The Foreigners - Maxine Swann [65]
I told him.
“Oh, that’s bad. Let me just check something. You look very pale.” He checked my pulse, my glands, my tongue, my eyeballs. When he was finished, he sat back. “It seems like you’re all right, but you have to get out of here, get up, move around. What about your water project? You should do some research or write it up or something. Okay, listen, I’ve got a client downstairs. I’ll pick you up as soon as I’m done.”
“So what are you going to do?” Gabriel asked once he’d come back upstairs and found me in nearly the exact same position.
“I don’t know.” I felt weak.
“You know what? I think you should get some other sex in your life.”
“Oh,” I said. It was really the last thing on my mind. I felt so weak.
“You know ‘eros’ is life, they say.”
“Mmm, maybe.”
“C’mon, I’ll go with you.”
I pointed at myself. “Now?”
“Sure. Why not?”
He took me to a little bar on a corner. It looked familiar. Then I remembered, I’d been here at the beginning with Leonarda. We went downstairs and ordered whiskies. There were a few people, not many, milling around. It was way early for Buenos Aires. The place was like a firetrap for sure, dark with no exits. Cell phones here and there illuminated people’s faces. Gabriel by this light looked very delicate, his skin pink and gold.
The whiskey warmed me up in a great way. A song came on and Gabriel and I went out onto the dance floor. There was no one else dancing. We danced theatrically, interpreting the songs. I had never really danced that way with anyone. At one point, I looked up, peering into his face. Could we be in love?
We sat down again at the bar. A young man was checking Gabriel out.
“Anyone you like?” Gabriel asked, looking around.
I hadn’t been in this situation for so long, since before my marriage really.
“I think you should turn,” Gabriel said. “Yeah, that’s right, rotate, no, to your left. There’s a guy there who’s looking at you.”
I turned slightly, glanced.
“You have to turn a little more,” Gabriel said.
“I’m not sure I can do this right now,” I said.
“Of course you can. I’m going to look away. I don’t want him to think you’re with me. Smile. Say hi. Or just smile, that’s enough. When you do talk, show some accent. People like that. Sexy and helpless. Exotic, whatever.”
I did turn and did smile.
“Hi,” the guy said. “Do you want to dance?”
We danced. This was okay, it felt easier than talking anyway. At one point, we even danced close and I could feel his dick clearly in his pants.
We danced a few more songs. Gabriel was now talking to the guy who’d been watching him.
A little bit later, my guy asked, “You want to come home with me?”
I shrugged. I guess that had been the plan, right? “Okay,” I said.
I went and told Gabriel and got my things.
In the taxi, I felt completely baffled that I was going home with this guy. Is this really what people do? I didn’t say anything.
Happily, when we got to his place, the guy, whose name was Pablo, had some pot. This changed things. After taking a few puffs, I felt that I was shimmering, flowing, and everything around me was shimmering and flowing too. I leaned forward to sip my drink.
Rather than a repulsive creature worthy of scorn or a possible menace, the guy I was with seemed like a warm animal body sharing this room with me, someone who, if need be, I could cuddle up to.
It’s surprising how little, in these circumstances, people wish each other harm.
I did move over toward him and cuddled in his armpit. He put his hand down and caressed my hair. This is what people do, I thought. They meet and within an hour or two are cuddling into each other’s armpits, stroking each other’s hair.
twenty-two
I solde had left me lots of messages to which, in my fugue state, I hadn’t replied. Now I called her back. We met. She was ebullient. She had found a job. She told me all about it.
The organization, run by a woman named Alicia, auctioned off art and gave the proceeds to charity groups for children. Perfect, everything Isolde was interested in. She’d begun