This morning I woke up to, not a text, not a phone call, but to Polo, Guzman, and Ander standing outside the front door I left wide open last night. They see me standing there in last nights attire, they see the frightened look on my face, and I'm expecting criticism but that's not what I get.
Instead Guzman is holding something out to me; a gift of some sort.
I take it from him and I'm about to say 'thank you' before I figure out what it is exactly but then Guzman is speaking.
"I needed to apologize. What happens in my family isn't for you to worry about but from what I hear you prevented something really rough last night." He side eyes Polo and Polo stays silent.
I take a deep breath, then, oh so sincerely I say, "Los humanos son raros." Humans are weird, "Nosotros decimos: "Es una locura." Descedente. No decimos: "Levantate en el amor." Hay in el la idea del la caida."
I step aside and allow them in to my home. The three of them spread out around the countertop bar that devides out kitchen from the living room. They're silent and waiting for me to keep talking. So I do, "Siempre hay un viculo curioso, en algun momento, entre la caida y la creacion."
I do as my crazy brother suggested and move over to our bright shiny black fridge and begin pulling out some modellos. Hispanic boys like that, right? I, however, as I keep talking, pour myself a crystal glass of sangria and then start slicing an orange. I say, "Tomar este riesgo espantoso es la condicion para que haya vida. Toda vida es un acto de fe. un acto de apuesta."
Essentially what I've been explaining to them, and their dumstruck, idiot, boy faces, is that when it comes to love we fall into it. We don't say were rising into love. There is in it the idea of the fall. It goes back fundamentally that there is always that strange tie at some point between the fall and the creation. Taking the risk is the condition of making new life. Life is a gamble. Of course you've gotta say a lot more in spanish to get the point across but they're still listening and i'm ignoring that fear in the back of my mind that my accent is off and it all sounds stupid.
I just can't quit looking at Polo and talking. I tell them, "The moment you take a step you do so on an act of faith. How do you know the floor isn't going to give out beneath your feet. The moment you undergo any human relation ship. What an act of faith. You've given yourself up. This is the most powerful thing that can be done. Surrender. Love is an act of surrender to another person. Total abandonment. "I give myself to you", "take me.", and "do what ever you like to me."
"That's fucking crazy right?" I look over at Guzman and Ander.
Ander's finished his modello and taken it upon himself to get into my wine. I don't mind. That's why it's there. Tyson says everything is about moments. He says a lot of things. I'm saying a lot of things right now but they seem uninterested in the idea of letting me stop. Are they even here? Are they just hallucinations too?
So I continue, "It's letting things get out of control. All sensible people keep things in control. We say, "Miralo, miralo. Miralo guardas. vigilancia. Miralo. Policia... Dioses. Quien va a ver los dioses?" Watch it. Watch it. Guards, watch it. Vigilence. Watch it. Police... Gods. Who's going to watch the Gods, "I guess what I'm trying to say is what's really sensible is to let go. It is to let go. To give ones self up. So it goes to show that... in madness lies sanity."
"Make yourselves at home." I tell them, "I need a shower."
They're still staring at me as I walk away. I found myself very concerned that I had left three people I don't know in my house unoccupied. Still, I was unpresentable and that makes me feel worse than being stolen from. I have nothing of real raw value anyhow except my journals and who's going to steal those...
Then again Tyson's whole anti-secret-government agenda he has going on might be affected by this. The hot water eases my anxieties and then those ghosts appear. I'm never alone when I shower but most of the time the company doesn't bother me. They offer up ideas and daydreams that make the process go by faster; shampoo, rinse, turn the shower head away, lather conditioner, contemplate the complexity of concepts that cause me to feel crushed under the weight of the world, scrub my skin until I feel like it's peeling off of me, rinse, pull the lever and freeze myself until I turn blue, then silence. The intrusive thoughts all stop.
As I'm shaving the invisible blonde hairs that layer my neck like otter fur I begin to think about the boys in my living room. Of course I can dream about Polo until I lose all time but that's pointless. Why did Ander show up? He is Guzman and Polo's best friend but he has nothing to do with the situation does he? Is there a situation? Or are they honestly just suddenly so very interested in me? His white shirt has designs on it that look like an animated fencing. Nothing like the loose tank top I'm pulling on over my head. Mine is blood red with some pink roses on it. Why do I feel like those two images have a lot more to do with one another than is possible to utter out loud.
