The girl saw their exchange, and I thought I caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. She turned her head and started to kiss Teo in an ostentatious way. It was obvious she wanted to make Jony jealous. I watched them disappear. I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the girl. Forget about getting Jony back, little groupie. He’s through with you.
It was a while before the other groupies decided to leave. Alin came to us and slipped an arm across my shoulders and kissed my forehead affectionately, and I pressed myself closer to him.
We talked about the concert at first, then Ema brought up the villa, telling them I have the key for the week. Everyone seemed curious to see it. Somehow, I ended up inviting them, and though it didn’t feel right, it was too late to change my mind. We told everyone around we were having a party.
Of course, they were blown away by the villa. Vladi start to look around, curious. Geta approached me and said, “I didn’t know you lived here.”
I proudly exclaimed, “Welcome to Ceausescu’s villa!”
The surprise was huge. Jony whistled and asked: “Mona, who are you? Are you Ceausescu’s darling?”
We settled into a parlor and drinks were served. At first things were pretty settled, but as the drinks began to take their toll, some of the guests got a little rowdier.
A couple of girls I never seen before began dancing, trying to get Jony to dance. Jony refused them while he was mixing some drinks. “Tough guys never dance, babe!” The two girls looked at each other and started to giggle. Then, they took the bottle of vodka from Jony’s hands and start to dance, touching each other.
I brought Alin into my bedroom. He looked around and then he sat down at the office chair and started to play with a pen. He didn’t seem comfortable with the place. My clothes and my things were scattered across the room. He still didn’t say anything. I felt ashamed. I didn’t know what to say. I felt weird and, for some reason, distant from him. I didn’t like the feeling. Maybe it was only in my mind. I was standing in front of him, in a place that was telling him who I was. I was Ceausescu’s darling, in a way. I realized it hadn’t been a good idea to bring him here. I had to do something.
I am losing him, I told myself. I ran to him and hugged him.
He didn’t resist, but he felt cold.
“Ok. I’m in,” I said in a hurry.
He didn’t understand. I smiled at him and said, “I’ll move in with you. I will tell Alexandru it’s over. I’m all in!”
I regretted what I’d said, but I knew it was too late. I knew this was the only chance to repair the moment. To keep him.
He kissed me, brutally. He was back. He was mine again!
CHAPTER 14
WHY THE BEACH
A lot of activity ensued at the villa and escalated rapidly. Ema went to pick up George T. and came back with Teo and his new girl. Another group arrived right behind them. This group looked dirty to me and seemed too old to be students. They immediately started to look for food and they soon began emptying the contents of the big fridge and spreading it around the huge table. Teo was joining them. The music was loud, and smoke was floating promiscuously in the air.
I looked for Jony but didn’t see him or the two girls he’d been talking to. Momentary curiosity made me think about going to find them, but then I thought better of it.
After eating, the dirty guys took their guitars and started to sing, and the band joined them. Alin asked me if I wanted to try weed. I never had and didn’t really want to. I never liked losing control and that’s just what most drugs do to you.
“I never needed drugs, guys. Everything I loved destroyed me enough,” I said loudly.
Alin tried to convince me. “You need to learn to let go, Mona. You need to relax.”
I was angry. I’d told him I would move with him. After a little more urging from Alin, I decided to try a joint. As I expected, my throat and my lungs hated it. I was coughing, with tears in my eyes.
“Cookies! We’ll make cookies!” one of the dirty guys started to yell while looking into the pantry.
The girls joined in the idea.Several of them followed the dirty guys to scout for the pantry.
“Where do you have your cellar?” one of them asked me. “We need to look for sugar.”
I didn’t know if we had a cellar. I didn’t want to mess up Maria’s kitchen.
“I am sure this house has seen worse. Mona, relax,” Alin said calmly.
I agreed. On the other side of the room, George T., Ema, and a couple of guys I didn’t know were talking. George T. was enjoying the attention he got.
