional vecino de banca, cuando estaba muy deprimido. El primer trabajador que se enteró fue el guachiman, el único que lo llamaba por su nombre. Él fue enviado por el jefe de seguridad cuando ya había pasado un mes:

-Señor, disculpe, ¿podría acompañarme?

-No, lo siento, no puedo moverme de aquí, ¿no podemos conversar acá?- recordaba la cara de irritación del muchacho, recordaba estar seguro de que lo sacarían a la fuerza si no decía algo, así que, mirando al muchacho de reojo- Lo que pasa, hijo, es que no puedo moverme de acá porque desde acá puedo ver todo el local sin estar muy expuesto... no, no, no pongas esa cara, no estoy planeando un robo ni un asalto ni ninguna de esas cojudeces...

-Entonces, usted viene todos los días apenas abrimos y se sienta en esta misma banca hasta que cerramos porque...

-Porque estoy esperando.

-¿Esperando? ¿esperando qué?

-Ay, hijo, es una historia larga, pero para resumírtela, estoy esperando a que mi ex esposa traiga a mi hija a sacar su denei.

El guachiman volvió varias veces, a preguntar más y más, parecía interesado y entusiasmado con su historia, y cuando le terminó de contar muchos otros se acercaron a confirmarla. Don Marcelo tenía la impresión de que incluso venia gente de otros lugares a verlo, a ver un hombre en desgracia. Le preguntaban de todo y él respondía todo, para que no lo botaran. Muchas preguntas respondidas sin mirar a quién, muchos revuelcos del corazón, muchas punzadas en la barriga, muchas úlceras por comes a deshoras, muchas falsas alarmas, mucho tiempo sin verlas y nada de eso le quitaba la convicción de que cuando las viera las reconoceria en seguida, pero su hija no aparecía, aunque tenía que.

-... pero, Don Marcelo, ¿cómo sabe que van a venir a este local?

-Porque ellas viven por acá, la abuela vive por acá, mi ex esposa trabaja por acá y mi niña estudia por acá. No hay razón para que vayan a otro local.

-Pero, si sabe todo eso, ¿por qué no se las encuentra en su casa, o donde la abuela, o en el instituto?

-Ay, hijo, tú no comprendes, si mi esposa me dejó fue por algo, y yo no puedo aparecerme en su puta casa con toda la puta concha del mundo y decir "¡hola, hijita, papi ya volvió!".

En esa ocasión, todos voltearon a verlo, y se encontraron con un hombre de cuarentaypocos que parecía de cincuentaymuchos con una lágrima bajándole por cada una de sus demacradas mejillas.

Pero las cosas habían mejorado en esos 7 meses y 14 días. Ya no tenía úlceras porque una recepcionista se había apiadado de él y le llevaba comida a la hora del almuerzo. Ahora podía ir al baño porque todos los que registraban sabían el nombre de su hija y le avisarían si aparecía. Don Marcelo sentía que todo iba bien, que todos en ese local lo apoyaban, que el mundo estaba de su parte. Una muchachita de 18 años se encargaría de sacarlo de su error. Muy parecida a la mujer que la acompañaba, pero, para su desgracia, con la nariz de don Marcelo, la tan esperada hija entraba a registrarse muy temprano y se ahorraba la molestia de esperar. Él miraba fijamentea su hija, y cuanto menos otros 15 pares ojos lo miraban a él después de la señal de la señora que la registraba. Por fin, se paró y dio tres pasos, su ex esposa lo miró, ojos llenos de sorpresa, una mueca de desprecio, una inyección de malos recuerdos, don Marcelo se dio media vuelta, volvió a su asiento, siguió cada movimiento de su hija, entusiasmada, aliviada, con un problema menos en su joven y atolondrada cabeza, aguantó las lágrimas, le vio el rostro solo unos segundos, vio su espalda hasta que estuvo fuera de vista, sin moverse de su eterna banca.

-Don Marcelo, ¿qué pasó? ¿por qué no se acercó?

