Leslie picked me up at the pier terminal right on schedule. I was one of the first passengers that got off the ship. As soon as I got into her black Lexus, she got right down to business after a few perfunctory questions about my yearly Caribbean cruise.
-"Met anybody interesting?"
-"No, but not for lack of trying!"
-"You, lecher you. My dear, you're getting less handsome and bigger around the waist. You're not the same Roberto I met three years ago when I first interviewed you. I hope you're noticing that."
-"I am. Shit, I ate too much rich food on the ship. I'll go on a diet and do more running. I promise.
-"You'd better. I read the latest story you posted on the Net, the one called "Love and Survival". Any truth in that? I don't like the ending. Did Carmen get on the plane for Cartagena?"
-"If you have to ask, you missed the point of the story. All the clues for the ending were established throughout the story. I thought you majored in Literature, besides Journalism, in college. As I was writing the story, two pieces of advice reigned supreme in the forefront of my consciousness: There must be an unconscious to the story. The story must have something underneath."
-"So, enlighten me!"
-"I won't. But I'm going to talk around it. You see, story-telling, or writing poetry, doing the so-called literature, is not easy. You must have a gift for it. I don't know if I have the gift. It doesn't matter if I do or not. What matters to me is I'm drawn to stories and poems, and sometimes I feel compelled to express myself in them.
If you think it's easy to write a story, any story, just try to do it yourself and you will see how difficult it is. First, you must have something to say, a point to make. Then you construct your narrative around this point, to get your point, your message across. Meanwhile, you have to be concerned that you wouldn't lose your reader in the process. You must tell your story in such a way to maintain the reader's interest. Finally, the conclusion/point of the story must be plausible enough so that the reader doesn't feel cheated. In other words, the ending shouldn't be contrived. A mark of a good story is that the reader is shaken/delighted/ with the unforeseen/ambiguous, but feasible ending. It forces him to think again of the journey he has just vicariously taken. So he goes back rereading the story, this time more leisurely to savor the words and the narrative that he didn't fully get at the first reading. And if the story is really, really good, a few days or weeks/months later, he revisits the story like visiting an old dear friend. He knows what his old friend would say and act, but he still finds the visit pleasurable and uplifting. Of course, there's a question of taste involved. Not all stories are of the same genre, just like not all humans are of the same, unvaried personality. Generally, we only like and appreciate what we can identify and understand. I cannot stand stories about horror or science fiction. I don't read them and I don't write them.
-"OK, garrulous, long-winded old man. I heard you. Gee, can't you be brief and concise? So, what's your next story about? "
-"I don't know. A story comes to me on its own. I don't go look for it. I'll travel again, in June around the British Isles and Ireland, and in November in Dubai and India. Maybe something will happen during these times, triggering in me a desire to tell a story."
-"Will you travel solo again or in the company of some woman I don't know about?"
-"You're asking too many questions. I'm not popular with women as I've pretended to be. You're the only female friend that I have."
-"You liar! What's about Salomé, the Cuban bitch who called you while you were making love to me?"
-"She's history. Sad, tragic history. I'm in mourning. I was waiting for the right time to break the news to you. She was on the EgyptAir flight that went down in the Mediterranean last Thursday. Her daughter called me last night. Enjoy life, Leslie. Live life with a gusto. Embrace all experiences. Pain is just information. It helps you grow, adjust. Pain is better than Death. Death is Finality, The End of You. Don't go to The End voluntarily. Let The End come to You."
-"Oh, my God. You're not shitting me, are you? I'm so sorry, Roberto. I really am. Oh, my God. No wonder you look like shit and strange. But wait a minute. No, I think you're just a lousy liar. What you just told me was just bullshit, too much of a coincidence. What the fuck Salomé would do in Cairo? She was playing tourist? alone, by herself, a woman pushing seventy? No, I'm not buying that. You just lied to me, Roberto. Salomé didn't die in any goddamn plane crash. You're a fucked-up, stupid liar, Roberto. I'm going to check the names of the passengers. I want to talk to her daughter, the one who had called you about her mother being in that plane. Now tell me the truth about Salomé. Are you still involved with her? Is there a real Salomé? And not some woman you hired, calling you, pretending to be her, in order to impress me? Who is the woman on your iPhone? Is that really Salomé? Please tell me.
-"Leslie, calm down! And please keep your eyes on the road, otherwise you'll get us both killed. Salomé was on that plane. Yes, go ahead and check the names of the passengers. Her full name is Salomé Salvador. Easy to remember. Yes, you can talk to her daughter if you wish. I don't care. My only regret is that I didn't come out and tell her while she was still alive, what she meant to me and yes, in my own improbable, crazy, stupid way, I did love her and that knowing her was good for my soul. Now I only have are the memories and the photos. I miss her laughters and the way she walked. I miss her voice. She helped me crystallize a notion about Love, which is the amalgamation of affection and respect. You cannot love a person without having both affection and respect for the person."
-"Roberto, please be honest with me. Do you love me?"
- (Heavy sigh) "Yes, I do. I just wish you are less volatile, less explosive.To be loved, you must first make yourself lovable. That may sound manipulative and phony, but that's the way things are. You're too much like me. No wonder we fight all the time. It's taxing to my mind. I do need peace and quiet, Leslie. I understand you, but I need you to understand me, too."
May 20, 2016
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