- Ahh, fuck. I knew you'd notice it.
- Well, actually... Hmm I could say Alice confirmed it to me
- … And that's ok with you?
- Why do you think I brought you this far into the ocean? - Eric smiled
- To drown me?
- Always a possibility dude. Always a possibility.
They laughed.
- No, wait. I just wanted to tell you nothing much happened, dude.
- Oh Alright, save me the details...
- Ha, no, seriously, I told her...you know, I kind say I should talk to you about it. Before anything more serious, right.
- Hmm.
- But I really like her, man... And I really would like to go out with her, for real. I think I'm falling in love with your sister... - He paused for a second, made a funny face and then said - Fuck that sounds weird.
- Wow... And you thought you needed my authorization?
Mike got embarrassed.
- Dude, It's just weird that you're talking about my sister, ok? But it's been like.... maybe four years I didn’t see her, I'm not gonna pretend I'm a protective older brother now, ok? I know you're not a douchebag, I know you wouldn't do it if it didn't mean a lot to you... relax man. Relax and enjoy the few days you're gonna have with her. I just... Well, I'm not gonna say right? What basically happens every time we have to leave...?
- Yeah, I know – He gave Eric a sad grim – Thanks anyways man... What about you and Alice?
- We're cool. I'm definitely gonna miss her. She's really freaking awesome...
- True... but...anyways, what about the redhead?
Eric shrugged his shoulders and just said: The redhead was a mistake.
- Ok...You don't think about her anymore?
- ...
- Right... I'm just trying to help...
- I know, Mike, I know. And speaking about help, seriously, try not to make my sister a problem. We're gonna leave soon, you know that...
They were having an incredible time together: They were all getting along really well and they were all always full of energy to go to the beach, to go to bars, go check some stores, visit around, and eat a lot. Or they would just get extremely lazy around the house or at the beach. Even Eric started to feel full of energy, something that had been a while he didn't know what it meant. He was sleeping quite well, and long enough, in reasonable hours, and getting off the bed didn't seem to be such a torture anymore. Getting a bit of sun everyday actually felt like it was making him some good.
Eric and Alice were also having a nice time as a couple, having a lot of fun together or just chilling and talking themselves to sleep or whenever they'd just get the chance to talk a bit. She was a great listener, and would always know how to make Eric open up a bit more. A bit more, every day,
A couple of days passed like that, people going to the beach early in the day, getting tanned, finding something to do during the day, going back again to the beach by the end of the day, then having all these amazing food, maybe watching a movie, going to a bar or just walking around St Jean or even going to Biarritz.
In both Biarritz and St Jean, Eric and Mike ended up getting stopped by people who'd recognize them, and they would take pictures, or even autographing the t-shirt people were wearing. Once they even paid a round of beers in a bar when a couple of people recognize them, just because.
Fun times.
And just like that, almost ten days had passed since they arrived at St Jean de Luz.
- So, son...Enjoying your vacations, Hun? - His mother.
- Yeah...It's been nice.
- That's good to hear. It's great to have you around, Eric...We really liked that you brought your friends
- Yeah...They're awesome – He smiled at Alice and Mike
- What about you guys, what have you guys been doing? - Isadora was asking the parents.
- Hmm, the same as you guys: going to the beach, walking around, visiting friends that live nearby...
- Oh ok... I'm sure Biarritz is way more glamourous at night than St. Jean, right mom? - Gustavo was mocking her.
- Well, they do have some amazing magazines, I have to say that – She smiled at Gustavo – But truth is we just want to give you guys some space. You know how it goes, we get old and get boring with time – She smiled at Alice.
- But hey, tonight we have that Basque game to go, it's not far from here, Hun? Everyone's going, right?
As to what Gustavo said:
- Or maybe you guys are going to bed? – Gustavo smiled, with his hand messing with his hair so it didn't stay in front of his eyes. - I mean, it could go as late as nine o'clock, that's pretty late for you guys, right?
- No, no. We're going, don't worry Gustavo... Truth is guys, I just would like to talk to you guys about something. We were just wondering what we are doing on the next few days.... Maybe it would be too much to stay here more than two weeks, no?
Eric froze on his seat. His stomach turned: He knew where that was going. In a second, he knew where that was going. He had finally seen his parents.
- Oh, come on guys, its great here – Isadora intervened – And I believe they are really enjoying their vacations here, and so are we...
- I know, I know. I was just wondering if maybe they wouldn't like to come with us and spend like three or four days at our house...
- In Toulouse?
- Do we have another one?
They smiled
- Actually, last time I checked, we still had a house back in Brazil. Did I tell you guys already that Alice lives absurdly close to our house?
- No kidding...
- Yeah, apparently like ten minutes walking. - Alice smiled at Eric's mother.