-Hijo, ¿sabes desde qué banca se ve toda la zona de recojo de deneis?

--------------------------------------º-----------------------------------------

Si ves el mundo en blanco y negro, conglomo regresó con pinturas tekno-la mayor variedad en matices- bajo el brazo para demostrarte lo tonto que eres(a menos que tengas visión monocromática), in spanish o en ingles, en prosa o en verso, desde lo sofisticado o desde lo urbano, pasando por lo camp y el simple desparpajo. ¿A quién no le gusta un poco de humanidad en estos tiempos? Mario R.

Piensa en mi cuando sufras. Segunda Entrega

IV. 1995 Night. George's dorm at the Gynechology, Diplomacy and Stick Selling College. Wine gives birth to the Threesome

They lay in a dirty old rug, forming a sort of triangle laying on each others belly. In the middle, several expensive wine bottles pile around a half eaten cake .

- Happy Birthday George.

They all laugh. And then

Esta mañana muy tempranito sali del pueblo con el latigo -They kiss each other in turns- y como entonces la aurora venia yo la recibia cantando como un pajarito- They undress clumsily-. Por los carriles de los rastrojos soy la hormiguita de los despojos. Ay ay ay ay que trabajo nos manda el señor -they form an amazingly complicated pose-, levantarse y volverse agachar, todo el dia los aires y el sol.- George says 'change' and there's a lot of twisting and unclenching - Ay ay ay ay en memoria de mi segador no arrebañes lo campos de mies que detras de los hombres voy yo - But Charles bites, so soon after George says "change" again.

- I thought one couldnt come after six bottles of wine, Georgie.- Gasps suffocate George's small laughter as he lays aside enjoying himself. The other two divide into trivial after sex tasks

Suddenly, there's a small eye fight:

George seems to say, through a lot of blinking and nose wrinkling " Thanks James, you were kind enough not to bite my penis off, couldn't say that much for..."; Charles tries to defend his dignity pointing James with his eyebrows "He was viciously pulling my prick to sabotage me, George!"; James takes a big chunk of cake, smiles, and gultily rolls his eyes "Yes, I was"


V. 1998 Day. The Stick Seller's beach house. Time breaks the threesome into dangerous twosomes

- No.
- Come on George, tell me!
- We are going steady this time, James.
- You are after his money, aren't you?
- I wont be seeing you again.
- Sure, sure, that will last...
- What's that supposed to mean?
- But you must tell me.
- I dont know what you are talking about.
- I mean, does Charles still bites?
- He makes me feel good.
- Not like I do, though.
- Good about myself.
- You.
- And about other people too, even about you, James.
- I... I'll tell him!
- Tell him what?
- About us, any time, as soon as I get bored.
- Im breaking up this affair, right now.
- You can't break us last night, or the night before that. He'll never forgive you.
- He knows he cant trust you.
- He cant trust himself either, he'll think he wasnt pleasing you.
- But he is!
- He'll blame himself, but mostly he'll blame you.
- What do you want?

VI. Day. Sally's Coffiure. As he suffers, Charles thinks of him.

- But if it was a crime of passion why didn't you kill James or George's wife then?
-We all got wifes back in the nineties Sally! It was a standard upper-class conservative gay deal. And anyway, I dont intend to kill James either, it wasnt his fault.
-What! He was the temptress!
-No, George let him into our lives.
- But surely...
-Nothing was sure with George and his drinking, Sally. I needed the bastard, so I had to kill him.
- I thought it was because of all that cheating with his half-brother...
- Yeah, yeah, whatever. please skip "Ne Me Quitte Pas", I'll tell you when to stop.

So Sally starts skipping songs in an completely random yet significant order, thus producing the perfect introductions to the next few chapters

VI. Day. George's Kitchen. Confused officer sees the plot thicken

Odiame por piedad yo te lo pido, odiame sin medida ni clemencia. Odio quiero mas que indeferencia porque el rencor hiere menos que el olvido...Si tu me odias quedare yo convencida de que amaste, amor, con insistencia. Pero ten presente, de acuerdo a la experiencia, que tan solo se odia lo querido.

