at my watch. Next to her, my world would stop and my heart accelerated. When she looked into your eyes, it made your heart beat fast, very fast.
-I must leave Victor, it is late. I managed to escape a few hours, but I must go back to the restaurant. I am really sorry, because this is so nice…
-Please, allow me to take you -I proposed.
-No, really, don’t worry. I’ll take a taxi. You need to recover from the last jogging session. Your whole body must be hurting -she joked. Then she added:
-Good night Victor, thank you for this wonderful evening.
-Thank you, Jodie… and don’t worry… I’ll take care of the plant.
I got her a taxi. We said goodbye the car’s window. A second later, she vanished as a modern Cinderella. After closing the door from the studio, everything got filled with her absence. The word goodbye leaves a long silence after itself. To all that silence joined the guilt feeling for noticing another woman after Clara. Although I had lived a long time alone, I was not a loner. Those are very different things. Well, at least now I had Meg, the plant I placed in an ideal place in the studio. I picked up the table and finished my glass of wine. The music wasn’t sounding anymore, the candles were out, and over the table cloth reined an infinite silence. That is a scene I know too well…
I was about to go to bed, when the wind made the studio door rumble. Behind it was Sam with a contorted look on his face asking for my help. He had just received a phone call from Mercy Hospital: Lorena has been admitted after suffering a strong car accident near Malibu. Her condition was serious and her companion, the driver, a young man, had died.
We climbed down the stairs as an exhalation. We got into my car and went at full speed toward the hospital. Sam, at my side, behind sobs, he didn’t stop whispering prayers all the way.
Chapter Seven
Ten minutes later we entered the hospital through the emergency door. Lorena had entered the ICU and permission to enter that restricted area was given only to Sam. When Sam finally appeared again, his face showed somber forecast.
-They can’t tell me if she’ll live. They can’t assure it.
When she came in, she was conscious, but she slipped into a coma shortly after. They have her with tubes. She seems to be dying or resuscitating any minute now.
-Lorena is young, she’s strong, and she’ll get out of this one. You’ll see.
-It better be, or they will have to bury us both.
The doctor said she had no fracture, some bruises, but the most worrying thing was the concussion in her head. And worst: evidence of cervical lesions. We spent the night at the hospital, from the waiting room to the coffee machine. Until the first rays of sun came through the window.
At noon, we received news from the doctor, a bunch of confusing references about her vital signs, but what I did understand was that she was out of danger, even though we still had to wait and see her development. Suddenly, all the feelings of self loathing I had harbored for two years seem like cheap baggage compared to the desperation a father feels when he is just about to lose his daughter.
Her companion, a studio musician – twenty five, keyboardist – died instantly. They were work friends. He was driving when the car precipitated on a deep embankment. You are never prepared to accept death, at least not with young people.
Those days were filled with doctor reports, coming and going from Mercy Hospital; who’s recollection, even today, bring back a sour, hypnotic memory, painted in aseptic white.
During the days following my date with Jodie, I kept going back to her comments. Jodie had taken a plane to San Diego. She needed to spend time with the restaurant in that city. I, on my side, needed to reconsider. I felt confused, however in some way all of that had a special sense in that moment.
I had definitely abandoned the comfort zone I called «security». And knew I would never go back to it. I was faced with a new system of beliefs based on a reality that I couldn’t see or touch. I couldn’t go back, no matter my increasing uncertainty. I couldn’t forget what I had learned, and I couldn’t stop wanting to learn more.
When you reach a new paradigm of comprehension, the old one loses meaning, there is no turning back.
Jodie insisted that I painted with more heart and less technique, or I would run the risk of leaving my paintings stripped of emotion. She suggested that I picked the topics of my works following my hunches, without searching for the critics acclaim. She encouraged me to try. «Flow. Even if you are disoriented at the beginning, little by little everything will march better», she said.
My small world had begun to change since my arrival in Santa Monica, my painting too, and myself with all of that.
The phone rang; it was Javier from Barcelona, Spain.
-Victor, how is everything? I hope you are enjoying yourself. I leave tomorrow for Paris; I will close your Studio and leave the keys with your neighbor. Barcelona has been a success. I will tell you later.
And you? Have you finished your paintings?
I wasn’t going to lie, so I came clean.
-Not yet Javier. At the moment I have limited myself to reflection. By the way, I’ve met someone very interesting and I think she is having an influence on me compared to when the spring is taking over a garden.
-And that special someone. Is she female?
-Her name is Jodie.
-¡Finally, Victor! You don’t know how much I like to hear that. Jodie, Jodie, That’s a pretty name! I will never get tired of telling you: you need a woman by your side
So tell me: are you dating?
-Well, I wouldn’t say that. And no sex, if that’s what you are thinking.
-Well, we are facing a serious case! So what are you waiting for? Come on, go, relax, leave your studies for a day, take her to Mexico. Tell her you love her by sunset. It works!
He wasn’t listening
-Javier…
-She’ll love it, for sure!
-Javier, please, stop acting like you are my older brother, will you?
-Tell me at least how is she.
I found a great word to describe her:
-She’s ideal, that’s the troubling part.
-Perfect! Send me an e-mail, come on, and tell me all the details.
- Now that we are talking about it, Javier, can you tell me what the deal is with your recent messages? – I was referring to the e-mails that had arrived in my inbox.
-Recent messages? I don’t know what you mean, Victor. I don’t have time for anything. I have to hang up know, I will call you. When you return from Mexico!
He hung up.
Days
