FUEGOS: Wishful Thinking

Her phone is ringing off the hook. She’s in bed. It’s past midnight. No way in Hell is she going to answer that damn thing.

On those rare occasions, on those evenings when the air is cool and crisp, she can easily slip into slumber. But instead she stays up for a bit; a little past sunset, and watches the twilight’s dual lights cleave together into a portrait of the calm dusk. Then hours later; at midnight or so, she konks out; easy slumber.

### elsewhere ###

Throughout the night sky the moon has risen from the itinerant clouds. She borrows light from her fallen lover and illuminates the night sky with her silver light.

Under her silver light some are already slumbering, other folks gather together at their favorite haunts. Some are going to have a long night.

Peace is still; tranquility spans in silence until it is disturbed; for danger lurks in the darkest of shadows.

When shadows fall, will those who traverse under the moon’s silver light make it back home safely? When shadows fall… will those who make it back home tuck themselves in bed and join those who are slumbering in bliss; will they rub their eyes and awaken to see the next sunrise? Or perhaps they’ll flicker and fade with the last stars; their lives stolen when shadows fall…

…but this phone and its incessant noise, she continues to ignore it. She hasn’t even made a single wink of sleep yet.

Is the caller some sort of phone jockey at the bottom of a telemarketing-pyramid scheme!?? Who is this prick!!?

She’s frustrated beyond the threshold a frustrated maiden can get.

Such as the fabled maiden with her tender skin: skin so delicate she was stirred from slumber by a lump, from the proverbial pea, protruding from beneath a stack of one-hundred mattresses.

The young woman grips the bridge of her nose and pinches it. Frustration whittles her patience like wood for the fireplace.

Then… as a last ditch effort she…tries something…

…she settles down… and not too soon after, the phone stops ringing for a few minutes…a few minutes more and finally, the phone remains silent for ten minutes.

…did… did it work? Did it really work!? The ancient method of refusing a favorable condition instead of the unfavorable condition and by accepting the unfavorable condition, thus reversing karma by invoking the favorable condition and not the unfavorable condition!!?

Regardless, the young woman breathes an easy, gentle sigh and tosses her head back onto her pillow. Her victory, though delayed yes; but at last it’s over and now she can sleep with what’s left of her sanity and in the much coveted comfort of sweet slumber.

But even if it’s reversed, karma always has its way. Karma has the final say and will not bend to the will of a mortal’s reverse psychology.

Ring ring…

Ring ring…

…there it goes again…

…the nightmare resumes.

Damn… she was so close to getting some shuteye.

That damn phone is at it again; God damn it, the phone is ringing again!! Whoever this jackass is, they’re persistent, a frustratingly persistent pissant!!

Whoever is responsible they should know they’ve already made that special spot on ‘the list’. Guess she’ll just have to add a gold star next to this caller’s entry on her list.

She rolls her eyes.

“…fuck it!”

The swear rolls off her tongue like acid from a serpent’s hiss. Against her better judgement and against all things Holy, the young woman rolls over. She snatches the receiver off the base. She’s more than ready to unload unholy hell upon this dastardly bastard…

It doesn’t take long for her to muster an appropriate diction with her ‘colorful’ language to express her violent vexation; all of it! Every last bit of it!

She makes her move…

“Who in the hell is this!!? Do you realize what time it is, you jackass! The very second I find out who you are I’ll strangle you until your eyes roll back!!!”

She hears someone chuckling on the other end.

“Que!? You're laughing!? I couldn't go to sleep because of you. Why don't you bring your sorry ass over here so…”

“…Giselle, you are as feisty as ever. I missed that about you.”

His all too familiar voice leaves her frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

Vexation? No way. Chilly trepidation coils around her spine and spares not a single vertebrae.

“Lazaros!… holy shit, is it really you...

“Lazaros Fuegos!!?”

“…yeah… it’s me Giselle.”

Lazaros sighs, “¡Ay que un diablo chica! I spent more than five dollars’ worth of change to reach you… what were you doing?”

“…Lazaros…”.

Giselle’s responses are high and low wisps of staggering breaths scrambling for concrete words, but she’s that deer still frozen in those headlights.

“Mira, I’m sorry for calling you like this but you are the person closest to me in these parts of Tejas..”

“…”

“Giselle…? “¿Está Bien?”

The deer breaks free… and charges.

“Lazaros… Where in the hell have you been!!?”

Lazaros chuckles. “As I said, feisty as ever, but you deserve an answer I guess.”

