Page 149 of Two Marlboros

Just before the evening was over, he had looked at me with those eyes, asking me to take that step that would change our relationship; and if we did, if I did, maybe we would have secluded ourselves somewhere else, and our paths would never have crossed with those guys. But if I had even given in a little earlier, while we were under that big tree, it certainly wouldn’t have happened. Maybe we wouldn’t have taken two steps and opted to go back home. Maybe we would have even gone back together to one of our homes.

I had done it all wrong and hadn’t done enough. I stood there thinking and he, on the other hand, was struggling between life and death. I hadn’t done anything, and I wasn’t doing anything at that time either. Why wasn’t I groping the doctors, asking them to tell me something anyway, wondering why the fuck they weren’t saying anything?

Any way I looked at it, I could have done something. I hadn’t really wanted to. The grip of those two had not been so strong that I could not break free. I had tried, but I hadn’t done it hard enough. And that club had come down on him too many times and those kicks had destroyed him. He was terrified. Would I ever see him smile again?

He was breathing. When help had arrived, he was still breathing.

Also, there was money. How was he going to pay for all that? Could it be that there was no one willing to take care of him?

I would have helped him, as much as I could. I would have done everything for him. But it was just a way to wash my conscience, I knew it. It was easy to help someone by paying for his medical care. More difficult was to do it by trying to fight, to lash out against six individuals.

It was easier not to free yourself, huh?

My conscience would never believe the fact that I had tried everything and beyond to free myself and to tell them not to hurt him. And now he was there, who knows where, who knows in what state. If he didn’t make it, surely, he deserved a place in Heaven. And why did he alone have to go there and not me? Who was I to leave him alone?

Outside, it was raining.

And my bare feet on the terrace floor had never been so cold.

“Alan, stop!”

Two arms pulled me back into the hospital’s recreation room. My feet were still cold and wet. I almost slipped, but it was no big deal.

Nelly could not understand. Her brother had died, but she was not there that day, she could not have changed the course of events. I, on the other hand, could. I was there for her brother, and I was there for Nathan. I had destroyed them. I had annihilated them.

“Are you alright?”

She brought her hands to my face and wiped away the raindrops. They kept soaking my face, nonstop.

“Alan...!”

Her eyes were full of emotion. I had only death on my mind. I couldn’t stand that silence any longer.

“Alan, he is alive. He is alive, do you understand?”

He is alive, I repeated. Yes, perhaps he was. I had barely twisted my ankle. They had given me crutches, but I had no use for them. They were useless and cumbersome… useless! Useless!

“Calm down!”

Nelly picked up the crutches from the ground. I didn’t even realize I had thrown them away. They were so useless. She leaned them against a small sofa.

“Say something, please.”

There it was, again, that feeling. I wanted to be alone. In my own bubble. But maybe that was too hard to understand, wasn’t it? I had to repent, to regret what I had done.

“It’s my fault. If-”

“Stop it! Stop this!”

It also rained on Nelly’s face. Her lips trembled. But it was easy for her to talk. She didn’t even know who he was, Nathan. He was just some guy. Someone who had almost been killed because of me.

Knowing he was alive didn’t make me feel better. I needed him. I needed everything he had given me in those weeks, the life he had brought back into me. At that moment, though, maybe he was the one who needed someone, and that someone was certainly not going to be me. Because I had almost killed him.

“I’m sure you did what you could. You can’t fix everything, do you understand?”

No, no. But I certainly could have done more, if only I had really wanted to.

I needed the hours to pass and for someone, when I woke up, to tell me that everything would be alright. But what kind of man would I have been if I had stopped, even for a moment, feeling sorry for Nathan?

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