-Shit blocked number!
-I know who that was, Officer
-Really?
-It was James, my husband's lover, his half-brother, my lover.
-Really?
-Yes, he is the reason Charles killed George!
-Really?
-I had to lie till I knew I could trust you. I know I told you it had to do with the Charles' wife, but wifes where standard issue for upper-class conservative gay men in the nineties. As you said, she was killed in a car accident. Wifes and cars were always repleaceable. It was George cheating on him with James for about twelve years that got him. So he killed him. But what Charles doesn't know is that George had to keep the affair because James was blackmailing him.
- Really?
- James would threaten to tell about the affair if George broke the affair . Charles wouldn't have understood such a silly way to get ripped off. He was a diplomat, you see. And so, George had to keep seeing James who had recently decided to tell Charles anyway.
-Really?

VII. 2001 Night. Gynechology, Diplomacy and Stick Selling College Graduates Annual Gathering, James is missing. Charles loses his face.

Ven amorcito lindo, mi adoración. Cuentame que te pasa mi dulce amor. Celos maldito celos, por que te matan si no hay razon. Ya sabes que yo te quiero y solo es tuyo mi corazon.

- So she puts a bunch of chalk arrows on the floor to lead him unto...
-George... [tell me the truth]
-Yes?
- We weren´t talking about 'Amelie', remember?
- Right..
-We were talking about James, about the live he is leading. I've heard stuff [from your eyes, your smell, your half smile, your distance]. And I'm worried, we have to help him.
- He can help himself,
- You see! You know something that you're not telling me. [Please, George don't let me make a scene]
- I was trusting on your dramatic correction not to ask. James has changed, he isnt the one we knew, Charles
- You mean your half-brother isnt worth worrying about. [I worry about James, to the point it makes me feel stupid, you've make me fear him]
- I mean he deserves the fame he's got.
- George! [Give yourself in please, if you dont Ill have no shame]
- I know it sounds terrible but you have to trust me
- Why? Have you been seeing him any more than I have? Where do you get all this unmovable certainty? [So much for decency]
- I...
- Yes, I think I know that "I...".
- Charles, don't go! let me explain!


VIII. Day. Sally's Coffiure. Sally stops skipping songs, The villain calls.

Por no querer perdonarte me esta matando el dolor. Aunque mi rostro sonria, me estoy muriendo de amor. Llora llora corazon. Llora llora si tienes porque. Que no es delito en el hombre llorar por una mujer.

- I didn't want to believe, Sally. But sometimes it seemed as if George wanted to let me now in a very painful way.
- Sometimes that is the only way, the most decent way.
- Sometimes.

No existe un momento del dia
en que pueda apartarte de mi.

- That's your cellphone Charlie.

El mundo parece distinto
cuando no estas junto a mi.

- I know

No hay bella melodia en que no surjas tu;

-Well, arent you answering?.

ni yo quiero escucharla si no la escuchas tú,
es que te has convertido en parte de mi alma.
Ya nada me consuela,
si no estas tú tambien.

- Hrrr.- Click- Hello?

-Its me.

