This was also true of my Sofia, who always had a terrible time breathing. There was something wrong with her lungs, throat, and nose. Actually, there wasn’t a single part of her body that wasn’t part of the problem.
There’s a chance my Sofia is dead, though I perish the thought and God should forbid it. She wasn’t a well woman when I knew her and I doubt she’s improved. People almost never get better, especially the horrible ones. If such is the case, if my Sofia is indeed dead, then I can see myself not filling the humidifiers up with water anytime soon.
My family always made sure my humidifiers were filled with water. They made sure I was propped up under enough pillows to allow for easy breathing. Those people loved me dearly and it’s a shame what happened to them.
I would lie awake at night and listen to my Sofia struggle for breath. Sometimes she would ask me to do her in with a pillow. She would tell me she couldn’t take it anymore, that her whole body was killing her.
My Sofia’s body was a marvel on the outside. I would tell her to think of her body as something I could enjoy, something intended for me, something that she had to put up with for a greater good.
Part of the greater good turned out to be Teddy. I never caught them in the middle of each other, but I know what I know.
I only once tried to make love to Tanya.
There was nothing about Teddy that should make anyone want to run away with him. He never once stumbled into his bathroom, looked into the mirror and wanted to kiss himself. I can promise anyone this much.
I never watched Teddy do his work in the field. If I was at his place during the day, I was either spying on his parents tangled up in the living room or looking through the pictures next to his bed.
My Sofia and Tanya and Teddy and I all grew up together, which only means that for a while there we attended the same schools, spent a certain amount of time and anguish together in close proximity.
When I look out the window I see no one almost all the time. Once in a while, I imagine someone coming up the walk. Usually it is my Sofia, under a parasol, aiming to take advantage of me.
The school was populated with the kinds of horrible people you find all over.
The pills in the medicine cabinet are painkillers and sleeping pills. This is because I am in a great deal of pain and can’t sleep, very like my Sofia, if she is still alive.
I remember being out there after school, waiting for my Sofia. I wanted to walk her home, see her to the door. Otherwise, the neighborhood kids, my school chums, would chase her down and do unspeakable things to her. I heard them planning to do this during lunch.
Teddy was the worst of these hooligans, the ringleader.
I would see them hiding in the bushes as we walked past, hoping to catch her alone, take advantage of her poor peripheral vision, spring an ambush on her.
Because we are talking about truly horrible people here, like my school chums, we have to make ourselves clear. Truly horrible people aren’t horrible because they take things the wrong way, but it doesn’t help matters, but what would I have to gain, in the end, after all is said and unsaid, done and undone, what’s in it for me, pointing all of this out, going on the record as it were, making myself clear, understood, being as I am here, alone and surrounded.
Everyone always took what I said about Tanya the wrong way.
My Sofia surrounds me all the time, even though she is not here anymore. She always takes things the wrong way or used to take things the wrong way back when she was around to take anything at all.
My Sofia, I do not know where you are, but I pray for your ambushed soul.
Whether you are dead or alive, Sofia, I do this for you regardless.
In that moment, as I’m about to open the medicine cabinet and swallow all of the painkillers and sleeping pills, I think of my Sofia and Tanya, who might someday see me on the boulevard, who might someday return and who’d want to touch the hem of my garment, tuck a tassel of hair behind my ear, who’d want to kiss me on the mouth as well, good God.
I think of the mother who nursed me, the father who schooled me, the brothers and sisters who bathed and dressed me. These were only sometimes horrible.
I think most of them are dead now.
So many people are either dead or gone. What I mean is, they either died or they left when everyone else started dying off.
The night I tried to make love to Tanya started with a light supper prepared by my Sofia. She made a traditional dish that all of us enjoyed, that took hours to prepare. When I say all of us, I mean my Sofia, Tanya, and me. Teddy wasn’t invited.
