by Andrei Guruianu\u00a0[USA]<\/p>\n
\nHe was thinking about home, so didn\u2019t notice the girl standing next to him.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0Leaning in toward him, she said close enough to his ear that he could smell the wintergreen of her chewing gum.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not from around here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot really.\u201d\u00a0 He smiled, embarrassed now at not having noticed her.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re quiet, too.\u00a0 You don\u2019t look as though you\u2019re having any fun.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI am.\u201d\u00a0 He assured her, although not at all sure of why he might feel as though he were defending himself.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why aren\u2019t you smiling?\u201d\u00a0 She asked devilishly.<\/p>\n
\nA small grin began to change his look of home-sickness into a satisfied, playful, slightly bored one.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He mostly wanted her to stop asking him about being happy or not.<\/p>\n
\u201cMotioning to the seat next to him, she asked, \u201cMay I sit down?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure.\u201d\u00a0 Replied Raul.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy shoes begin to really hurt after a while.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI kind of know what you mean.\u201d\u00a0 He replied, slipping his muddy boot further underneath the chrome cross bar of the cheap bar stool on which he sat.\u00a0 It had a red plastic cover, which was ripped and hastily repaired, giving it the look of a knife wound at an aide station back there.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nShe sat down on the stool\u00a0 to his right,\u00a0 picked up her right leg and rubbed her ankle, showing off\u00a0 a four-inch, black patent leather heel.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The stage in front of them was empty save for a few revolving neon lights that sliced the floor in repeating yellow, green, and red patterns. The patterns exhausted themselves and started up again every thirty seconds or so, giving the appearance of something new and fresh.\u00a0 A touch-up of make-up or a hit of something worked for the dancers, except that they, like the lights, never were truly new or fresh.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0 The throbbing music shifted tempo to something slower and the volume had been turned down a notch.\u00a0 It was as if the music was working its way to a climax, came, and now was relaxing and getting ready to come again. It was a sign that the next dancer was getting ready backstage, and would be out shortly.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Raul was one of only two men sitting around the stage, the other an old man probably bored, but too tired to get up and go home; an old, wizened face that went along with a useless penis.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMy name\u2019s Heaven,\u201d the girl said, extending her hand.\u00a0 She had long fingers, which wrapped around his fingers.\u00a0 They were warm and sreong.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Raul turned slightly, smiled, then turned back to the lights cutting each other into colorful fragments that soon formed back into a larger light circle.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d she asked, realizing that Raul wasn\u2019t going to volunteer the information without being prompted.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cTony,\u201d he answered, even though he could\u2019ve used the name everyone knew him by at work, which was also not his real name. The foreman knew him as Miguel. The other men who went to the bar together after leaving the fields also knew him as Miguel. It was the name he\u2019d chosen this particular season. In every city he went to find work he used a different name. There were no papers that said otherwise, no one to contradict him.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHi, Tony. Nice to meet you. This your first time here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYes.\u201d Raul hesitated for a moment, not sure if he should go on, but knew names were important, and asked. \u201cHow did you get the name Heaven?\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt wasn\u2019t always Heaven. My roommates gave this one to me. We were sitting around getting high one night after someone stole the bag, all my stuff, my clothes, money, phone, everything. I had nothing. I\u2019d been keeping all my money in that bag, saving it up, you know, so I could make a big deposit. And then, just like that, some jerk asshole brought me back to zero. Nada.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That was my name then\u2014nada, not Heaven.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThat doesn\u2019t sound like Heaven at all,\u201d Raul said, sensing she had paused to allow him to say something, preferably a sympathetic word.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDamn right it doesn\u2019t. I was so pissed off that night, that when the joint came my way, I kept sucking on it\u00a0 like I didn\u2019t want to let go, just wanted to fill my lungs;\u00a0 keep it all to myself. Someone said \u2018Damn girl, if you got any higher, you\u2019d be in heaven.\u2019, everyone laughed, so from then,\u00a0 my nickname was Heaven;\u00a0 I guess it stuck.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhat\u2019s your real name?\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI can\u2019t tell you that; you know the rules,\u201d Heaven said, giving Raul a friendly poke in the arm.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI don\u2019t know the rules.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He said innocently.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s supposedly for safety reasons, so we all have stage names. You know, just in case of stalkers. Vanilla, Champagne, Star, Mercedes, Lexus. Thank God I didn\u2019t end up with one of those car-sound names. I think they\u2019re stupid.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Raul didn\u2019t know what the big deal was if she\u2019d told him her real name. People he knew had many real names. He had several, and didn\u2019t think he\u2019d ever run out. Ever since the coyote dropped them off in the desert ten years ago and vanished, leaving them stranded to fend for themselves in the freezing night and sweltering heat of mid afternoon, Raul knew that to survive, he\u2019d have to become someone else.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Not all of them made it out of the desert and across the border. The first name he adopted in America was Alexandro, the name of the dead man, whose shirt he now wore. He still had it since he took it off the body to keep warm. Survival.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The real Alexandro wouldn\u2019t need the shirt or the name anymore. Then, once he had really reached the U.S., when he jumped in the back of the first pickup truck along with ten other men to drive out to the fields, no one asked for his name– names were for those who were more than ghosts.<\/p>\n
