humanity's curse

since i was a child, my worst fear has always been age.

the old frighten me. not stereotypical fear of the wreckless endangerment of others through veering on the expressway, or the fact that removable teeth are an everyday thing. it is that they are that much closer to seeing death.

i have never been in a rush to grow up. youth is my most jealously guarded possession, and i am desperate not to take it for granted. when i am told to stop acting like a child, that i am far past that, i become afraid. after all, what else do we have but that hopeful cling to our days of innocence? we were untainted by the cruelty of the world, free of sin and crime and the anguish most adults go through every day of their miserable lives. we were able to dream.

in my view the old have nothing left. they have nothing left but to jealously look upon the youth of today, mere shadows in the presence of the world. ignored by their families, all traces of the lust for life they must have once possessed now gone. the lines and creases in their faces telling the story of once upon a time. the glory days have long been over, reduced to the rank pestilence of a decaying nursing home.

i would rather die young than to be old and cast aside along with the morning refuse.

the forbidden fruit, finale| banished from paradise

these sharp yet waning reminiscences have allowed me to forget the 24 story drop to the streets below. i awaken from my elation and jerk back to reality. my cheeks are wet remembering these beginnings, and sweat lines my brow. the lights still calling me, i sway a bit, clutching a note in my hand. so much has happened. that fateful night seems so far away; i find myself going back again.


for 7 days, i was completely and absolutely free.

my mother and i continued to visit your family's house every day after that night. sometimes we would meet downtown at our grandmother's house, but either way, i was beyond the point of happiness. at the dinner table we tended to sit across from each other, a few suggestive glances and bitten lower lips from both of us throughout the meal only anticipating what would come afterwards. every moment not touching you was torturous, and with my mother sitting right next to me i would brush your legs with my toes. there were times i would dare to move higher, resulting in you coughing on your water. it was these times that i would wear longer sleeved shirts and no shorts around the adults. if they noticed the finger and hand prints on my arms and chest and thighs left by you, there would be questions.

rushing upstairs after excusing ourselves to play some videogames you would take me, over and over. each time our hushed gasps and quiet moans grew louder, and soon your lips or neck were barely enough to silence me. after the tumultuous chaos of our bliss, my tight, strenuous hold on your dark curls would relax, and we would lie down in your dark room listening to the night breeze coming in through the window. we whispered about our dreams again, which superheroes were still the best. you told me that for years you had loved me, but couldn't possibly have let me know. from the very first kiss we shared on our grandmother's front steps you had loved me. and i realized that i had loved you since then as well.

"sometimes i wonder if i was adopted," you confide to me one such day, your hands trailing down my spine as we lie intertwined on your white sheets.

"why?"

"because then maybe it would be okay for me to love you."

a pang hits my heart, and i sense it hit yours too. the darkness of the crimes we have committed creeps into the room, chilling, and we move closer together.

"i can't believe that something this right is so wrong," you whisper, your eyelashes brushing my cheek.

"maybe god wants us to be like this...he wouldn't have had us meet if we couldn't be together," i murmur, aware of the childishness of my statement.

you pause, thinking.

"but we can't."

you stop stroking my lower back and roll over, your back to me. i stare at the ceiling above, the sounds of trees swaying entering through the window. i pull my t-shirt over my head and slide into my jeans.

"we should head downstairs, before they get curious."

sitting up you pull me back to you, your face buried in my chest.
"i don't think i can live when you leave," you murmur into my shirt. "even just sitting next to you watching tv is too hard...not being able to even look at you...i can't imagine when you're gone, away in another country completely."

"we'll face that when it comes." i tilt your face up to mine and smile. you smile back, the same sly one that weakens my knees.

"you stay up here and play with grazela for a few minutes, and i'll go down before you," you say, pulling on your pants. i nod and you kiss me before running downstairs.



after a few minutes of admiring grazela's barbie dolls, the next scene that i witness turns my legs to shit. your mother is crying.



i look to your father and he is blue in the face, grabbing you by your collar. tears are streaming down your face as he screams. i cannot hear what he is saying. but the sickly feeling that has suddenly poisoned my body knows. i search for my mother amid all of the commotion, and see her, sitting in a chair staring at the ground. i rush from the foot of the stairs to go to her, but am stopped by a thunder of hands attacking my face and arms.

