by Diane Baumer
The word he made all alarms in the family go off.
“Do you have a boyfriend? Is he serious, hardworking, honest…? Does he love you? I hope you’re luckier than you were last time, baby. Be careful – you are pretty naïve.”
The girl did not have enough time to respond. Grandpa, though he was still breathless, stood up as lightly as a kid. The seriousness of the matter demanded his immediate intervention. The greatest of his fears was close on the verge of becoming reality.
“If you marry a foreigner, you’ll never live with us again. Working abroad is one thing, but getting married there is quite a different matter. I have the right answer. My friend Nikolai recently became a widower. He is a man of great intelligence and owns a traditional livestock he now refers to as eco-friendly – he exports products charging three times their value. Being with him, you wouldn’t be short of anything. Vasyl loves it there. Hey, grandson – would you like to pay Nikolai a visit?”
“Yes...” the boy said covering his ears.
“You see?” he said firmly before sitting down again.
“That man is eighty years old and only has a handful of animals. Don’t make your granddaughter dizzy,” the mother said.
Endzela put the khachapuri inside the oven while the other two argued.
“Nikolai will respect you,” she heard him say angrily.
“No doubt he will – he can’t even stand,” the mother answered back, laughing.
Endzela described François in great detail so they would rest assured. She just happened to omit the fact that her boyfriend had a lover.
“Daughter, I hope he really loves you and is making you happy. You’re a great person.”
Grandpa nodded worriedly.
“Endzela, listen to me. Come back home. My friend Nikolai has the cows that give the most milk in the area. A man who is so good at milking definitely knows how to make a woman happy.”
The mother flinched.
“Grandpa, please…”
“Moo, moo...” Vasyl said.
Endzela was hectic in the kitchen. Her mother did not want to distract her. Nothing would pain her more than being to blame for a cooking disaster. The woman put an end to the conversation by ignoring the whining of the old man, who still had several arguments to support Nikolai.
Vasyl blew a kiss onto his small hand. Endzela did the same thing.
“Three, two, one... Go!”
Both blew their kisses, wishing the air would carry them from one country to the other. Holding back her tears, she said goodbye to everyone.
François was looking sullen when he arrived home. He had been in a predicament for acting as a salesman of a canvas to a Mexican drug dealer whose name was Chulo Torres – the painting belonged to Théodore Dubois. François had previously thought he would leave it in storage for years, yet Dubois now demanded the piece. François knew that the only way out would be to order a copy from a forger, embracing all the related risks.
Endzela, who was dressing in the color of Belgian spring lavender fields, filled him with her kisses.
“Are you okay? You aren’t looking good,” she asked worriedly, blaming some medical condition for his appearance. The Georgian had never imagined François could embroil in such kind of deals.
“I need you to do me a favor. Do you drive?”
“Yes, yet I always ride a motorcycle. I guess I may not have forgotten how to drive a car. Why?”
“I want you to go to Germany and bring something from there.”
“So far away? You’ll be coming with me, won’t you?”
François nodded.
“Someone being a rogue has ripped me off, so I’ll need you to help me and ask no questions. Will you agree to that? Will you do that for me? Do you love me?”
“Of course! Yet I wonder if that would be dangerous. I have a son...”
“It won’t be dangerous. I would never put you at risk. I need to stand aside, and you are the only person I can trust, you understand? I’m sure you’d never run away with something that doesn’t belong to you, no matter how valuable it might be.”
“Oh. Sure I wouldn’t...”
“I love you, you know? Every day more and more. Too much.”
“There’s never too much love.”
17. East
When Théodore Dubois accepted the fake painting believing it was the original, François’ distress was over. It might well be that someday one of the two holders would make their ownership public, yet chances were slim given the unlawful source of the money. The Belgian decided he would release all the pressure buildup as he arrived in Asia with Lina for a concert tour. My soul feels like a twin of these people. As a child I would want to be an Asian so badly…! Sure, from the very day my mother took me to the movies to see The Last Emperor! I walked out in fascination. Oh, mom... How much I miss the great mutual understanding we used to have! I don’t dare to call you anymore, after borrowing the money from your bank account to decently settle in Spain. Once I saw you key in your password, it just got stuck in my mind. I got my good memory from you. If I had happened to have another mother, she’d most likely have given me the money, yet you... Sometimes I think you don’t love me enough. That makes François sad.
He felt a sharp stabbing pain on his chest as he recalled the lead in the movie. How striking Pu Yi’s story was – separated from his mother to become the ruler of a declining empire!
Upon his visit to the Forbidden City, he became seized by unaccountable discouragement. Pu Yi’s decline made him fear for his own future.
The Belgian checked the time to see if he would be able to stop by the hotel and change clothes. Ugh, it’s so late! I hope I’ll get to the concert in time. Do minutes run faster in these latitudes or what?
