Page 131 of Two Marlboros

There was no intervention from my father.

There was no more love, for that evening, from my mother.

I was left alone, wanderer, the shadow of my mistakes.

I don’t really remember how I got home. Maybe I had taken the subway, maybe I had taken a long walk. All I knew was that I was sitting on the couch in my house, my gaze fixed on the edges of the TV, which I watched split and then lose shape and become an indefinite lump. There was something between me and the TV that was first in focus and then out of focus, in focus and out of focus, until the tired eyes gave space to my thoughts.

What had happened with my mother? I didn’t understand.

My stomach gurgled.

Instinctively I blinked and found my eyes dry. I repeated the action a few more times to moisten them better, but they had been open too long for it not to cause me pain.

The TV became a black blob again. The edges frayed again and soon returned to being a lump without contour. Again, the echo of my thoughts slipped between me and the TV.

I just wanted to challenge my father, provoke a reaction from him, but instead none of this had happened. Nothing.

Another grip on my stomach. From hunger, perhaps, or maybe just from the loneliness I felt. I looked up at the mottled plaster of the ceiling and remembered why I lived there, in that two-room apartment that was falling apart. I had not been able to keep anyone by my side - neither my family nor friends - and what arrangement could better describe what I was? Only that morning I felt better than the others, I wanted to be a champion of justice to get Ryan and Harvey out of the mud, but the truth was that I could not escape from myself and the nothingness that I was.

I thought back to the last few times I had been in trouble. I had picked up the phone and dialed the usual number again, only this time no one would answer. Not to give me comfort, atleast. I didn’t deserve Alan and I didn’t deserve his friendship, much less his helpfulness in difficult times like that.

How could I face another day and another, without my family, without Alan, and without the illusion of feeling on the right side?

Perhaps the only solution was to disappear. A word that seemed so melodious and so easy. Two things in a duffel bag and a one-way ticket.

Disappear...

Di-sap-pear.

Would anyone have noticed? And after how long?

Then I was also supposed to make a living, but how? I was just a bored salesman or a failed architect, depending on your point of view. And the ranch job was still more than a month away.

I realized that in the last period, although I only realized it at the time, whenever I was in trouble a prince on a white horse had always come to my rescue. Only I had had the great idea of shooting a couple of arrows at the prince and letting the horse escape - good move, yes.

I shifted my gaze to the front door, along with that small, faint hope that the prince had found his way on foot anyway and would come to rescue me. Nothing, as was obvious. But suddenly I heard footsteps. Someone was coming up the stairs. One step, two, three, closer and closer. I opened my eyes wide as those footsteps stopped right in front of my front door. And I also opened my mouth wide when I heard an insistent knock.

I sprinted up from the couch and in a few strides I was in front of the door. I didn’t even look through the latch, slid the latch and opened the door, sure to find...

“Hi, Nate. Would you like to watch a movie together?”

...Harvey. With two videotapes in his hand.

“...What?”

He smiled. I didn’t quite know the look on my face at that moment. He waved the tapes in front of my face, and all I could think of was that maybe I could find out more about the ride he and Ryan had gotten into. If only I’d had the strength.

“Nathan? Hello? Will you let me in?”

The autopilot that had taken over my body decided to shake its head.

“No. I mean, I don’t know. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to surprise you and watch something together. Were you expecting someone?”

I couldn’t look him in the eye. He seemed almost like an annoying fly buzzing around you while you were trying to concentrate.

“No,” I replied, and Alan’s face crossed my mind for a moment. “Not really.”

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