Giselle clenches her cell phone; half of her grip is waxing strong the other half is waxing in her sorrow.

On the other end of the line, Lazaro breathes a sigh; melancholy breaths caught in a vice of despondency. What will come from telling the truth now? He'll reel Giselle in slowly.

"You can say I was… finding myself.”

Giselle is stunned. Now she’s even more pissed than she was about that phone.

“Finding yourself!? Go look in the mirror if you want to find yourself Lazaro!! The last I heard about you dropped out of school.

Lazaro rolls his eyes.

“If you want to call it that then I yeah I’ve been crashing from couch to couch… but I was stiil making money all over Tejas and Mexico… from street fighting.”

“What!! Street Fighting!!?”

“Yeah… Chica, mucho dinero. But most importantly I want to take a shot at being a Professional Fighter.”

“Cut the crap Lazaros, you were close to graduating; You only had a semester left. Nobody wanted to see you fail Lazaros nor did they want you to drop out just because you want to be a fighter!!”

“Lazaros, it’s already been three years since you dropped out of school. You’re not a teenager anymore, Chico. You don’t even have a high school diploma. How are you going to make it in life, Lazaro?”

“ Giselle, there are many ways to succeed in life and there is only one road to failure… Once I turned my back to academics, I accepted failure walked on the path to failure once I just upped and left the classroom, continued out of the school building, and I didn’t stop until I was off the campus. I didn’t bother to take a single look back. I just hopped on my motorcycle and took off.”

“Sounds more like running away to me, Lazaros.”

“Giselle, I couldn’t give a dirty rat’s ass about all that academic bull shit. Even if I didn’t drop out; all of that crap is just wishful thinking and the whole high school experience is just a bunch of dead memories.”

“You can’t be serious, Lazaros… do you hear that nonsense you’re spouting? For Christ’s Sake, what was the time you spent with me and our friends!? I mean, we spent late nights into the early morning cramming all of that school work with our friends, going to late nights parties! All of the evenings we shared watching football on Friday Nights; going to Track Meets with the crowd pumping their fists; going wild for the relay events!! All of that and passing midterms and finals!! You’re going to dismiss our memories as wishful thinking!!?”

“…”

“You don’t mean that do you Lazaros”

“…”

“Bastardo! Answer me!!”

“¡Cállate chica! What we and the gang have been through is not wishful thinking. Far from it!”

“… then tell me Lazaro, spill it already. What are those memories to you, Lazaros, just a bunch of bullshit!? Just something to wipe off from your shoe and move on without us?”

“…If you want to know, shut the hell up and listen…”

Lazaros breathes in and exhales.

“My time with you and our friends was an experience worth more than a career as a Pro Fighter can provide me. Those memories are worth more than the time I have left on Earth. Those experiences…Are times worth living through over again.”

A hush suddenly befalls the two.

A lone tear streaks down Giselle’s face: like a shooting star granting someone’s wish.

“And here I am, with this rant in my head. I considered unloading on you. God damn you Lazaros.”

Lazaros can hear faint sniveling from Giselle's end of the line.

As always…He knows what to say.

“…Oye, no te preocupes por eso, Giselle….”

Lazaros’s calming words and deep and smooth accent soothes and calms Giselle.

“Lazaros?”

“Yes Giselle?”

“…so about this professional stuff. I still think it’s not for you. You have brains Chico… but not for you to get them smashed in.

“Giselle, my mind is made up about this and I promise you that they won’t get smashed in.”

“…”

“Giselle..?”

“Where are you now, Lazaros?

“…I’m outside the Texaco near the train tracks running parallel to Mykawa Rd.”

“…Stay put! I’m coming to pick your ass up!”

The call ends.

Lazaros breathes an anxious sigh and hangs the receiver back on the payphone’s hook.

He reaches into his pocket. He still has some change left…

…oddly enough it’s enough for another call.

Lazaros breathes steadily as the conversation he just had with Giselle fades into time. Another mere moment flowing forth into oblivion; another memory to recall like an echo from the past. He looks up at the sky.

All those glowing hues of indigo, purple and blue. They mesh together. Lazaros watches it for a while before finding a spot on the curb to sit upon. And thus he waits for Giselle.

…Memories are ephemeral phenomena. Transient as they are, yet they subsist by linking together one to another. Moments expire, one after another. Memories join together, link by link.

Memories traverse, to and fro the stream of time… forever on that beaten path from the present to the past. Upon the whim of the mind they are summoned. Memories are mere echoes from the past. They are reminders of follies past…

…lest history repeat its ugly truths.