Omar went away, disappeared under the radar, lay low for two years, and then today, out of the blue, contacted me in one Saturday morning in early Summer when thunderstorms have a nasty habit of visiting the southeast portion of Texas.
Two years ago, the day after Omar's hasty departure for Colombia after a successful but ruined mission in overseas, I dyed my hair, grew a mustache, took out my contact lenses and replaced them with a pair of prescription glasses, contacted a moving company to transport my personal effects to a storage facility in northwest Houston, near my son's house, went to a realtor and put my condo on sale, and said farewell to Atlantic City.
In Houston, I went off the grid, found an apartment deep in an enclave of Hispanic community in Rosenberg, a town not affluent and thus not worthy to be annexed by Houston. Shortly thereafter, I moved in with a Mexican "illegal" immigrant woman named Carmen. She was young enough to be my daughter, educated, intelligent, resourceful, and hard-working. She was a waitress at a Mexican restaurant in Houston during the day and a tutor in the evenings and weekends. I met her soon after I had moved back to Houston.
I dined almost everyday at the restaurant where Carmen worked. I flirted with her in my halting Spanish and always left her with a big tip. After a few weeks, I sensed that she liked me, too, and not because of my tips. I asked her out and two months later, I moved in with her.
Omar told me to meet him at the "library" and be sure nobody would be on my tail. All of this communication was done via texting and in a code that only he and I would know, in case somebody would monitor my cell phone.
I was glad to hear from him. He was a very dear friend and thicker than blood. Nobody in my family, including my son, would understand and respect me as well as Omar does. Without him, I would be the loneliest man alive on this planet. We have no choice when it comes to relatives, but we surely have plenty of choices when it comes to friends. I know I'm blessed to have a friend as Omar, although I know nothing is free, including friendship. There's a price in everything. In the case of Omar, that price may be the loss of my Liberty and Freedom, and even my Life, because Omar, in his previous incarnation, was a skilled assassin, and is now a hunted, wanted man. He once asked me to join him on the run in Colombia. I, of course, declined the invitation. I didn't understand why he now surfaced. He should have stayed where he was. He had taken a big risk, coming back to the States. Now he wanted to meet me.
I never told Carmen anything about Omar. I kept that compartment of my life away and hidden from her. I understood too well, from past experiences that "woman, thy name is frailty". Most, if not all, men, great or little, have been brought down by women. The greatest enemy of Man is not Another Man, but Woman. Woman is much stronger and crueler than Man. She has no true Sentimentality. She is totally into Survival. She is Calculation Supreme. Her tears are her most potent weapons.
Carmen is better than most women in terms of trustworthiness, but I didn't trust her when it came to Omar. Still, she understood that I had a past that I didn't want to talk about and it was of no use for her to pry into that.
Omar looked fitter and much darker. He told me he went trough a daily regimen of doing push-ups on his hands and fingers, swimming in the Caribbean Sea, and then running at a very fast clip, 5 minutes per mile, for 30 minutes. He explained that sometimes one's life depended on how fast one could run away from danger and how strong one's arms and fingers were, in case one must climb fences and walls. He was the same cool, calm professional who did what he was required to do, and never talked about them with a sense of triumph. Bragging, to him, was unnecessary and foreign, whereas to me it was a morale booster. He wasn't plagued with self-doubts. I was. But I had one saving grace. I was respectful of facts and truths. Hence, I was not blind of my faults and not resistant to change if change was for the better, for enlightenment, for truths.
The conversation I had with Omar today is now imbedded in my memory and the tape has been playing over and over again. For the first time in my life I look at myself from the eyes of others who don't have all the facts about me, and thus judge me on the basis of incomplete information and their own personal biases and prejudices. All comments and judgments about others stem from self-projections, I now realize. We don't really know what others think. We think we do, but it's only conjecture and guesswork. That's why it's important to have a dialogue, to encourage others to talk, to reveal their innermost thoughts. Pretty soon, most people would show that they are insecure, spiteful, and badly in need of validation and affirmation. Very few men and women are secure, objective, and bias-free. Man is, like all apes, insecure and worried about status and power. Man is fragile, much more than he lets on to himself and others.
"I'd softly call out for her name now and then in the privacy of my condo, during lonely moments. I'd see her in the stories that I read, in four languages. Sometimes, in the morning, even now, in the twilight of my life, I'd get virile just by thinking about her. I keep telling myself we all have to die, and that we only live once, and I shouldn't suffer because of certain indelible memories, especially when she isn't like me. For a long time I thought she was. I now realize, very belatedly, that she's nobody special, that she's like the rest, all practical and not having an ounce of dreaminess and romanticism in her. I don't deny that I once loved her, but Love, at least my kind of Love for her, was like a young plant. It needed water and nurture. It needed nourishment. It needed reciprocity. One-way Love was ridiculous, pathetic, and plainly sick, and deserving death. That doesn't mean occasionally, I don't think of her without a pang of sadness. But Life is a coping process with unmet expectations and unfulfilled dreams. Life goes on, inexorably, and with massive indifference to human longings and desires. Life is a process. It doesn't have meanings. Those humans who insist on meanings set themselves up for a lifetime of hurts and sorrows."