"YOU FILTHY WHORE! you have sinned against your own blood! you have condemned my son to hell, you traitorous slut! whore!," my aunt screeches as she pummels me.

tavito rushes forward to restrain her, hands still clawing and reaching for my face; i cower on the dirty floor, whimpering for my mother. she does not move, only sits, fixated on one spot somewhere on the ground. through my tears and hair i see vanessa, standing slightly to the side of everything.

the sneer she wears along with a white ruffly dress brings me to a sickly realization.

it was you...you knew, about that night...!

she laughs. her white teeth gleam perfection, and the shrill mock of a laugh echoes through them. in the laugh are all of the years of our rivalry. my many victories outnumbered hers, but she had finally won; and given me the greatest loss. that last laugh's echo reaches me on the rooftop. i shiver.


the few hours after the explosion are a bit of a blur. all i can remember of it was getting whisked into the car to leave; your frantic yells to stop faintly in the background. i look out the back window as we speed away and see you running desperately after us, calling my name. after about 3 minutes you give up, falling to your knees as we exit the suburb. my mother did not speak to me that day, or any day after that until we were to leave the country.



we left two days later. the car ride to the airport is silent. my aunt driving, angeles, is too ashamed to even speak to me, and has forbade alejandra, linda, and alan to do so either. we sit miserably in the back seat, my mother in the front seat, silent and indifferent as ever. very few people are there waiting at the airport to see us off. my grandparents, emerson, jose, my aunt veronica, and assorted little ones. we all exchange half hearted hugs and dry kisses, the scandal rocking each and every one of them out of their comfort zones. no one makes eye contact for more than a moment. i move down the row of little ones, kissing their heads goodbye. a small one, melissa, motions me to come closer. she then whispers, as if it's a secret,
"why are they making you go?"

"...because i did something very bad, and i can't stay here anymore," i whisper, a dry lump in the back of my throat.

she nods, but does not understand. i kiss her cheeks and stand up. i am very startled to see tavito rushing towards me.

"tavito! what are you--"
"i cannot stay very long, i only told mama that i was going to the market. i have a note...he asked me to give it to you," he stutters nervously, closing a folded piece of paper into my hand.

"be careful nena." i smile, tears welling, blurring my vision of his caring features. i had never taken the time to notice how genuine his incredibly bashful smile was. this would probably be the last time i would see it.

"thank you tavito." he touches my cheek, then quickly turns, disappearing into the crowd.

my mother and i were lucky enough to be seated seperately, with her in first class and i in coach. i am seated by the window, my favorite spot. i carefully unfold the note crunched in my hand.

MY ONLY WISH IS TO KNOW THAT YOU WILL SOMEHOW READ THESE WORDS. I HAVE WAITED MY ENTIRE LIFE FOR SUCH A FEELING OF REAL EMOTION. YOU ARE THE ONLY PERSON WHO HAS EVER AND WILL EVER INSPIRE ME TO LOVE. YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MY EVERYTHING, BEFORE I EVEN KNEW WHAT LOVE WAS. YOU ARE WHAT I THINK ABOUT WHEN I FIRST WAKE UP AND WHAT I THINK ABOUT BEFORE I FALL ASLEEP.

"i'm sorry. they said that it wasn't an accident...that he did it on purpose.."

I LOVE YOU. MORE THAN ANYTHING, INCLUDING MY OWN LIFE. AFTER ALL...WHAT IS A LIFE IF YOU AREN'T THERE? WHEN THEY FORCED ME TO WATCH YOU DRIVE AWAY IN THAT CAR, AWAY FROM ME FOREVER, I KNEW THAT IT HAD TO END. WHEN YOU SAID THAT GOD WANTED US TO BE TOGETHER, I BELIEVED YOU--HE JUST DOESNT WANT IT RIGHT NOW. I KNOW THAT IF I DIE, ALL I HAVE TO DO IS WAIT FOR YOU.

"they didn't find any note, any indication as to why he did it. they believe that he threw himself off of the bridge onto the expressway, obviously with an intent to end his life."

AND I WILL. IF I HAVE TO WAIT 100 YEARS. I WILL WAIT. IF THEY WON'T LET ME LOVE YOU IN LIFE...BE COMFORTED THAT I WILL WAIT FOR YOU IN DEATH. ELYSIUM WILL BE OURS. I LOVE YOU.

elysium. we had talked about it once. you told me that yours was a beach, with water so blue is outshined the sky. the sun would take hours to set, allowing its' beautiful colors to expand across the heavens. and when it finally did set, the stars were so close you could touch them. mine was quite simple. it was that warm day downtown, with the sun shining through the trees, the pulperia on the corner. i can smell the breeze wafting the smell of summer, the meats cooking, and i can taste the mangos in the cart passing by. all made perfect by sitting on the stairs, a coke in hand. with you.

"your aunt and uncle sent me some papers...they are documents certifying legal custody."

"...what does that mean?"