Then there's Guzman and the gift he gave me. I don't know why, exactly, but I did bring it in here with me. Do I dare open it? Is it some horrible joke where I'm the punchline? or is it something useful? I didn't keep his sister from running away with the scruffy bandit but I do think I'm partially responsible that something that was supposed to happen did not. Death doesn't like to be cheated. Is that the truth though, did I cheat death?
I force myself to listen to my own brother's voice creeping in, "Sometimes you just got to... change the genera."
He's right. I have to stop being so cryptic. Having friends isn't the end of the world. I mean, no one said they were my friends but here's an amazing opportunity to change that. So, after I've pulled on my navy blue denim shorts I choose to shut my eyes and change my way of thinking. Just because I stopped someone from committing murder it does not mean the I am at fault. That's what someone broken would think.
I have to take my therapists advice and stop thinking of myself as broken. Just like I did with my little speech in there. That can't happen again though, William. No one likes a friend who talks too much. So I hang up my towel and throw my clothes in that ugly pale blue hamper Tyson refuses to part with, and I go out into the hall. There's silence.
When I enter the living room I find the house is empty. They've left. I should have known it would be rude of me to leave company alone. Did they take anything? I'm about to go check my brother's room and I hear laughter. My eyes move without my body but the rest of me eventually catches up. I turn to look out that big glass window and there they are, out at the doc, playing in the water like kids. Polo is tackling Ander off the doc and Guzman is doing laps beside them. There's people boating across the lake. Jet skis are humming. For some reason there's a giant beach ball.
There's only one thing missing; the music.
It's why I'm here. I know who I am. I know where I stand. Music is my life. It's the role I'm supposed to play. I grab my guitar, some sheet music, my journals, a towel, my brown sandals (A worn out pair of Rainbows) and I go outside. The sun feels nice on my skin, like summer is already here. The gravel rolls beneath my feet. The grass seems to sway away as my legs trudge through. I'm looking down at my music when behind me I hear tires coming to a stop.
I turn around and there are the girls. Nadia, Luceria, the March Princess, oh and look there's Nadia's brother. What the Hell is his name? They're all at my house, I scowl. No stop it. They're all at my house, I smile. They've earned it. They've had a stressful fucking year. I mean give reference to the fact that Guzman's father finally got out of prison, this encouraged an honest deep conversation with his father that led to some truths coming out between him and Luceria who also had a heart to heart. This I can tell because Nadia's brother is standing by her all sympathy like and she's smiling in a way that she hopes is friendly but looks like humble pain and Nadia herself is running into the excited arms of a soaking wet Guzman.
Why is the march princess here and where is her pet monkey-man? None of my business.
Still, despite that fact, I'm given an answer. Samu and Christian show up on their moter cycles leaving marks in the driveway. I'd complain but at least people are here. Are they here? Have I medicated today? I did start drinking really early this morning? Was it early? I haven't even checked the time. Samu walks up and offers me a gift. It looks similar to Guzman only Guzman doesn't do a good job at wrapping gifts and Samu does but again I can't complain. I don't receive gifts that often.
I thank him and rest my guitar down to go put the present inside. I place it carefully next to the other one and decide to open them when I'm alone. I don't do well at expressing gratitude when it's important. Lots of scowls in my memory with that one but I shrug it off and return to the crowd outside. Lawn chairs have been popped open. There's a cooler and someone brought their own alcohol. This is changing the genera, right?
As I'm arriving I'm given another answer to a question I never asked out loud because Ander and Nadia's brother are slinging heavy nerf mallots at one another and Ander almost slipped so that name came out of his mouth just before he slipped over the side, "Omar!" and Omar so willingly dives in after him. The sun is already starting to set. The orange and purple smear that is the ocean is so pretty.
I'm returning to my spot where there's my guitar and my journals and some music sheets and less than five feet away is a boy with his back to me. I smell it before I see it. Burning birch. He's started a controlled fire. He turns to look at me and he's smiling. It's Polo. He's got a lot he wants to say but I'm sure he's worried about the language barrier. I pick up my guitar and throw my self in a fun little melody.
Guzman and Samu are about ten feet away when I hear them scream. I look to the right and there's this flaming green thing flying at me. I slide my guitar away from me and roll over top of my papers to protect them from the flame and the rocket finds the base of my bare foot. The sandal must have busted. Damn it. Now I'm on fire, in pain, and people are staring at me.
