Seven Stories for a Summer Afternoon

by Jossy Loes

  Seven Stories for a Summer Afternoon

  Jossy Loes

  Translated by Jasna Drozdek

  “Seven Stories for a Summer Afternoon”

  Written By Jossy Loes

  Copyright © 2018 Jossy Loes

  All rights reserved

  Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.

  www.babelcube.com

  Translated by Jasna Drozdek

  Cover Design © 2018 Rotze Mardini

  “Babelcube Books” and “Babelcube” are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  7 stories for | a summer of afternoon | Jossy Loes

  The Chords of the Heart

  Let's go! Conquering skills!

  1

  A Date at the Cinema

  Smooth loudmouth!

  2

  From the Heart of Tuscany | Do you by chance have a friend who has traveled lately to Tuscany wearing Pinocchio's underpants?

  3

  The Kiss at the Fountain

  I don't know I'm noticing that I have a certain fear of what I can expect regarding these opinions.

  4

  To Gran Canaria with a Surprise Included

  That chest sweat has given a result...

  5

  It Took Me Three Days to Fall in Love with You

  Otherwise, I would have gone to one of those criticism pages and told all the worst about your tourism agency...

  6

  A Second is Enough to Change the Heart | Damned Racket! And damned minefields!

  7

  About the Author

  Thanks

  7 stories for

  a summer of afternoon

  Jossy Loes

  Seven Stories for a Summer Afternoon

  © 2018 Jossy Loes

  1st Edition: July 2018

  SafeCreative: 1806127368981

  Correction: Bárbara Padrón Santana

  Layout By: A. G. Keller

  Cover design: Leticia Blanco

  This is a work of fiction; names, characters, and events described here are products of the author's imagination. Any similarity with reality is pure coincidence. It is prohibited the total or partial reproduction of this book, either electronic or by other means, without the permission of the authors. All rights reserved.

  Other Works of Jossy Loes

  Is Your Name Juliet?

  And You Crossed My Path

  Twelve Opportunities to Live

  The past few summers I have been carried by memories that will be difficult to forget, some bitter, another happy, among them is creating of these stories that were precisely written in the last summers.

  This book of stories is dedicated to each one of those persons who will live experiences similar to the stories that you will find here.

  The Chords of the Heart

  Let's go! Conquering skills!

  1

  Hi, is this seat occupied? —I asked the young woman who was sitting in a chair, next to her suitcase.

  She looked at me, surprised, pointing at me with her finger. Since she wasn't answering, I sat down with my trolley and guitar, waiting for the next flight to Dublin.

  —Well? Are you going to Dublin or Belfast?

  The young woman couldn't articulate any word, she was only blinking, so I needed to talk instead, to let go of everything that was flowing through my mind.

  —Yes, that's me —I told, to get any reaction from her—. I thought that cutting my hair and the baseball cap, together with these huge glasses would help me, but now I see it doesn't. —I looked at her intently and continued—. Do you mind if I pour my heart out a little? It's pressing me and then I promise that you'll be able to take all the selfies that you want.

  The young woman started to blink fast and I figured I haven't said the most appropriate words.

  —Oh, crap! I don't think I expressed myself well.

  I tried to convey confidence with a smile and this time she nodded, so I found some relief. I know that I shouldn't do it, but I got so used to stealing sighs with that gesture that I was making it by inertia. I decided for a while to forget about the guitarist, the pop star and just to be the anxious man who was sitting next to her.

  —You know it? —I said again—. This is the third year that I come back with my suitcase covered with stickers from the places we have traveled across since my song managed to become number one. The third year that I will walk again on the ancient streets of Dublin, the Emerald island, that put my feet on the ground, the island that invites me to come back to see my Irish fairy into which, one fine day, I ran on this same airport.

  She made a small grimace and smiled, thinking that it isn't necessary nice for a fan to hear what he had to confess, but it was the truth.

  —My Irish fairy managed that I learn to love this country.

  Yes, it's the third year that my hands beg to explore again every inch of her whitish body, covered by her golden and rich hair, inviting me to discover it again and again and to take pleasure in it.

  The young woman raised an eyebrow and laughed at my sincerity, I wanted to go back, then I thought that I shouldn't, I was an artist, my songs spoke about feelings, the obstacles of life and this was what I felt. During past three years I have been disappearing for a week and hiding in every alley of this small town that helped me to get to know her.

  Why to lie, it was as if the summer solstice, that pagan festival whose legends are being fueled by fantasies, had become alive for me that year.

  In January 2013 we decided to try our luck when we were invited to participate in a tour all around the Ireland, along with another of the best pop bands at the moment.

  Long rehearsals, lasting until the dawn, which, despite ending with a lot of pain in my wrists and me putting the ice to help my hand to remain in the optimal shape, were rewarded with that contract.

  I believed that I loved the music, I believed that I loved to play, until I met her and it's since then that we had a single purpose, to reach the top. I never thought that year would made me obsessed so that I return to the green country each summer.

