That day
By Adrián Herrera Arcila
“Love is the beginning of the tragedy that is life. You can only lose something you love. You can only hate something that is taking away what you love from you. And still, we humans can not help but love. We can not choose not to be a character of this tragedy. And when there is nothing else to lose, there are no consequences, only possibilities. This is the volatility of life.” The Creator
The sun oversaw the day from the clear sky, distant, announcing the advent of noon. It was the first Sunday of August. Only the south-bound breeze could argue with the intense heat.
The single carriageway was scarcely populated. A few passenger cars looking for something to do, and the occasional large goods vehicle pumping blood into the heart of the nearby city. A sparse forest of yew trees ran along the side, accompanying the otherwise solitary road.
Adam hated those big boisterous trucks. He was fond of his now 20-year old Peugeout 405. It was a sober car, nothing to show off, but it had been a very good companion to the family.
In all that time, only a couple of tyre punctures when visiting his inlaws in the countryside, and the cliched broken air conditioner. The effect of the latter was accentuated in the summer given the black color of the car.
In this day, the sobriety and color of the car were most appropriate. The four of them were going to a funeral.
Adam kept the steering wheel still, looking towards the road, detached. His wife, Alba, sitted next to him, slightly annoyed. Their two daughters were sitting in the back of the car.
Aura, in her twenties, lied her head in the seat with her eyes closed. She tried to stay oblivious to the situation, letting her hand dance with the breeze through the open window. Stella, still in her teens, smiled at the beauty of the day through the window.
“I have already told you Adam, he is not only my friend, but a very good friend of the family. Don’t you remember when he helped you publish those oil paintings?”, claimed Alba. “I know it was your day to go fishing with the girls, but this is the least we can do for his family, don’t you think?”, she continued.
Adam remained silent, looking forwards. He did not agree, but he knew this small act was important to her.
Alba sighed. “Let me know when you want to speak to me again…”, she said, and then turned back to her youngest daughter.
“Stella, do you remember that movie we saw, the one where the protagonist suddenly loses consciousness, transforms into a superhero, and when he regains them he realizes he has saved someone?”, asked Alba. Stella nodded. “Well, your father is the opposite, he suddenly loses his voice and becomes grumpy, and when he regains it, he realizes he has really annoyed someone, usually me”, said Alba. Both her and Stella laughed under their breath.
Adam loved their laugh. He could not help but let out a clandestine smile. At the same time, a car coming in the opposite direction crossed into their lane, from behind one of those hateful trucks.
The overtaking was reckless. Adam tried to exit the road before the collision, but did not have time. The laughs of Alba and Stella, the breeze caressing Aura’s hand, that was the last memory he had of that day.
The tension in his arm pulled Adam back from his recollection. For a moment, he was no longer a piece of flesh attached to a cigarette. His mind raced to understand the reason for that sensation. When he finally comprehended, he let out an overt smile.
He soon contended with the pain he was now able to inflict. A look at the photos of Alba and Aura made him realize the misery that would ensue.
He noticed the presence in the room. His reliable virtues, they were staring at him, not judging, but letting him know that they were there for him. But she was also there, young and beautiful, reflecting the sensation he just experienced.
His instability and the charm of her deceptive, innocent look were sufficient for him to decide. The figures vanished. He looked at the handgun he had bought to fight a mixture of the latent violence in his neighbourhood and his loyal paranoia. He took it along with his coat, and exited the studio into the menacing night.
The faces he feared, dressed in darkness, did not dare to look at him. It was a peaceful walk to the public hospital. As always, he went in and turned towards the intensive care unit.
Room 33-E, he always had to remember that dreadful number. He entered, quietly. Two nurses were carefully adjusting the catheter. A third one was massaging the patient’s left calf.
He waited silently until the nurses finished, then he stood up and approached her. It was always hard for him to perceive her face without a smile. Stella had always been a cheerful, gentle girl. “Happy nineteenth birthday, my star”, said Adam, taking her hand.
That room, her soft skin, the sound of the heart rate monitor… He was captured by the same terrible memories that always emerged.
Adam opened his eyes, painfully. The light was dim inside the room. He noticed he could only feel the beating of his heart and his brain, combining in a desynchronized rhythm. There were noises coming from outside the room.
Was this a dream? The answer was given to him immediately by the presence of a nurse, apparently cleaning his upper body. “Adam… can you hear me?”, the nurse asked. “Adam?”, he repeated. The dissonance transformed into distinguishable voices as he recovered his hearing.
Outside the room, an adult man sobbed in harmony with a little girl. A woman was shouting in tears, apparently at him.
“Oh Dillon, my dear, what have you done?”, asked the woman. “My brother could have taken us home from the christening. You knew it was reckless to drive after having those cocktails!”, she shouted. “Look at that man… look at him, you fool!”, she said. Dillon complied. “Now look at your daughter… look at my daughter… how many lives have you destroyed today?”, she said, as her voice broke into a silent cry.