I told Carmen all of this before I moved in with her when she insisted on knowing all of my past women, especially those who really set my heart on fire, and pushed my mind out of kilter during benighted and sleepless nights. Carmen then asked me if I really loved her and would die for her. I said that I loved her almost as deeply I loved myself and that no, I wouldn't die for her. "Why should I?"I added.
"Carmen, I'm sixty-seven years old. I'm not a young puppy or a spring chicken, head full of stupid ideas, and eyes full of stars. I've been around the block so many times. I've been kicked in the ass and stomped on in the heart and left to die far more times than I care to remember. I've learned Love is conditional and circumstantial. I love you and care about you, but there's a limit to my love and care. In the end, I must be concerned with number one, and that's me. My own survival takes precedence over everything and everyone else, unless I'm convinced that somebody loves me more than she loves herself. I'm a very fair and just guy. Sorry, that's the way it is and that's the way it will be."
Carmen didn't interrupt my speech. She listened to it with rapt attention. Then she spoke.
"Roberto, mi querido, True Love is always more than 50/50. It's not about looking out for number one. It's about giving, not taking; it's about the Other, not the Self. It's Instinct, not Thought. We've been together only for a few months, but I know that I really love you. I can feel it in my bones. I can die for you. You've made me feel complete, serene. I've never felt like this before. I've not met any man like you before. You're strange, unique, and wonderfully so. That's why I want to have a child by you. But you've refused because I know you don't quite trust me. You've got a lingering concern that I'm after your money, but frankly, my dear, you don't have that much money, not by what you've told me."
All what Carmen told me sounded good, in fact, too good. So it must be "providential" and "preordained" that Omar met with me today at what we called "the library" and told me of his plans and wishes. Now it was high time to see how Carmen reacted to his plans and wishes. Meanwhile I did the packing while waiting for her to get back from work. She didn't have any tutoring session today.
It didn't take me long to pack. I was a simple man, unencumbered by undue material possessions. I always travelled light. All my stuff fit in one suitcase; the other suitcase held my books. I was trying to take a nap while waiting for Carmen. I had a new life ahead of me mapped out. Sleep finally came after a packet of dried squid and three beers. In fact, I was dreaming of running on the beach in Cartagena, Colombia when Carmen woke me up.
-"¿Qué chingado diablo sobre las maletas, hombre? ¿Me vas a dejar? ¿Por qué?"
-"No, not exactly. If that was what I wanted to do, you wouldn't see me lying here, waiting for you. Let me explain what's going on.
-"Yes, you'd better explain, Mister. You're much stranger than I thought", Carmen hissed.
I pulled her down lying next to me while caressing her hair and then her face and started talking in that cadenced, mellifluous, soothing, quasi-British accent of mine. I didn't normally use that accent. I only employed it when circumstances warranted it, when I had to be persuasive. Speaking with that accent slowed me down, forced me to enunciate, and made myself more easily understood. I told her of the history of my long association with Omar and why he was on the run. Then I added:
"Omar's in town today. He contacted me while you were at work. I just came back from meeting him. He said he needed me around him. He's lonely and tired of living by himself. I think he's gay. However, he didn't come out and said that. He said he loved me very much and that I'm the only person in this world that he trusts. He stressed that he knew I wasn't gay or even bisexual, and that was okay with him. He said his love for me was strictly platonic. And he wanted to take care of me financially. He said that it pained and bothered him that at my age I still needed to work. Carmen, the guy is rich. I know that. He once showed me his will. My name's on that, besides his sister. And my share is 70%! I trust him with my life. And he trusts me with his. He said we needed to leave early tomorrow morning. He couldn't stay long in America. It's not safe. He even got a fake passport made for me, a Colombian passport. Don't ask me how he did that. When he saw on my face that I was reluctant to go, he asked me if there was a woman involved. I said yes and told him about you and that I wasn't comfortable to leave you behind, just like that. He then wanted to know if I really loved you and that you loved me. I replied that I was only sure about my part. He told me to stay where I was. He needed to do some thinking. He got up and walked out of the building. About fifteen minutes later, he came back and said tonight there will be a man coming over around eight. Shit, he should be here at any time now. He'll take your picture, talk to you for a few minutes, and then come back no later than midnight with a fake Colombian passport for you. We'll leave in the morning. The flight is at 8:18 am on United. Omar will meet us at the airport with the tickets. We'll all travel together. Sounds good?
-"Just like that, huh? You asked me to drop everything, leave everything behind, and go with you, just like that?"
-"I'm afraid so. Not just leaving everything behind, but also everybody. You must not contact anybody here. You'll have a new life, with a new name and identity. You'll make new friends, but only very selectively, none that would hurt Omar and me. You don't have to work. Omar will take care both of us. If you say no way José because of the restricted Freedom and Liberty, It's perfectly understandable. No hard feelings. If you say yes, I'll stay here till morning and leave with you. If you say no, I'm afraid I must go now. Just remember, Omar takes on a lot of risks to include you in his circle. He doesn't know you. He's taking you in because of me. He trusts me and trusts my judgment about you."
-"Shit. Roberto, I need time to think."
-"Don't think too long. The photo man is here any minute. Love is Instinct, not Thought. You said that, remember?"
Jamaica
5/19/2016
Wissai
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