Singing Snowberg
Chapter Three
Hide-and-seek <1>
“I’m lying to myself,” I lie to myself. No, I’m just not sure if it’s a lie, nobody would lie to himself, right? Everything is perfect for me, all I need to do is open my eyes. Try harder, the moon is about to hide into the horizon and you’ll see nothing. Try again, harder, please, the darkest dawn is at dawn.
Great, the illusion of this dream is torn apart thanks to my eyelids and now I see the ceiling. The lamp by the bed is opened, I didn’t close it before I fell asleep. The tiny window is black, can’t tell the time. The clock, 4 o’clock, hum. Wait, where’s Salix? Did he left? Can’t be. “Salix. Salix. Salix.” Where’re you? I need you.
When I was about to open the door and go for his cell I hear a sound from the toilet. He’s in the toilet, sobbing. “I’m coming in,” I screw the knob and push the door open. He’s all naked sitting on the floor. “Oh my gracious God, you’ll catch the cold, brother,” I’m about to cry, too.
I settled him on the bed, he’s still unstable. “What’s wrong?” Maybe it’s too shameful to tell, he ignored me. “Okay, if you don’t want to talk... please don’t sit on the floor and wear nothing.” No answer. “I’m worrying you, do you want beer? Juice?” He reacts finally, with a head shake. “You hate me?” No reaction, I guess he does, but why?
I turn off the light, tug myself in. Suddenly everything has changed, is it for the dream? I hope I could see him again in my dream, just hope. He unexpectedly turns to me, and now is hugging me. Joder! What’s this? He doesn’t speak, not sobbing anymore. I can feel his chest, expanding and contracting slower and deeper. I feel good. Does he want to make love? I move my thighs. Do I want to do it with him? I don’t know what he meant but he just turned me on. I turn to him, I can feel his breath but can’t see his face. We are keeping this silence.
“Salix, what’s this about?” No answer, but he grabs my hand and lead it to his groin. “What happened? Salix?” This is not right, but I want him. “You love me?” His breath gets stronger and closer. “Salix. Salix? Salix.” Nothing happens next, so I take the advantage. We did it in the utter darkness and we did everything I like because he was like a puppet following my every lead, we didn’t make too much sound because he kept silence always, he didn’t even call for pain when I entered him.
When the alarm ringed I feel him trying to slide out of my arms. “Do you feel good?” Oh yes, Salix you finally spoke something! “Yes, does it hurts?” He forces a smile, “it’s okay. Cyano.” “Call me Mr. Gram.” “Vale, señor Gram.” His smile broadens, he’s happy again, I jump up and cuddle him into the shower.
I’m curious about his crying last night, but it’s not the time to ask him out, presume he thought of his past. Everyone has his past, the good ones, the bad ones. The latter make us cry, made Salix cry. The wounds, some of them heal itself through time, some last forever. Does he cried for the bad wounds?
In this case I borrowed a psychology book from the library. Interestingly, there’re lots of books of this kind. This book talks about the application of the meditation therapy, I’m going to try it out tonight.
“Cyano, clean the room 008!” A voice came from the nurse station 2 corridors away. “On my way.” It has to be a purple puddle I have to clean.
“Hello Cyano great to meet you.” I don’t know his family name, “morning, Willowen.” Grab my mop, I’m about to clean it. But Willowen takes it from me, “let me do it.” Okay, I’ll see you do it.
He’s very gentle with the mopping, “how old are you Cyano.” “Twenty five.” He went into the bathroom and now washing the mop, “I’m 45 years old and I’ve been here for 3 years I suppose. I puke every time I eat something I don’t like.” But is it purple every time? If it is, you’re strange indeed. “What thing? Exactly.” He takes my rug, kneels down, “I don’t know but not everything. They locked me here for this.” Hum, very bad.
“Would you kindly go to room 239 for me she might reply.” Okay, perfect reason for me to leave.
I need some air, the smoking room is where I’ll go, hope it’s empty.
This is my lucky day, it’s empty. But why? All the walls are made of semitransparent glass, they’re this obsessed with glasses? One foot on the corridor and the other on the smoking room, I open that book again.
“Mind happiness comes from the stability of your present status of the body, try to make a little space and stick to that place for our upcoming meditation courses. It’s best to have a friend you can trust reading them for you....”
“Fuck...”, what? Who would say something this horrible? That’s a girl, turning around and leaving. She’s Sunder. I’ve carved her looks on my heart, I won’t mistake her with anyone else.
“What are you doing here?” “I lost sleeps, I need pills.” She shows me a paper prescript and lights her cigarette. The smoke flies through the venting fans, the smell of orange is filling this room. She gave me one, oh the cigarette is a good thing. My head is filled with the smell of orange. I remember Rosa and me once shared a blueberry one, it did create illusion in your head. Rosa said that was the best virtual experience she ever felt. The walls of my room became purple blue, blueberries were dancing in the air. We snatched them in joy, in the end our hands and clothes were stained with purple and blue.