  We signed the contract and months after we were oriented on our tour. We had heard stupid rumors and wanted to make sure that our fans would be pleased to know they would have the opportunity to see us close up.

  —My friends and colleagues of the band—I told to the young woman to follow my story—, decided to flirt a bit with a group of girls who were very enthusiastic about having the chance to meet us here, at this same airport.

  "We were all waiting to hear our gate number being announced and, when one girl recognized us, the racket was inevitable. I won't deny that I liked to hear them saying my name and, when I started to play my guitar, the screams were multiplied.

  The young woman sighed and turned defensive. I didn't want to be conceited, I was telling the truth and before she gets up and I tells me some nonsense, I will clarify everything.

  —I know that I sound like a real asshole, but this is my daily life.

  She made a grimace again and crossed her arms. I concluded that I would have at least five more minutes of her attention and decided to continue my story.

  —They asked us to play another song and I started the chords of a remix that we were going to play in the concerts; then I saw her walking, oblivious to the tumult that was beginning to surround us. She stopped and I thought that it was because of the cheers of the fans, but it wasn't, she just adjusted her iPod with the earphones, and, regardless of being stared at, she began waving her finger around, according to the melody that she was listening to.

  "She got all my attention
. Until that moment I could swear she had seen me sideways and ignored me. I immediately stopped playing, handed over the guitar to my friend Niall and got up to follow her. I don't know how to explain it, I wanted to know what she was listening to and why she came closer to us.

  I had that curiosity and wanted to satisfy it, however, a couple of girls stopped me for a few selfies, so I lost the sight of her. I could not despise my followers; some days before our song had reached the number one and it was our best period.

  Somehow, I got rid of the young girls and began to look for her until I found her a couple of seats from the place where the band was. She was reading an adventure novel, accompanied by the constant movement of her finger, her blond hair with that blue t-shirt gave her a look so sweet that I didn't hesitate, but finally sat next to her.

  —Hello —I said—, I am Logan. —She looked at me up and down, raised an eyebrow investigating me so thoroughly that I felt uncomfortable. Instead of responding to my greeting, she returned to her reading and ignored me. That wounded my pride.

  This time the young girl who was next to me bursted into laughter, that was understandable. A pop star had been ignored by a mortal being, so I waited patiently for her to stop laughing, and I went on.

  —Sorry —said the girl—. It's what you deserve —she replied sincerely.

  —I didn't like at all that you made me feel a nobody —I have told the girl; until now I didn't know her name and I realized that I had not asked—. Sorry, I was a boor, I don't know your name.

  She blushed.

  —Nicole.

  —Nice name, Nicole, are you, by any chance, an Irish? —The girl confirmed—. Then, maybe you've crossed paths with my fairy.

  She smiled again.

  —If you don't finish telling me your story, I won't know if I met her.

  —Do you seriously want to hear it?

  Nicole looked at his watch and, at the same time, at the distant screen where they listed the coming departures.

  —Yes, I still have some time.

  I winked at her, smiled and she, in return, rolled her eyes.

  —Okay —I said, in order not to lose her interest—. I was going to end up with that, so I started whistling and snapping my fingers according to one of my songs, waiting to see if she knew it, she stopped moving her finger, looked at me sideways while I was still whistling, I silenced thinking that I had achieved my goal, but she continued her reading.

  I prevented myself from smiling, she was difficult and I liked it. So I used another method and another of the band songs, this time I was clapping against my jeans and again she looked at me sideways, paying attention to the rhythm of my claps, I finished the song, but she went back to her book and continued to ignore me.

  I don't like at all that she made me beg her, I wasn't used to it, so while I was thinking up how to capture her attention, my fairy closed the book, stood up grabbing the handlebars of her suitcase and began to walk. I got up after her, a bit angry by the lack of the interest from her side, and when I reached her, I stopped her.

  —Perhaps you don't recognize me?

  She looked at me carefully.

  —No — she replied, trying to follow her path, but I didn't let her go.

  —Really? —I asked, surprised, stepping back and pointing at myself with my hands and she looked at me again, crossing her arms.

  —I know who you are, Logan Cooper, I have seen you since you got out of the Van, signing autographs and imagining yourselves to be Maroon 5, Coldplay or One Direction and as you don't belong to any of those bands, I'm not going to waste my time on you, would you allow me?

  Nicole bursted into laughter, so I looked around and I put on my cap, I didn't want to call so much attention.

  —I know that I was a complete moron —I admitted to Nicole.

  —Yes, yes you were, but you are still telling me how she made you drooling over her.

  —Punching hard! —I wanted to discuss that issue, but you were right. Nicole shrugged her shoulders and continued—. Since proud Irish girl knocked me out without touching me, I turned around and went back to find refuge among my fans and their praise, an infantile attitude in a moment when my stardom was as great as it could be.