"you two weren't really cousins...your aunt had an affair with another man...they kept it a secret from everyone else, including him. he was not your blood relation."

the lights below me glitter as my tears fall thousands of feet.
i crunch the sharp cornered note in my hand, pinching my skin and raise my arms to my sides. what do i have to lose now?



the pavement nears so quickly, i can barely enjoy the feeling of flying. everything that was miniature just a mere few moments ago now grows larger, the cracks in the sidewalk more distinct. i can't remember if i said anything. i know that i kept my eyes open, tears streaming up behind me into the sky; which is strange. all i could see when i plummeted down was you.
then finally nothing at all.

when i awoke you were sitting next to me, the warm breeze rustling your black curly hair. you smile down at me, setting an already bitten mango down on the steps next to two glass bottles, and help me to my feet.

the forbidden fruit, part three| partaking of the fruit

(continued from part two)
--


over the next week i had seen you almost everyday. you did not mention that first day's soccer game, and acted as if you barely knew me. we had very casual conversation, very different from the past conversations of our dreams and the
coolest superheroes. i was stunned by your failure to even look me straight in the eye.

was i disappointed? had i expected an explanation for that...first day?

over the next few days i grew increasingly restless, my two female cousins alejandra and linda noticing.

"what's wrong with you? ever since last tuesday you've been acting weird," alejandra pokes me. all three of us lying sprawled on her bed reading magazines.

"i'm fine...i think i just ate something bad."

the two sisters nod in understanding; their mother's food is very different from the food i am accustomed to. that and the fact that sometimes it doesn't sit well.

my mother comes in and tells us to get dressed.
"we're going to your uncle's house today," she says.

"didn't we just go yesterday? and the day before? and the day before that?" linda moans.
"linda you don't have to come, but you have to. no excuses." she eyes me and i roll over into the pillows.

in the car i am dreading this visit. it will be exactly the same as the others; except emerson isn't going, so i will have no one to talk to. i can't very well talk to vanessa, and grazela is too young; tavito won't talk. and i don't even want to face you again. we walk up to the stoop of your very tall house, and i see a few boys playing ball down the street. i recognize your curly shag, and i shove my way up past my mother and aunt and knock on the door.

we all sit down to dinner, and your mother walks to the door to call you in. you come in, your face a little damp, and everyone greets you. you return them with a very open smile; you look in my direction and smile bigger. i don't smile back.

your mother enthusiastically pulls open the empty chair next to me, and plops you down. i sigh and fiddle with the beans on my plate. the dinner goes by with the grownups gossiping about everything; we are the only two children, except for grazela, and we do not talk. vanessa is at a birthday party, and who knows where tavito is. after the meal the plates are cleared and replaced with coffee cups and small dishes for cake. how much coffee does our family drink?

i excuse myself to go to the bathroom when really all i want is to escape the awkward silence between us. i splash some water on my face while i am in there and fix my hair. i actually look decent.

so why wouldn't he talk to me? not that i would want him to...but still.

as i walk down the hallway back to the dining room i see all of the pictures of your family on the wall, and am surprised to see a picture of me as well. two pictures...no three. four? one of them is a current picture of me, a portrait--maybe mom sent it to them? the others fluctuate, one when i was 11, two are younger. gazing at the wall i do not notice you standing in front of me, and i bump into your chest.

"sorry, i--"

"go back down to the dining room. meet me upstairs in 3 minutes."

you stride past me up to the stairs. none of the lights are on upstairs, but i hear a door close. confused, i head back down to the dining room. why are your eyelashes that long?

i sit down and wait. the adults haven't even noticed my return, and i nibble on a small piece of cake. has it been 3 minutes yet? those 180 seconds go by quickly. i rise and casually make my way back up the stairs to the picture hallway.
the hallway is dark now, as is the upstairs where you went. i reach the top of the stairs and wonder where you wanted to meet me; in your room? on the balcony outside?

before my eyes are able to adjust to the dark, a pair of hands grabs me from behind. one covers my mouth and the other crosses my chest, pulling me back. i panic, and my arms thrash, the feeling of a wall pressing against my back. the hand over my mouth disappears and i open my mouth to scream, but am silenced. your lips inhale my scream and your body presses mine against the cold wall. my hands search the wall behind me, frantically searching for something to grasp, as my mind cannot even grasp what is happening. your hands then silence my hands' frantic search as your fingers lace with mine.

that damned tingling is back. now there is no stopping it.

finally, after about forever, you release me from your lip lock and i gasp out of sheer shock and for breath. you place my hands on your shoulders and my stomach churns as i feel your hands skimming across my hips and thighs, feeling every inch of me.

"we can't, this is..." i stutter, your lips burning the very same spot on my collar bone as they did days ago. i feel that we are moving; we have moved closer to a lit doorway. your room.

my fingers grip your curls, and i feel my body surrendering. the wall at my back disappears, and you push me into your room, landing on the bed. the door closes, and the lights fade.

if only i had taken note of the figure sitting in the window in the corridor before you shut the door behind you. perhaps we might have known that we had now damned ourselves; not only in the next world, but in this one.




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the final, part four, coming soon