The nurse approached the commotion. “The patient is now awake, I urge you to please remain silent or leave this space”, he requested. On hearing this, Dillon paused his sob, and quickly ran towards Adam, before the personnel could take him away.
He looked into Adam’s eyes, carefully considering his words. “I have taken from you everything you love. I will not pretend that my words mean anything to you”, he said, with honesty. Dillon put a piece of paper in a table next to Adam’s bed. “I can only offer my entire life to you. If you ever need anything, visit me or call me”, he said, as the personnel removed him from the room.
Adam took the piece of paper out of his pocket, still holding Stella’s hand. He looked at it, then he looked at Stella. “I will be with you again soon, my princess”, he said. He was exiting the hospital a few minutes later.
He took an evening train that stopped at the suburb where Dillon resided. It wasn’t too late, but the darkness of winter blocked any glimpse of trust between the passengers in his compartment.
After almost half an hour of tension, the train arrived at the suburb.
He could sense the high-class neighborhoods solely by the arrangement of streetlights and houses. Adam remembered he had sometime dreamed about living in one of this houses with Alba and the girls, as well as with the customary Golden Retriever.
Dillon’s neighborhood was not far from the station. It was dinner time and the majority of houses were still lit up. The curtains leading to the dining rooms were mostly semi-transparent. It was clear to Adam that these people did that deliberately to show off their property.
The house of Dillon was no different in that regard. However, it was especially boisterous, for Adam, hideously boisterous.
The hate was aggravated when he looked through the diner window. Dillon was seemingly telling a story, while his wife embraced their two teenage girls, the three of them laughing. The painful memories of Alba and Stella came back to Adam.
He took a deep breath, and approached the door. He knocked; the noise receded, and a few seconds later the door opened.
It was Dillon. “Excuse me sir, may I help you?”, Dillon asked. The giggle from the girls could be heard behind him. The darkness hid Adam’s facial traits, enough so that Dillon could not recognise him.
Adam stepped forward, into the light, revealing his face. The expression on Dillon’s face was not of shock, but of seriousness. He had been waiting for this moment since that day.
“Adam… it has been a long time… would you like to join us for dinner?”, Dillon asked, with a soft voice. Adam expected him to know his name, and also expected that offering. He accepted solemnly, and they both entered.
The silence during the dinner could only be broken by the rattling of the cutlery. There were two attempts, one from Dillon and another from his wife, to express their apologies, but Adam rejected them with a slight movement of his hand.
They were all waiting for the chocolate brownies to heat up. The girls had made the brownies quite dense, so they were taking a while.
The tension was palpable, too much for Dillon to handle. He looked at his wife, and then to Adam, who was staring at the table. His wife nodded to him. Dillon took Adam’s hand. It was not a slow move, in fact almost reckless. He looked at Adam, who had not stopped staring at the table. “Adam… how are you holding up?”, he said.
Adam looked at Dillon’s hand, for a few seconds. Then, he looked up, slowly. “Dillon… I clearly remember your words five years ago… you offered me your life”, Adam said. The woman looked at Dillon, confused.
He continued. “But you see Dillon, your life is not what I want. In fact, I do not hold any personal grudge against you or your family”. Adam moved his hand from below Dillon’s and positioned it on top, caressing its back.
Adam took a breath. “But what would someone think when seeing you and your family enjoy life after what you did? Would they take life seriously? This was not unavoidable, Dillon. You made a mistake. And this is about creating the due consequences”, Adam said.
He took the handgun out of his coat. First, he shot Dillon in his shoulder, immobilizing him. Then, one by one, he shot his wife, and both of his daughters in the head. Dillon screamed in horror, as he saw the eyes of his family members lose their light.
Agitated, Adam looked at Dillon, who could only wail. “I hope you, above others, understand that justice is fundamental for a society to be taken seriously. Now, it is your turn to put yourself in the scale”, he said.
Adam put the handgun to his own head. At the same time, Marceline embraced Albert, holding the stiletto. He closed his eyes, and shot. The sound of an empty magazine. The loss of consciousness.
Back in the isolated grove, the child looked at his mother in awe. The shadow, sitting in the wooden throne, caressed his chest with both hands, letting out a moan.
It was a beautiful summer day for a national holiday. The streets were brimming with people, they almost could not contain the amount of liveliness that wanted to be expressed.
The woman leaned against the white wall. She was talking on the phone. “I know baby, I also want to see you. We should go to the clothing stalls as soon as I finish my shift”, she said.
She listened in silence for a few seconds. “What? A new car? Oh my god, I can’t wait for you to pick me up. I love you baby, I will see you at three”, she said. She sent a kiss and hung up the phone.
She then entered the room, Room 33-E. “Hello, princess”, she said to Stella. She went on to check the catheter, still smiling at her.
When she finished, she moved the curtains that led to the adjacent bed. A man lied with a peaceful expression. As she was checking the catheter, she caught a short-distance glimpse of the man’s face, and saw a tear stuck in his right eye.
She contemplated him with sympathy, as she wiped his tear. Then, she turned back and exited the room, leaving the curtains between the beds open.