“This is a myth. You’re both wrong. He sold more than one painting. The number is uncertain. His uncle wanted to help him and ordered nineteen paintings, cityscapes of Hague. His uncle was dealing with art. Van Gogh sold his first painting to a Parisian art dealer, and his brother was able to sell another one to an art gallery. He also used to exchange his paintings with other artists for food, other paintings and art supplies,” George T. explained arrogantly.
“What about the fact he cut his ear? Is it also a myth?” one of guys asked while releasing a circle of smoke from his mouth.
George T. was not about to let the punk gain an edge in the argument “In fact, he cut only a part of his ear. He was a madman. He drank too much absinthe, and that made him crazy. But this is not the whole truth behind his madness.”
“The sun!” I interrupted.
He looked at me and smiled. “Indeed! When he lived in southern France and painted the famous Sunflowers, the sun was too strong. He would take his materials and paint in the sun for hours, without a hat. The peasants, who were working the land, would tell him to wear a hat. Gauguin, who was staying with him and sharing the atelier, would advise him as well. But he refused to do that, saying that he needed to feel the sun burn his head, and in that way he would be able to transfer the heat of the sun into his paintings. Of course, he got overexposed and had sunstrokes. And that, combined with the absinthe and with the madness every artist has in them that could make anyone crazy.”
George T. only paused long enough to take a sip of his drink then continued:
“Even the story behind the physical act of cutting his ear is controversial. Some say he was simply crazy. In one of his biographies, it’s written that he used to visit a prostitute, and the girl would always tell him, teasing him, that she would eat his ear. It may be possible, when he had a stroke or a seizure that he had that in his mind, and he cut a piece and brought it to the girl. There is, as well, an interesting theory that the night he had a fight with Gauguin, and they fought, Gauguin cut a piece of his ear by mistake.”
Ema was listening to him with rapt attention, seeming to hang onto every word coming from her lover’s mouth. Everything George T. was saying I knew already. Apparently he and I had read the same book about famous artists. I suddenly wondered if Ema ever bothered reading anything, or if she talks with George T. when they are alone.
After a time, the cookies were ready. They looked good, but the smell and taste of the weed in them was strong. I wanted to try them but had to force myself to eat them at first, and then ended up eating two before deciding to stop myself.
Alin took my hand.We found a quieter place on a couch, and we started to kiss. It could have been minutes; it could have been hours.
After a while, I opened my eyes. My stomach started to heave inside me, so I ran to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before emptying out the contents of my insides – several times. Finally, when I was fairly certain my belly was pretty much empty of the irritating contents, I wiped my lips off and washed my mouth out with cool water as best I could. My refection looked deathly pale. No more weed for me – ever, I thought while walking shakily back to the party.
Alin was grinning at me amused. “Maybe you’re right. It’s not for you,” he concluded. “You may be allergic to that.”
“What about you? Not your first time, is it?” I asked falling onto the smallish couch besid
e him.
“I sing in a rock band, Mona. I used to do that. A lot. Not anymore. I only feel hunger if I do.” I wondered why he urged me so hard to try them in the first place.
After a while, I began to feel a little better. At least, I stopped shaking. We went walking outside and found a gazebo. We sat down on a wooden bench built into the frame of one side.
I leaned my back against him, nestling into the firm muscles of his chest and abs. “Damn, I really wanted to lose control. For once. And to lose my demons,” I told him.
He kissed my head and tried to comfort me. “You worry too much. And we all have our demons. That doesn’t make us bad.”
“You haven’t met mine,” I said, shaking my head.
“Then let me in.” He touched my hair delicately with a one hand.
I tried to avoid his look. “You don’t know anything about me. I am a fraud.”
“I know you. From the moment I saw you. I knew I wanted to be with you. I was frustrated with my song. I had the melody in my mind. It was haunting me.” He softly kissed my hands. “You know how much I hate those nights? Traveling on that stinky train. When I saw you, all I wanted was for the ride to never end.”