Piensa en mi cuando sufras

I Day. Crime Scene in the front porch, The wife has a hunch

- My husband had been dead for years officer. He had solid face-to-the-facts emotions, you see. Happiness came to him in a very clear, neatly packaged way.
- And what way was that exactly?
- The way down to the licor store, of course.
- So he was happy when he was drunk
- Oh not only happybut--
- Very, very happy, I see. So, what got in the way of his happines?
- The doctor said he had to stop drinking or he would die. And that, officer, killed him.
- So he no longer drinked.
- He did! but it wasnt cheerful drinking, but obssesive, angst-ridden, suicidal drinking.
- This got him in to trouble.
- Yes, he and my lover would have the most dreadful fights about --
- Wait, he and your lover were friends?
-They were half-brothers
- And did he knew..
- Yes of course!
-Oh, Im sorry miss. But please, back to the fights.
- They would get into awful theasaurus fights over an ordinary game of Scrabble, Im afraid I had to call the police in more than one occasion.
-So do you think that perhaps one of this fights got a bit out of control, perhaps your husband had tried to use some incredibly silly word like "Flipacointwice" and your lover couldnt cope with it so he decided to take out the knife and slice poor George into...
-I thought you said he had been murdered with a stick, just as he answered the door.
- Yes. Yes. I mean, did you see George's half brother with any suspicious stick las night?
- No, not any suspicious sticks, he sold them, you see.
-He sold sticks?
- It was the family business
- Did George sell sticks too?
- No.. he was kind of a black sheep in his family. He was a gynechologist, specialist in fertility puns.
-Sorry I thought I heard you say fertility puns.
- Its a new sort of therapy, he invented it. It entailed him joking people into having babies.Quite revolucionary.
-Did it actually worked?
- He said that if it had worked on me it could work on almost anybody, but it didnt. All that punning got him several enemies. I bet it was one of them unsatisfied costumers that killed him with a stick to incriminate my lover.
- Well... that sounds like.. like an actually good hunch
- Thank you, officer
- You are quite a perceptive women.
-Oh you are just saying that... do you want to come in? I mean, you must be tired, standing ther, taking all those notes, with that... tight uniform.
-Uhm. Yes. No, see I have to go down to the station and report on--
-Come in, Ill make some crepés
-I-- Oh well.

II Day. Through a crowded boulevar, the killer walks to her friend Sally's Coffieur

The killer walked through the boulevard with his bloody stick, barking at people like a mad man. he was a bearded man, but not a neatly bearded man, but a fried-chicken-and-cheetos-stained-bearded man. He had big earphones over a long black greasy hair. He was listening to Olga Guillot's "Enseñame Tu" as he turned the corner and entered into a generic dinner. He asked for the bathroom. The waitress told him. When he got out, he was as unpleasant looking as before, but back on the street he stopped barking at people. Peeing put him in a better mood.

Once at Sally's

-But really Charlie, couldnt you at least lose the bloody stick.
-They're not chasing me Sally, the police must know the difference between--
-Between a killer that hasnt taken a bath in four years and a crook.
-Hey, you got somewhere to connect this?
- You too? I feel like im the only person alive that hasnt got an Ipod.
-You might just be, Sally, go on put something by

"Hace un año que te fuiste, y aun no se me va el sabor..."

III Day. Kitchen. Officer pussy whipped with gourmet shit

- Mhmm, that was good wasnt it, officer?
-Ehrm, yes miss, that was, ehrm, fine cheese.
-What about the crepes.
- They were good too, I guess.
-Oh officer, you've stained your shirt
-No problem miss, I'll..
-But let me.
-No, really..
- Dont be shy..
- Im not shy!

(...)

-So now its clear that the killer was Lord Charles.
-What?
-Come on officer, I know cheese can get to a man´s head but please try to keep up!
-But you just brought that up! It's not fair to use as an argument to pass judgment on my fine cheese eating.
- Look, salty boy, the killer was Lord Charles, the missing filanthropist, he was pissed one of my husband's puns had made his wife suicidal...
- But Lord Charles' wife died in a car accident, because of the papparazzi! And lord Charles isnt missing at all, he just turned indie!
- I thought policemen didnt read that sort of news you should be embarrassed.
- I... I overheard it at some pub. I was drinking. A lot. With some very tough blokes.

Devuelveme mi amor para matarlo,
devuelveme el cariño que te di

-Whats that?

Tu no eres quien merece conservahlo

-Oh shit its my George's cellphone

tu ya no vales nada para mi

-Where is it?

devuelveme el rosario de mi madre

-I think it comes from..

Y quedate con todo lo demao

- Here it is. I've got it

Lo tuyo te lo envio cualquier tarde

- Give me that!

No quiero que me veas nunca máoouu

- No! Stay put silly woman - click- Hello?

- She is right officer, Charles is the killer. George was cheating on him, with me.

-What?! Who are you?