Lina had been feeling limp since her arrival in China. What with the jet lag and time there feeling like elapsing much more slowly, her days seemed to have become endless.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel terribly upset. I wish I could just focus on the concerts... François is heavily obsessed with Chinese investors and drags me all the time to coax them. I hope he won’t get in trouble. Of course, the figures he handles are overstated, and I’ve overheard him offer a canvas he had previously agreed to sell to another client. I don’t want to say too much – I wouldn’t like to be seen as a nanny who is deranged by the lack of discipline of an unruly kid. He never handles my stuff. As soon as we get back home, I’ll let him know that he’s no longer my manager. The concert is about to begin, and he didn’t show up yet. I’d rather he didn’t come. It drives me mad to see him dozing off in the front row. Well, looking on the bright side… – I used to get sick when he wouldn’t show up, yet now that’s a relief to me somehow. One way or another, I managed to make some progress. Will I eventually fall out of love with him? Hopefully I will.
That afternoon, the audience gave in once again to the mastery of Lina Maldonado. She had to perform three encores.
When she left the stage, the cultural representative asked after her manager.
“He got the flu – he’s in bed now. You may just tell me what you need to.”
François is utterly shameless.
She dined in her hotel room surrounded by the many bouquets that her admirers had sent in. She left her dinner virtually untouched for fear of suffering a crisis and vomiting everything up. On her cell phone, there was neither a message nor a call from François. For the first time, she did not have a tragic feeling. What’s more – if right now I was told he died, I still would feel sad, yet freed. The thought of such a heartless situation overwhelmed her. I’m becoming a monster. Nothing can justify my wishing bad things on him for me lacking the courage to break up – on top of unjustifiable, this is not true. This is my exhaustion speaking. If something happened to him, I would go crazy – really crazy.
She took three
sleeping pills to ensure restful sleep. I don’t want to be waiting up for him.
At five o’clock in the morning, François arrived – he was drunk, shivery, and having a fit of contrition. Kneeling by the edge of the bed, he started to apologize, yet talking to himself – Lina was thoroughly visiting the land of Nod. The repentant took her silence as a sign of her anger. That made him feel greatly uneasy. In no way it was advisable to go to bed remorsefully. He needed to clear his conscience before going to sleep. The Belgian shook Lina vigorously to get her attention. She had to listen to the reasons why it had been impossible for him to arrive at the concert hall. He wanted to go. This was sworn several times. Of course he did want to! His taxi had indeed been on its way there! Yet, an appealing art gallery had gotten in the way and forced him to stay for a minute and... blah, blah, blah to everyone. Then, everybody had ended up at Mao’s Live House, where live Chinese heavy metal used to be played.
“Do you think I had any interest in going, at all? I was freezing! I’m not lying to you. Look – I was in my shirtsleeves!”
He hugged Lina from behind.
“Can you please forgive me? Tomorrow I’m focusing on you. François will devote his entire day to you.”
Lina, seeing the state he was in, agreed to everything. On the other hand, François, deeply touched by Lina’s token of praiseworthy mildness, filled her with his kisses. Indeed, a man’s greatest fortune was that of being loved by a kind woman!
“You make me feel like an emperor indulging in every craving. Thank you. Thank you, my dear.”
He named her Fran-Chi’s Empress Consort. An outburst propelled him into bed.
“Hup!” the transiently intoxicated man said, as he stood up on the mattress.
When he got his balance back, he started jumping.
“Yī, èr, liăng, sān, sì, wŭ…”15 he shouted as he counted his leaps.
Lina feared that they would be expelled from the hotel. Her prayers did not help. In a fine gesture of alcoholic royalty, François made it clear that nobody, not even the most reputed doctors at court, knew the formula to soothe the monarch’s euphoria. Trying to stop him, Lina was stamped on frantically.
“Drop it – you just hurt me!”
“You were standing in the way of the royal feet of His Imperial Highness. You should be thankful I didn’t command to get your head cut off.”
“Please calm down – you’re going to wake everyone up.”
François dropped beside her with exhaustion. A murky suspicion was slowly taking over himself. This is weird – by now, she should be questioning me to find out if I’ve been with another woman. This Spanish lady loves to be constantly exaggerating and dramatizing. If she’s not interested in bringing it up, that can only mean that some cheeky man has treated her the same way I do. We both just have a weakness for Asians…!
“Hey you! Turn around! Look into my eyes. Have you been cheating on me? I deserve to know who else is entering your cave. I have the right of usufruct for this vagina!”
“Go to hell, François! Shut up! Now listen to me – this is the last time you will be traveling with me! From now on, you are no longer my manager. Also, for the remainder of the tour, we will be sleeping in separate rooms.”
Lina headed for the couch, carrying the comforter and talking to herself.
What cave or vagina are you talking about? You never happen to get in there! What is he saying?
François felt as though he was in the scene of The Last Emperor in which Pu Yi was stripped of the throne. He was seized by a bitter sense of defeat. He was afraid he would face the same fate as Pu Yi’s. What if Lina decided to abandon him and, therefore, he fell out of favor? That would be terrible. An irrepressible retching prevented him from reacting in a timely manner. He had to lean his head out of a corner to avoid throwing up in bed. An untimely coughing fit joined in to worsen the per-se unpleasant situation.