“I felt the same. I could have traveled forever with you on that train,” I said with a melancholy tone that matched my mood.
“Have you ever had a day you were really happy, Mona?” he asked. “No demons, no other thoughts, no emotional baggage?”
My eyes studied the ceiling of the gazebo for a few moments as I thought about it. “When I first saw the sea. I was five, six years old. It was perfect. My mother managed to save some money, and she told us we would go to the sea. I didn’t know what the sea was. Strange concept. I knew the sea was some kind of water. She bought me a nice bathing suit. It had small sea horses. Pink and orange. I was so cute.”
He kissed my hand. “I bet you were.”
I rubbed his cheek with one hand. I loved his three days-beard. “We took the train. I loved train rides at the time. I remember the train station where we arrived. She bought us hot, sweet pretzels.” I was smiling at the memory.
“Yes, they are the best,” he agreed. “So what happened?”
I breathed in deeply, “Nothing special. We took the bus, which was crowded. But, it felt different. Happy, not miserable people. It was like happiness was in the air.” For a brief moment, I was feeling very comfortable, secure, and safe. That was unusual, and I realized, dangerous. Normally, I didn’t feel comfortable letting my guard down.
“Poetry was in the air,” Alin said. “You were the little girl who was about to have an extraordinary, amazing experience, while for others it was routine. Or simply entertainment.”
“Exactly. We left the bus and started to walk. I remember my mother talking. We were talking and walking. All I knew is that I was going to see the sea, at the beach. And suddenly, there it was! In all its splendor. I was expecting something like a bigger bath tub. One step, I was walking on the curb, and the next step, the sea was revealing itself in front of me. The curb was high up. You had to go down to reach the beach. There were hundreds of steps.”
“You’re talking about Modern Beach? In Constanta?” Alin asked.
“Yes,” I said happily. “I looked down, and the sea was breathtaking. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. I was overwhelmed. The water was clear, with different tones of turquoise and blue. The sun was glazing over the waves and lighting the whole sea. And the sea was infinite. I’d never felt so much happiness in my life. Simply discovering its amazing beauty.”
“And you told me you’re not a good observer,” Alin said proudly.
“Maybe I was, and I lost it over the years,” I agreed.
“So what did you do?”
“I felt somehow I had to stretch that moment. I knew it was a magic moment.”
“You were only six? And you knew that?”
“All I wanted was to stay there and contemplate the sea. My mother told me to move, to go down. Along the stairs, people would sell beach souvenirs. Jewelry boxes and key chains made of seashells. It was a different world. All the colors. All the exotic things. I could have stayed there forever and watched the crowd. Happy faces. I was only used to dreary, sorrowful people. The smell of the sea was strong. I remember sniffing through my nose, trying to inhale it. It was like I’d never breathed before. And then, we reached the beach. This was when I heard the sound of the waves. The tremendous waves, ready to devour anything in their path.”
“And then?”
“The moment couldn’t be more perfect. I took off my sandals and stepped on the sand. I felt each grain curling around my toes. The sand was flawless; it felt like silk. Warm, fluid silk. I was used to playing with mud and dirt and gravel. The sun was bright as jewels and glazing over the sand. I looked at the sky, and this was how I felt grateful. I knelt and filled my hand with it. It was like a rope of silk running from my hand to the ground. I remember wondering what was made of, why it was so silky.”
Alin was watching me. He stood up and took my head into his hands, and kissed my hair. I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. No need for words. His warm and kind thoughts were softly touching my forehead. His thoughts were floating around me, whispering love. His thoughts were there only for me. I smiled at him, and in a strange way, my smile came out sad. A sudden sadness crushed me. Alin slowly caressed my face.
“Alin, ever since, I’ve chased that moment.” My tears were running over my face. He kissed my wet cheeks. I was sobbing. “You know, Alin, you are my favorite place to go when my mind searches for peace,” I told him.