"Que Mierda, Guzman!" I hear Luceria scream.
I call out to Polo because he close to me, "Ayuda! Estos son muy importantes para mi."
He's quick to gather the pieces of my life's work and set them neatly to the side and suddenly I'm aware of how little I must weigh because he's picked me up and I'm no longer on the ground and this is weird. He's in a panic.
I ask out loud and kind of panicked myself, "Why am I in the air?"
I'm not the only thing that's on fire. Guzman, Samu, and Christian are attempting, to no avail, in exstinguishing the flame on Christian's bike- ha! That's funny. Poor Carla ruined her precious, Luviyon bathing suit cover to the flame. Everyone's out of the water. There's a spinning bottle of sprite. An entire gallon of Sangria is just shattered, that's so sad. And I'm still in the air.
So, again I ask, "Why am I in the air?"
Polo's kind of freaking out, "Estas sangrando profusamente!"
I look down and see blood all over my leg and the ground around where he's standing and I feel woozy so I start laughing. Then everyone's staring at me and I can't stop laughing. Nadia looks over at Carla and starts laughing and Carla just starts laughing too. The boys finally put out the fire to the bike and they too all start laughing. Poor Polo though looks on the verge of a nervous breakdown, "Podrias perder tu maldito pie, universo."
"I have a first aid kit, it's extensive. I blow shit up all the time." I tell him.
He looks at me a little confused and I'm very worried he didn't understand me s I say, "Piso superior."
The next thing I knew the party is back in full swing and they're all focused on each other as Polo is focused on me. Still, this party has no music and that's a problem. I hear the music. I hear him coming to get me. I hear him picking me up. I hear his panic. He is suddenly the source of my melody and that's also a problem because there's no way this is real, right? I don't deserve- shut up William. You are worth more than you assume. Let's just see what happens.
He's got me on that couch I love so much and he's wrapping up my foot. He's cleaned it up and disposed of the unclean garments. I feel like a wounded soldier getting pampered by a war nurse. Only this one's pretty and a boy and he's gentle and masculine but knows what he's doing. How to be soft, how to be firm. Where to band it to hold it all in place.
"Where did you learn first aid?" I ask.
He smirks, "Mi madres. A boy learns a lot from women who try to over- uh..." He's trying so hard, "Concentrate?"
"Compensate?" I ask.
He nods, "Yes! That's the word."
So he does know English. Maybe I was just overwhelmed and talking too much again. I'm looking over at the table. There's a busted pen leaking ink all over that really pretty lavender cloth. Oh, forget Tyson's frustration. That's super sad. I wouldn't even know where to find one that pret- Oh... Is this right? His lips on mine? I'm so very confused but it does feel so nice. I'm leaning in. I feel his hands on my warm tan sides and his face burrow into my neck.
"Polo..." I say.
He furrows a brow and pulls away, frightened, as though he'd done something wrong. I smile at him, "La fiesta. Nessecito musica. podemos jugar mas tarde."
He laughs. It's sweet and it's cute and it's loud and it's real. There is no sillouette. There is no hallucination. This is real.
I help myself back downstairs and Polo goes ahead of me to ensure I don't fall. We're still guys after all so I don't need to bank on him entirely. We're supposed to incite some dominance in our own lives from time to time. This makes me look tough where as Polo looks like a gifted hero. Which he is. I'm not entirely sure about myself in that scenerio. When you're on medications it can make you convince yourself you're weak but I don't know... I didn't scream when I got shot with a rocket. I didn't cry when i got caught on fire. I freaked out about my music but what artist doesn't lose their mind when it comes to their creations being threatened?
When we've rejoined them all we're greeted with a cheerful amount of applause by the group that has now gathered around the controlled fire. They sit on logs sipping sauce out of bottles and laughing amongst themselves. Samu and Guzman are so apologetic and I do not expect this from Christian for he too almost lost something important to him. I lean over and ask, "Lo logro?"
He smiles, "Si."
They ramble on about nonsensicle things I wish I understood but I don't for you had to be there and I most certainly was not. No one talks about the previous night or the fact that they didn't know me till then. In fact the way they make me feel important is so sweet and simple I don't hear it at first.
It's Luceria, "William?" She calls out to me again so my ears tune in.