Lina’s indifference struck him as though an ice dagger was piercing his chest. She’s such a… bad... Bad woman... I almost suffocated, yet she stayed there calm, not trying to help me. How does she dare to say she loves me?
“I’m sick, you know? Oh, you don’t believe me? Come here, you’ll see...”
Endzela would never behave like that. She will always take care of me, even when she’s mad at me – she’s a good girl and she truly loves me.
When he closed his eyes, his body became feeling surrounded by the comforting motherly arms of the Georgian. I didn’t think too much of her these days. Tomorrow, I’ll stop by the Wangfujing bookstore16 and buy her some books. Also, I’d like to get her some jewelry, yet I really wouldn’t enjoy declaring that at customs in Lina’s sight.
He spent the night coughing. In the morning, his forehead was burning. He tried to speak louder so the pianist would hear him from the shower.
“Lina, please... Help me. I’m sick. The curse has turned out to be real. I think my time has come. Don’t abandon me at the end. I’m afraid of dying alone.”
“Your sickness is called hangover.”
“No. Believe me. I have a high temperature – come and see.”
The doctor diagnosed him with a common cold. François gestured in disbelief.
“What if I have the bird flu, doctor? I feel terrible,” he said, scared.
The man shook his head slightly as he was filling out the prescriptions.
“It is just a common cold.”
What if the only thing he can say in English is «common cold»?
Fortunately, after two full days of rest, he was able to leave the bed and depart for Shanghai.
For the remainder of the tour, Lina barely spoke to him. The nights in Thailand and the Philippines completely abducted the recovered Adonis. After waiting for their return to confirm their breakup, the pianist brought their relationship to a close.
They returned to their bittersweet home on a Wednesday night. On Thursday, they spent the entire day sleeping in separate rooms.
On Friday morning, Lina was reading in the library when he entered looking serious.
“I’m going to town. I have things to do. Let me know if you still want to dismiss me as your manager.”
“Dismiss? You should rather resign out of shame.”
“Great – yet don’t you ever ask me again to attend one of your concerts or go anywhere with you. Our relationship is definitely going to change.”
“What relationship? I actually wanted to talk about that, too”
“I understand, Miss Spanish lady, yet not now – I’m in a hurry,” he said, trying to buy time.
At one o’clock in the morning, Lina could not help herself anymore and looked out from the window. The road was completely dark. François’ convertible appeared to be nowhere. The woeful woman went to the study and sat at the piano, in search of some means of distraction. She chose the Piano Concerto No. 1 by Béla Bartók, one of her favorite composers. The composition required much energy and decisiveness, so it was perfect for someone trying to get it off their chest.
After playing intensely for over an hour, the pianist looked at the time. It’s almost three o’clock. François is not coming. He’s probably living it up. How can’t he be concerned since we’re about to split up? As for myself, my heartbeats are striking my chest hard. Why am I so stupid? Why do I suffer for someone who doesn’t care about me? I was totally determined to put an end to our relationship... I hope he didn’t fall asleep behind the wheel. He can’t have recovered from the exhaustion of the trip so fast.
She picked up the phone without thinking and held it between her hands, resting her finger on the call key. A sudden fit of good sense prevented her from going any further. Did I just go crazy? Why on earth am I hesitating again? I was going to break up with him... I need to!
The phone rang. It was Belén, from the United States. Lina had texted her to ask her to ca
ll as soon as she could, no matter what time it was.
“I just read your text. I hope I didn’t wake you up. Is everything okay?”
The pianist informed her friend of the situation she had with François. Belén stood up on the couch with a start. It can’t be true! I hope it’ll be for good. Please, come on, Lina – you’ve been through a lot in your life – won’t you manage to scare away a little horsefly?
When they said goodbye to each other, Belén made her the promise that she would call back as soon as François left the house.
François arrived three days later. He was coming from the burial of Lord Nottingham, the husband of Mercedes de Arellanos, the art collector and one of his best clients.
The pianist came to receive him with a carefully-chosen pose.
“Let’s have a seat. I need to talk to you.”
The last thing she was expecting is what came next. Everything happened too fast. He began to whine and hit his head against the wall. Lina hesitated at first. What if he was pretending just to avoid being kicked out? No, that frothy mouth and those tremors were just too real. She ran to help him and called to request medical assistance.
The doctor injected him with a strong painkiller.
“He will be sleeping for many hours. When he wakes up, give him these pills. He needs to keep calm and rest for a few days. Try to keep him from anything he may find unsettling. Anyway, I’ll be here tomorrow to check on his progress.”
18. Belén and Sergio
Despite the cold air in Boston, Belén kept up her jogging. Going for a run around Jamaica Pond as soon as she would get up was part of the strict anti-breakup routine the physician had imposed on herself. That morning, she had had a hell of a struggle to leave her lover’s bed. I have a chaotic schedule... – appointments and everything. I wish Lina was here with me so she could let her hair down for a while…