“Did you read that in one of your books?” he asked. He was right.
“Yes, it’s one of my favorite quotes.” I changed the topic. “Alin, aren’t you afraid of losing yourself?”
“No. I know how it will end.” He hugged me tight. “Mona, the person you love the most will hurt you the most. Part of the game.”
“Alin, the sex on the train. I was mourning. I wasn’t myself.”
“I know.”
I continued. ”It was everything on that day. I took the exam and I knew I’d failed it. I didn’t know what to do with my life. The sex came naturally.”
“I don’t judge it. And the sex was good.”
We both giggled.
He continued. “Sex is only sex. Nothing special. I think it’s overrated. Love is what matters. I can have sex daily. Like Jony. But love… love is rare, Mona. It’s easy to walk away from it. Don’t do that.”
I was wondering why he looked sad. Ema came into my mind. And suddenly, it hit me: he was hurting.
“Alin, what do you really want?”
He looked confused. “From you? I told you… I want you to move in with me…”
“Yes, but why? What is the fight you are fighting, Alin?”
“Mona, you’re overthinking.” For some reason, he didn’t sound convincing. He was hiding something. He was hurt, and he was trying to heal. I knew it was a bad idea to accept to move in with him.
I shook my head in negation.
“Mona, I am getting really tired of this game. Is it about you moving in with me? Why does it have to be so hard with you?” His tone was irritated. I felt sad. I felt tired.
“Baby, are we having a fight?” I tried to kiss him. “I told you. You don’t know me. I am difficult to deal with. I will push your buttons, even the ones you don’t even know you have. I don’t know why I’m doing it… I’m sorry.”
He was silent, looking at the ground.
I tried to change the strategy. “Alin, my demons, we were talking about them. You have them as well. I am too fucked up to deal with yours. I need someone sane and strong to handle me. I need to be the crazy one, and you have to carry me. You need to be my rock. I am asking again: why are you in pain? Cause you are. I feel it. Don’t try to hide it!”
“Mona, you know something? I have enough of your psychological nonsense. Let’s go inside, and forget about it. I
need a drink,” he said, annoyed.
We went inside. I knew I wasn’t going to win. Not that night. I also knew I was right: he was hiding something.
The music had stopped, and from the bathroom I heard the washing machine running. “Who is doing the laundry at this time, at a party?
Alin went to the bar and poured himself a drink. I went over to check the bathroom. One of the dirty guys was sitting on the washing machine, reading a magazine. Naked. He didn’t seem too bothered when I came in.
“What are you doing?” I asked, upset and having Alin in my mind.
“Laundry.” he answered in a plaintive tone. “We live at the beach, in the tent. I haven’t washed my clothes in ages.”
I couldn’t help it; I smiled. “Help yourself. The party is over, so please leave when you are done and take your friends with you, ok? And don’t steal anything. They are watching the party right now, and they will find you and put you in prison for the rest of your life.” I had to tell that to protect the villa. I didn’t want to upset Alexandru.
The party was slowing down. The music was not loud, and the talks switched into silly giggles and drunken comments. Glasses, drink bottles, and food leftovers everywhere.
When I came back into the living room, Teo approached me:
“Mona, do you have a plastic bag?” He noticed my surprised look and added:
“There is so much food left, I could take something for our place.”
I helped him looking for a bag and then I went outside. Jony was hanging out with his two girls.
“Here she is.” Jony seemed too happy to see me. I saw he’d drunk too much. “Girl, we are leaving.”
“Wait for me, guys.” Teo screamed from inside. He approached us in a hurry trying to balance his body under the heavy weight of too plastic bags.
Alin put his glass on the porch and kissed me. He whispered to me, “Did you mean it when you told me you wanted to move in with me?” He saw my hesitation, and he nodded. “Ok, I get it, I will give you time. And space. Whatever you want. Maybe we are rushing it.”
Just a Monumental Summer: Girl on the train Page 11