I look up at her from my guitar to the sparkle of the fake red flower dipped in jewels in the band she's using to part her straight, brown, damp hair. She's all but lost that hatefulness in her face when she says to me in her best American accent (which I should note is pretty good), "Nadia says you and Polo are planning on introducing a music group to Las Encinas. Do you have something big planned?"
I look over at Polo who's confused and waiting expectantly for me to explain. So I say, as I look out at them all, "Uh, Si. "Dear Evan Hansen" Alungo de ustedes conoce la produccion de Broadway?"
Nadia is the only one to raise her hand and I assure her, "Besides you." I'm smiling, probably bigger than I have in a while, "We had that conversation last night."
She nods and Guzman looks at her expectantly, as if he is teasing he's jelous. There's no way he's jelous over little ol' me but this does not stop Polo from getting closer to me. His hand finds my leg and peoples eyes find his hand so we leave it at that. I strum my guitar, "This song is called A little closer and it's probably my favorite song in the whole musical..."
The song is perfect for the end of a perfect day. It's soft and full of tenor whispers and foreshadows a summer worth having,
"Spent so many seasons lost inside my mind
Lost... inside... my mind...
Like a message in a bottle
I thought nobody would find
That no... body... would find. "
Omar has taken his spot between Ander's legs, pressing his head to the sturdy chest behind him. Nadia has her head on Guzman's shoulder and he's playing with her hair. The fire cackles, another bottle squeaks as it's opened, and the crickets seem to play their strings in time with mine.
"I've been drifting, I've been dreaming
I would land upon the shore.
To a haven, to a harbor
that felt so far before."
Then I'm looking at Polo and his diamonds are sparkling in the light of the flame. He's looking at me in some way a little different than the wounded puppy. I was the wounded puppy this time so now we've moved into a different emotion. The first chorus hits and it's real.
"Well today, today
What felt so far away feels a little closer
for today, today, today
feels a little closer."
It's a slow song. Not necessarily easy but I don't have to try too hard to be impressive for it's not about the performance it's about the feeling. I've got plenty of places to draw inspiration from. The march princess looks a lot less of a 22 year old in college and more like the rest of us average seventeen year olds. Samu has worked his way over to sitting closer to Luceria.
So on into the next verse I trudge so that I can go ahead and tell the story,
"How long these days and darkness
At the bottom of a well.
That old familiar well
Sittin heavy with these secrets
with nobody to tell, no body to tell."
I can tell by the sudden shift of all their eyes. To the skies, the lake, the fire. They know. This entire musical must be about them. The anonymous ones and tonight, for the first time. It feels... I decide to get a little goofy with my presentation, curl my words a little less worrisome like, big half grin, play to the crowd instead of at them.
"High above; the streak of sunlight
And a wall too high to climb.
All the reaching, all the wanting
just to tumble every time."
I know I've won because they're smiling back at me. This story feels familiar but I'm letting them know it's nothing to worry about. With nothing but my voice and this guitar I'm telling each one of them that it's finally different.
"But today, today
what felt so far away feels a little closer.
For today, today, today
it feels a little closer."
Luceria has noticed Samu. She has not moved away so maybe that's a good sign. Guzman kisses Nadia. I catch Omar as he's placing his hand on the side of Ander's face just to look into those eyes. I feel that tug of my hallucinations and my chaos but it's all in bliss. A part of me wonders if any of the rest of them can hear the symphony in my head. Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful.
So I finish out my song for them with the final verse and the wrapping up chorus,
"And the day carries on
The clouds come rolling in and then they're gone.
and the days keep coming on"
Oh, it's my favorite line right here:
Slowly now, "The midnight sky... turns... to dawn."
"Today, today
What felt so far away feels a little closer
For today, today, today
it feels a little closer."
All there eyes fall on me as I play that fun little melody to indicate the song is just about over and none of them would dare dream of missing it.
"A little closer.
It feels a little closer
A little closer.
It feels a little... closer..."
I finish out the piece and it's peace that falls over the lake. The neighbors across the depth of it all have winded down. They're all easing into their partners and then someone's got a blue tooth so, of course, it's my playlist I set on for them. Three hours, then it'll loop back. The battery will die before sunrise and I know they'll have found a comfortable place to sleep for the evening. As for me... Polo has intentions and I intend to listen to that song alone.