- Wow, that's what I call a coincidence. So that's what? The second person you meet outside Brazil who's from Floripa?
- Yeah, small world...
But now Eric's dad once again went back to the subject, with the subtlety of a gun.
- But hey, what about the idea of going back to Toulouse? I think it would be nice, guys. Show them your city, your friends. Our new house. We actually have a room for you in our house, Eric, you should check it out. It's pretty nice.
- Hmm... I don't know guys. Maybe we should wait a bit more and see what happens, Hun? See what Eric decides - Isadora
- Yeah, I'll go with Isa on that - Gustavo
Eric didn't say anything. The subject wasn't over. They finished the dinner and went to watch the Basque game. Something had not hit Eric right.
Before leaving to the game, Eric went to the kitchen and got himself another beer.
They went to watch this Basque pelota game and it wasn`t very huge: It seemed to be just a small reunion between some locals who wanted to play that game. It was basically two teams with two players, each team with a nice uniform (one black, one red) in a field that had a tall wall on one of the ends. It was basically some sort of masochist squash: They would throw a ball at the wall, and the other team had to grab it and throw it back before the ball hit the floor a second time. The only thing is, they would play with their bare hands, and the ball was hard and heavy as if it was made out of wood.
There were a bunch of Basques
around, screaming in their dialect to the players, and that was actually pretty fun to hear. You could see how the hands of the players would get huge during the game because of those massive hits on that heavy ball. They seemed not to care at all.
By the time the game really started, some sixty people were watching.
Watching the game, Eric bought a round of beer to everyone (except for Gustavo, who was still underage) and they were having lots and lots of fun.
Once it was over, the black team had won for a tiny difference, but apparently it was a pretty fair competition between those teams and it would always be unpredictable to say who would win each week.
It was a blast.
- Hey, You guys think we could go check out the ball? - Gustavo asked after the game.
- Why not...Lets ask
They got near the players.
- Excuse me
- Yes?
- We were just curious ito know if we could check out one of the balls you used in the game?
- Sure, sure … Where are you guys from?
- We are Brazilians. He's American...
- Ah, I see... here it is
The ball passed through everybody's hands, surprising everyone on how much it weighted.
- Does anyone wants to take a shot? - One of the young Basques maliciously asked, and was immediately criticized by his colleagues, but he didn't care.
- Yeah, why not, I'll take a shot – Mike, after Isadora translated to him what the Basque had said.
- Good luck, Mike
- Allright...Against me its ok for you, American? - The Basque asked Mike, and waited for Isadora's translation.
- Sure - Mike smiled and nodded
The Basque threw the ball once. When Mike caught it the first time, he clearly got surprised with the weight of the ball. The Basque defended and threw it back. Mike was able to defend it too. His opponent hit it back and Mike gave in. It wasn't a complicated game: Imagine it's a tennis ball and try to ignore pain as much as you can...It was exactly a masochist squash.
They went back to the side of the field, where everyone was. Mike was clearly surprised on how much that game could hurt.
- I'm a musician, man. I can't hurt my hand – He smiled, trying to be nice, and Isadora translated his comment to the Basque.
- No problem, no problem... What about you, Brazilian? You want to try?
- Sure – Eric. But he wasn't smiling. He drank a bit more of his beer before going to play.
The Basque started, gently. Eric hit it back. The Basque defended. Eric threw it back. The Basque. Eric. Basque. Eric. The Basque finally hit his first point. Eric didn't give in and kept going. Basque. Eric. Basque. And finally Eric gave all he had in one hit, almost angry, and was able to make it even. He saw people from his past laughing in the crowd. Samuel, Lucas, Isabella. The young kids he never knew the name, and whose blood got stuck on his hands years ago. They were all there, cheering against him. Laughing, asking him how silly he was for having ever believed his parents could've changed, asking him how Marie was doing, saying obscenities about Marie, about Alice, about Isadora. Spilling poison through their words.
Completely hallucination, but they were there, and that's what matters.
The Basque and Eric lost their smiles after Eric got a point. They both started to go faster and stronger. The Basque wouldn't allow Eric to win, not in front of everyone. And Eric just didn't care. He had to show them. He stood his ground and kept going, but soon enough he started to get beaten up, in the score and on his hand. Finally, one of the old Basques said the game was over and they just stopped. The Basque had a smirk on his face for crushing Eric, and Eric felt like punching him in the face, right there. They went closer to the crowd, and kept talking. Everyone – including the Basques – was smiling, being super nice to each other, trying to ignore the awkward situation that had just happened. Eric's hand was in his pocket and he wasn't showing anything at all on his feature.
On their way home, Alice was preoccupied about Eric's hand and basically ordered him to show it to her. Everyone got shocked when he finally did. His hand was huge, a bit purple and was shaking uncontrollably. He kept drinking/chugging his beer.