  We boarded the plane in which Niall and Brett made a great atmosphere entertaining the passengers. I wasn't in the mood, it was hard for me to understand why I had been rejected, so I got up to freshen up my face and to change that mood. I made a few steps when our eyes crossed, but hers were radiating hate.

  I shook my head, starting to think what the hell I had done to that girl. Upon leaving the bathroom I felt more puzzled, Brett was lively talking to her, I walked towards them and the worst thing that could happen, happened.

  —Could you take a photo of us? —said my fairy in ironic tone and with a cynical grin.

  She was making fun of me and I wasn't going to allow it.

  —I don't take photos; the others take photo of me and it's not the same if you go around saying that you've taken a photo with the sucker Brett and not with... —I pointed at myself with my hands—. Logan Cooper.

  —Oh, fuck you! —said Brett, shaking his head at my rude comment—. Excuse me —said my friend to another passenger—, could you take a photo of us?

  The man got up and took it while the eyes of my fairy were sparkling withheld wrath, I replied by smiling sideways and left to my seat with mad as a dog because of such contempt.

  Days after arriving in Dublin we had a concert in a festival that began at the end of that week. We went to Connolly station thinking that we wouldn't be recognized and we were wrong, a group of teenage girls saw us and put together a racket.

  Niall had to call our agent to take us out of this difficult situation, he didn't like at all not following the protocol and we returned to the hotel escorted by police. And as if it were a curse, my young fairy was standing at the station.

  My friend greeted her and she smiled back at him; I still remember it and it makes me want to kill him, I ignored her, and the asshole of Brett noticed the tension that existed, so he took advantage of that.

  —Hey, Logan! —shouted the bastard—. Will you now take that photo?

  —I gave him the finger.

  Nicole laughed a lot at my expression. This happened three years ago, but I'm still hating that jerk. I decided to continue with my story, in order to stop the laughter of the young.

  —In an hour and a half we are going to Howth, where would be the concert. We are staying in a hotel one of the festival promoters and we decided to take a trip to the place. According to the guide of the hotel, it was a picturesque village with easy access to cliffs with wonderful views.

  During our time there we would visit around without a problem and we decided to walk a little, so we met a street musician with whom we ended up singing the songs that we all knew.

  For the first time in months, it was great to be able to play without giving autographs or hearing girls screaming, that moment made me remember our beginnings and I felt relaxed.

  Nicole did not like as I referred to my fans.

  —I know that it's not nice from my side —I confessed—. Many times we are bothered more than it's believable and those days we can hardly breathe the air, we didn't think that our fame was so great in Ireland, so, playing any rhythm that wasn't ours was a good therapy of vitality and, when I became more relaxed, I saw her again.

  I tried to follow the rhythm and I could not. My eyes followed her until she got lost among the alleys. I was convinced that we would see never again, in fact, I had listed her as a frigid and haughty. —Nicole changed her face to rebuke me, I raised my hand and asked her to let me finish—. You must understand that I'm a man and I was pissed off by their disdain, meeting her in that small fishing village, it was the last thing that I thought could happen to me.

  I stopped playing, gave my guitar to Niall and followed the road where she disappeared. However, I stopped, it was a small village, so sooner or later I would
find her and I wondered if I would have patience to wait for that to happen.

  That nagging feeling she had gave me at the airport was alive and I wanted to, somehow, make her pay for it, so I walked into the first restaurant that I saw and tried to describe her, but I understood immediately that it was ridiculous. Who would ask in Ireland for a blonde with curly hair and green eyes?

  I clicked my tongue and returned to my companions who were not pleased by my express flee without any explanation, how could I tell them what I wanted to do? They would roll over with laughter, so I blamed the urge to go to the bathroom, but it didn't really help me to get out of the nasty practical jokes.

  Ignored them as you can imagine, I wanted to find that girl and had a couple of days to do this. I refused to believe that she was just another tourist, she was walking, confident in herself, with her eyes closed, as if she knew where she was stepping, accompanied by this characteristic movement of her finger.

  It began to rain, as usual, and our small tourist route was shortened and ended in a restaurant in which we were instantly recognized and asked to play a couple of songs.

  I accepted if they would teach me how to play the bodhrán.[1] That's what we did that afternoon. We returned to the hotel after dancing, drinking beer like Cossacks and playing typical instruments.

  I was anxious because of the adrenaline rush in my body and, for some strange reason, I remembered my fairy. Her face kept popping up in my mind so I searched for my book, wrote phrases and words that made no sense, finishing the first stanza of "You disappear by magic".

  —Wait —said Nicole—. That song has always reminded me of Howth.

  I smiled sideways.

  —Howth changed my life. —Nicole opened her mouth and smiled openly. She settled back to continue listening to me, so I felt relief that was calming my nerves—. The next day we were invited to the castle of Howth, which was next to the hotel, a visit that had been planned by our agent to win over the promoters of the festival. I got dressed and had my breakfast unhurriedly.