We have no choice / other to entangle more
A few days later I found her near the metro station Manuel Montt, in a used-book market, we walked together looking at some books, snooping on their dusty pages, reading the last pages, stroking the covers, but without buying anything.
I invited Helena to have dinner, she agreed, we walked together contemplating buildings, across Baquedano, the Cathedral, the Plaza de Armas, we cross bridges, until we arrived to Riquelme, I invited her to the apartment, it was 4:18 pm and was raining lightly.
That day we ate nuggets and drank beer, I showed her some of my recent work and she liked the drawings, we made some Pisco Sour, and drank more beer. There I knew that she came to Santiago to study advertising, that she didn’t had Chilean friends, that she felt that everything smelled like smog, that her taste in music was terrible, that she didn’t know how to draw and she had fallen in love with a place named Valdivia. And so, between entertaining talks, beer and sunset, night fell.
The metro closed at 11pm, and due to my insistence and the fact that nobody expected her back, she stayed with me. That was the first of many visits. Although we do not yet fell in love. We kept hanging out, knowing each other, walking alleys smelling of vague piss, contemplating historical monuments, palaces, places and markets. We made drawings of the Mapocho river from the bridges, ate buns, drank pisco, and I’m not sure when we started to hold hands.
Winter came and found us in love, her toothbrush was the first to move in, then a couple of books, some shoes, a couple of dresses … Gradually these things found their place in the cold apartment with large windows. We never said love words, they was no need. She was more of a companion, an accomplice, and the city witnessed our days together…
She was like an eclipse, was attracted to the magic and all those esoteric things, one day she came back crying, she had a paper in her hand and from her eyes black tears were falling streaking her face. I help her to reach the coach, almost carrying her, and pulled the paper from her hand “6-8-0-9-4-2-5”. Confused, I asked her what had happened, hugging her.
She told me that she had found a Santero in the Plaza de Armas and he read the snails for her, I did not know you could read such things, nor why she would never learn to stay away from those things because she kept falling into those tricks, not long before a gypsy had taken all her money after she voluntarily handed over her wallet, according to Helena the gypsy had hypnotized her.
Apparently the Santero had told her that her blood was cursed, that it was her parents fault because they contradicted destiny when they fell in love and the cosmos had decided she was the one that had to make it right for the mistakes of the past, that she would never be able to have root in other people’s world, and she could not have stability until the cosmos was pleased.
That she would have problems in the stomach, nerves and circulation, and that she could not have children, and if she had, the blood of their children would also be cursed. The Santero suggested a clean in a river near the Cajon del Maipo, to buy sunflowers, wear yellow clothes, that her virgin was the charity of copper and that she had to keep a gold chain on her left foot because she tends to daydreaming and that would serve to keep her feet on the ground.
– Those things are pure inventions, relax.
– In this world everything is invented, Joaquín – She answered serious, wiping her tears
– And the numbers on paper?
– He told me to play the lottery and if I used these numbers I would win.
We never bought a ticket for the lottery, but we kept the paper on the shelf of our favourite books, and although I do not believe in these esoteric things, the day she took the gold chain off her left foot, I hid it in a box in the bottom of the wardrobe, I was afraid that she stop dreaming.
It’s 5am, I still can’t sleep, all is quiet, Javiera still has its red and yellow colours, sometimes I miss her, sometimes I forget her. What I don’t forget is when he left, in her suitcase was also my pyjama. Did she took it on purpose or she really didn’t notice?