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A dancer had come on stage and the lights were cutting up her body, falling first on her skin that glowed yellow, then scattering onto the floor like bits of colored glass.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou want to sit at the bar?\u201d Heaven asked.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNo thanks. I don\u2019t want a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI wasn\u2019t asking if you wanted a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThen what did you ask?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI was asking if you\u2019d buy me <\/em>a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you just say that?\u201d<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Raul wondered why people never say what they really want. He followed the lights on the dancer\u2019s body moving to keep up with the music, which had a tempo much faster than the lights, so that the whole spectacle was out of sync, making him dizzy.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI don\u2019t know why I didn\u2019t say it. I shouldn\u2019t have to say it. How come you<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0won\u2019t say it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSay what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSay what you want. You know, why you\u2019re here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI don\u2019t know what I want.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYes, you do. Otherwise you wouldn\u2019t be here. Everyone here knows exactly<\/em> what they want. The girls want money to buy nice clothes to get that nice husband who\u2019s going to take them away from this place. The men want a wife who won\u2019t nag, a car that will start up every morning, a blowjob they don\u2019t have to ask for, but nobody ever says that, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0That\u2019s not what Raul wanted, not tonight. But he couldn\u2019t figure out exactly what else it was besides a nagging, unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The old man slipped a dollar bill under a garter belt that cut into the dancer\u2019s thigh. Raul left his own dollar bill on the ledge, and watched the woman pick it up the way one would pick up a dirty piece of tissue paper off the floor. Just something that needed to be done.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAll right. What would you like to drink?\u201d Raul said, getting up and for the first time noticing all the women that stood around behind the stage, leaning on walls, waiting, just waiting, proof that it was indeed a slow night.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 At the bar he ordered a Corona for himself and sat down next to Heaven.<\/p>\n \u00a0Ice clinked in her glass. She stirred red straws in a red drink out of habit.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSo what do you do, Tony?\u201d Heaven asked.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI\u2019m in construction,\u201d Raul told her, hoping she couldn\u2019t smell the strawberry juice that stained his fingernails a light pink. Back home he\u2019d always wanted to make things, to build things that would last long after he was gone. He was good with his hands. But his parents said he should go, there was no future there. They said, \u2018Look at all the people that went to America. Look at all the money they sent home. Look at all the things they brought back<\/em>.\u2019<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0 Raul knew the decision wasn\u2019t really his to make, because his father was too weak to work after his heart attack, and his mother could only take on so many extra jobs; his brother and sister needed clothes, school supplies, food on the table.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhere do you work?\u201d Heaven asked, turning on her stool. Raul thought that she was pretty. He\u2019d come to like white girls because they didn\u2019t smell always of the fields or carried dirt and dust in their hair when they came to bed.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWherever I\u2019m needed,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Raul had come young enough that he picked up the language quickly, not like some of the older men who rode in the backs of trucks with him that would never be able to wipe the hard syllables from their mouths, their past always betraying them.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDo you like it?\u201d<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSometimes, but it\u2019s not what I thought it would be.\u201d He thought of the fields, of the dirt, of all he hated about the routine of his days.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHow about you; you like this?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He motioned around.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s a job,\u201d Heaven said, and he knew exactly what she meant. \u201cI always wanted to teach, but I don\u2019t think I\u2019d make a very good teacher. I read a lot though. I should get paid for that. That\u2019d be great. I\u2019m reading this book right now about people who live in the subways below New York City.\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSubway people?\u201d<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYeah. I carry it with me so I have something to read on the bus home. Wait here a sec.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Heaven got off the bar stool and disappeared behind a wine-colored velvet curtain. Raul swirled the lime in his beer.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When she returned she handed him a book with a black and white cover: The Mole People<\/em>: Life in the Tunnels Beneath New York City<\/em>.