Eric tried not to get angry at their reactions but he ended up almost screaming “Stop the drama. I said I'm ok” and that clearly shocked everyone. Nobody said a word for the rest of the way back. They got home and everything seemed reasonably fine: They almost right away went to bed. But not Eric. He wouldn't be able to sleep because of what had happened before. Not the game itself, but the anger he felt. The anger he was feeling. Seeing those ghosts in the crowd. Why are they still there? Why? He felt like punching the wall. Why can't they leave him alone?
Alice was caressing his hair and trying to talk to him, but she ended up falling asleep, probably tired of the awkward silence of that night. He was actually bothered by her presence. Alice, at that point, already knew their names, but she didn't knew the whole story: Eric was in pain, with so much anger and so much fear and so much pride that he felt he could die. “Maybe she'll understand. Maybe she can help you. Just tell her you need to go for a walk.”
But there was other voices and other fears in his head too, that kept torturing him for long minutes.
At some point, not long after Alice had fallen sleep, Eric went to the kitchen and grabbed a bucket, filled it with ice and just shoved his hand inside of it, without thinking twice. He felt something cracking inside his brain when he did that. He had to hold the pain without making any noise, but as soon as things seemed to get better, his head started to hurt. A lot. He went to get some alcohol they had in the kitchen and started chugging it to help with the pain “You need help, Eric. Come on, let's go back to the room and tell Alice everything. You don't need alcohol, man”. That was it. He had made his choice. He was on his way to their room, with a headache that felt like it was going to blind him. But it would all be alright. Alice would help him.
In that moment his father appeared in the kitchen.
They starred at each other for a second. His dad seemed tired, worried and in desperate need of saying something. He just tried to make some conversation.
- Hey, son. Let me see it... How bad is it hurting? - Mentioning his hand on the weird bucket filled with ice.
- Its great... I'm ok, I'm going to bed...
His dad didn't buy it.
- Let me see it – He repeated it, and as Eric showed it – Oh son, that's not good.... It will look pretty bad for a while.
- It's ok. I don't care... I'm going to bed, dad. I need to go to sleep.
- Come on, son. It might interfere with your work... Let me help you...
Eric smiled. He was not convinced one bit.
- You talk like you care...
- Come on, don't be like that... Of course I care. I know how important it is to you...
- It isn't in the end, funny, right? - He had a sinister smile on his face - So what's up dad? What do you want to tell me?
Eric's father starred at him for a second.
- Come on dad... Now it's my turn, hun? I know this face from a long long time, remember? Every time you feel like you have to play your role as a father you put on this face. Not first time... So what’s up? What do you want to tell me this time? Can we keep this short? I really want to go back to my room...
His father knew he was about to go into a serious field. He tried to think really cautiously about what he was going to say.
- … Hey, you fought for what you wanted. I respect that. And you deserve our respect for how far you went on your own. Congratulations – He tried to smile.
Eric laughed, sarcastically.
- You respect it? Oh thanks dad.... Because to actually like my music or have a bit of pride about it is definitely out of the question, right? I mean, not good for business Hun?
His father was trying to not take those aggressions seriously.
- What are you talking about? Of course we are proud of you. Of course, we listened to every single song you ever released. Your siblings adore you. It's just weird to listen to you like that...
- Angry?
- …Distant. Come on Eric, I'm just trying to make some conversation...
Eric looked at his dad for a second, and smiled, sarcastically, shrugging his shoulders.
- Come on, son. We have years to catch up. Can't we just try to be a family again? Can't I just be worried about you? Is that a crime? Give me a one minute break, please... After all those years...
- And what gives you the right? Hun? - Eric
- … Nothing son. I'm not saying I have any right at all. I'm asking you to let us try to be a family again... I know, ok? I know things weren't ideal, and that we... I, I made a lot of mistakes. But that's in the past, Eric. Those things are behind us. A lot of things changed... Things are better now.
- That's bullshit. Those things are my past, my present and my future. I'm glad to hear though, that you guys are just so wonderfully over that. I'm glad I was of any use in building the perfect family, and that you're now so worried about us. Good for you, dad. Good for you … – Eric didn't know where any of that had come from, but he just started to spit things against his father - ... Fuck, are you that hypocrite? How can you wake up every morning and get out of bed? What kind of lies did you convince yourself of, Hun? That you changed? Give me a fucking break. I know you. And I know you will never change. The only reason why you can put yourself in this bubble of numbness where you actually think you've changed is because now I am the fucking provider of this family. Life got easier, so you convinced yourself you're a better man now. That's fucking pathetic...Even for you, that's pathetic...
To the Paris of our dreams Page 12