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe cops won\u2019t even go after them anymore. They\u2019ve stockpiled weapons.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHeaven\u201d came through the cheap P.A. system. She said she had to go; it was her turn, she stood up on her spikes, but left the book on the bar.\u00a0 Raul continued flipping through it. There were more black and white pictures of a man and his dog, a couple, entire rooms decorated to resemble someone\u2019s version of civilization as much as possible. He read some of their stories– how some swore they would never go back up, no matter what.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Raul didn\u2019t go to the stage, but felt better that some other people had walked in; it was a slow night, and he felt as if he stood out.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When Heaven returned to sit next to him, her breathing was heavier and\u00a0 her skin was coated with a light sweat.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cCrazy, isn\u2019t it?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yes, it was crazy, Raul thought. He also thought of what he would never ask: If so many souls lived in shadows below ground, how many more existed in the shadows above ground? How many like him in California\u2019s fields or New York\u2019s factories? How many in other countries too small for anyone to care?<\/em><\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Instead he said, \u201cWouldn\u2019t their skin turn pale from being in the dark all that time?\u201d He thought of his own skin, a dark gold that got a bit darker at times, but never any lighter.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t know, but I\u2019m telling you, you don\u2019t want to be caught down there with these people. They\u2019re crazy. Angry at what the world has done to them, as if everyone else if responsible for them choosing to live down there with the rats.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSome never choose,\u201d Raul said is a soft voice, looking down at his hands. He closed the book and handed it to her.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDo you want a dance?\u201d Heaven asked after a long enough pause.<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cA dance. Do you want one?\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNo thanks. It\u2019s getting late.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0It was a lie. It wasn\u2019t even midnight yet. But Raul didn\u2019t want to admit that he didn\u2019t have enough money. Starting with his first day\u2019s pay, Raul sent money back home. When he called for the first couple of years, his parents were thankful, happy to hear his voice. Then his father\u2019s health got worse. His sister needed an outfit for her quinceanera. Could he send a bit more? He sent a bit more. Could he possibly send money for this or this, it\u2019d be so nice if he could. Raul could. He sent what he had. Kept enough to get by.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0One day on the phone he said, \u201cMom, I think I\u2019m going to come home.\u201d The long distance voice crackled on the other end, \u201cWhy would you do that? What\u2019s here Raul? Nothing. There\u2019s nothing for you here. There you can work, make money.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Raul understood. He\u2019d been sent to America so he could have a future, possibilities, so those left behind at home could have the same. So he became really good at picking strawberries and peaches, anything that meant being out in the hot sun, that allowed him to become someone new anytime he wished. If he stayed out of trouble, out of sight, he could continue to work and send money through Western Union. He could eat their food, wear their clothes, learn their language and laugh at their jokes–he could be in worlds, body in one, memories of his life in the other.<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Heaven had gotten up from her stool and tried to find someone else to take her up on the offer of a dance. He knew she would take on a different persona with every person she met, would change to better fit the moment. He understood what needed to be done. Raul watched her in her black heels, making her way among the tables and chairs and lights. When one man shook his head, she moved on. He wondered who was she sending her money to? What was she working for? She\u2019d said that everyone there came for a reason. What was her reason? What family, what hungry mouth was waiting at home expecting a meal on the table, never asking how or where it came from?<\/p>\n \n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Raul tipped his bottle back and swallowed warm beer. He wouldn\u2019t go and wait on the same corner in the morning he decided. There were always other corners. As he walked out of one darkness into another, Raul noticed the light of a lamppost casting a queasy yellow glow down to the pavement. Hundreds of tiny flies beat themselves against the bulb.<\/p>\n \nThey looked like snowflakes picked up and carried by a gust of wind, floating for a while longer, delaying the inevitable.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" by Andrei Guruianu\u00a0[USA] He was thinking about home, so didn\u2019t notice the girl standing next to him. \u00a0Leaning in toward him, she said close enough to his ear that he could smell the wintergreen of her chewing gum. \u201cYou\u2019re not from around here.\u201d \u201cNot really.\u201d\u00a0 He smiled, embarrassed now at not having noticed her. \u201cYou\u2019re […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[436,22],"tags":[416,1145,1123,1116],"class_list":["post-2376","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-25","category-short-story","tag-andrei-guruianu","tag-egophobia-25","tag-english","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-Ck","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2376","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2376"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2376\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3532,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2376\/revisions\/3532"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2376"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2376"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2376"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}