Happy Halloween

Now I pick my Margaret Laurence novel, ‘The Fire-Dwellers’ from my bookshelf and mean to read it again. I open the old yellowish softcover but cannot concentrate on the words. I close the book and put it back on a pile, along with my Simone de Beauvoir that I’m still reading and a few fitness magazines.

While sitting in fron of my computer, I mean to turn it on, but stop. I find a picture of a strong man on the beach, next to my keyboard. He’s wearing a pair of black speedo and looks confident, with folded arms, and legs spread apart. I think Valter used to be a cop. That’s what he told me the last time we chatted online.

Valter, how I wish you were not just a picture of a virtual friend, but a real lover! I say to the photo.

An unquenchable fire dwells in me as I daydream about him.

Moving towards the window, I open it to get fresh air. I smile as I touch the face of my idol in the picture. He has black military-cut hair, a strong squared jaw, a dent in his chin, and brown eyes. In his chats he says he’s middle-aged, has a medium-sized belly, very hairy, and quite loving. I smile to myself and ponder about his invitation to meet him in person on the coming weekend. For whatever reason I still feel hesitant about it and have promised to him an answer soon. But I’ve been postponing my answer to the limit. Somehow, I still feel insecure about the whole situation.

What if one of us gets hurt or disappointed with the other? I also feel afraid he might not be the person I think he is. I don’t mean in the physical sense, but, being the kind, loving, and generous man who is seeking love. Besides, such a hot guy like him being single and alone, I reason, tells me something is off.

No need to say I’ve already had some real dates with men I met online and, truth be said, most times I got disappointed. Yet, I’ve still had a few good ones. Eduardo, who is now my best friend, met me at a restaurant on our first date. We met online too. Even though we didn’t become lovers, we became great friends. Thanks to the Orkut social media.

My little Bank of Brazil calendar is marked red with a big question mark for the coming weekend. He says he wishes to meet me soon. On Saturday it’s going to be the ‘Day of the Dead,’ or ‘Finados,’ as we call it in Brazil. There’s also going to be this cool event downtown called Zombie Walk, and he said he’d love to go. He comes once in a while to São Paulo to visit his sister and nephews. She lives about 20 minutes away from me by subway. Downtown is also a cool place to hang out. My neighborhood is called Paraíso, and I live in a small apartment overlooking 23 de Maio Avenue, which offers me a fantastic view of the city, especially at night.

Well, I suppose he is implying that in case I say yes, we’d spend Saturday afternoon and Sunday together. Then, in the evening he goes back to his hometown, for he needs to report to prison authorities on Monday morning.

Well, he is still on probation and needs to report himself at the prison every other week. His crime? He told me he got arrested for having punched an officer in the face. Actually, he was also an officer himself at the time of the incident. He punched his buddy and wrecket his sport car.

On that day, on a sunny weekend, he and a few friends were in a rented ranch. They were drunk and firing guns. Some neighbors called the cops. A friend came and tried to cool things down. Valter shot the car, punched his face, and got himself immobilized. Other cops were also called. End of their friendship and his career.

Valter was then sentenced to jail for two years. In his last year, he was put on probation, which allowed him to stay home but away from bars and his cop friend. As he did a lot of voluntary work teachingphysical education, he was allowed trips within the state of Sâo Paulo. In one of his trips he went to the beach with his sister and nephews. He took many pictures of nature and of himself, posting them online. That’s how I got to find his profile and his hot picture.

Back to my small cozy living room, I pace around and admire again the city lights. I close my eyes in happiness and imagine Valter here beside me enjoying this cool view… I just need to send him a message and my dreams will come true!

At times like this that a good friend is most needed. I bite my nails and wish to speak to someone, just anybody. I pick up the phone and mean to call mom. I dial but hang up right away. No, mother will ask me too many questions, for she knows me too well. Besides, she hates cops and thinks they’re all crooks. Not to mention the idea of meeting men online. And the rest of the story, God forbit she hears about it. Instead, I decide to call Eduardo, my ex-boyfriend. He can be selfish, but he is a great listener and quite practical. He will surely lecture me against the idea of picking up guys who are outlaws. But I trust Valter and believe in his honesty.

“Oh, hi dear! At last you’ve called, Ken!”

“I hope it’s not too late for you, is it?” I bite my nails.

“Nope. Well, by your tone of voice, you’ve got a big load on you, don’t you?”

“Yes…” I ask him how he’s keeping himself lately.

As far as I know, he has worked as a manager of a large clothing store. He confirms that. Then, I pour out my heart to him. He remains mute, which is a bad sign. Then, he literally fires question after question about Valter and his character. I feel overwhelmed by his invasion of privacy! Then, he says he needs time to think about this case and that we should talk about it in person. So, we arrange to have coffee at a bakery near his place of work downtown tomorrow at 4:00 P.M.

On the next next, Edu turns up at the scheduled time. He looks hot in his suit and sunglasses. He also displays a medium-sized belly and has gotten stronger too. I suppose he’s been working out at the gym. We sit and he removes his sunglasses. By the look in his eyes I can tell we’re not going to have a pleasant chat today. I intimately wish I hadn’t called him in the first place. I take a deep breath and listen to what he has to say.

He waits for our drinks to arrive and sips his coffee with no sugar. He says he’s checked my Orkut page and tried to find out more about Valter. I nod and drink my coffee, ready to hear about the shot and fight incident. Edu, however, has more to disclose. I pause and bite my lips. Should I close my ears. Why am I willing to go through this!

He holds my hands gently and asks me if I’m really listening. I nod and feel on the verge of tears. My heart skips a beat and I close my eyes. Whatever he has to say, Valter will prove contrary, for he’s been so kind and sweet to me in the last few days. Edu goes on, and I nod. In my head, words like homophobic crimes, inconclusive proofs, trials, vanished young gay men, substance abuse, orgy parties, keep echoing. Enough! I tell him to stop! I try as hard as I can not to cry, but God, I cannot allow Edu to do this to me. It’s not fair for my sake and for Valter’s sake too.

My voice comes out hoarse, hurt, and deeply sad. I am surely on denial. I refuse to listen to anything more about Valter. I feel dizzy and need air.

“Forgive me, dear. But I’ve got to go. I promise, I’ll call you. Bye dear and thanks for taking your time!” He nods and just tells me to be careful.

My elevator takes forever to arrive at my floor. I pant outside and feel the walls and reach my door. I don’t remember how I got home, but I do remember taking the subway, entering my building, taking my mail, the elevator, the apartment, and dropping everything on the floor. I also remember having picked up my phone and cancelling all my private classes for the evening, for I teach private English lessons. I try to hold back my tears and feel a bitter taste in my mouth. It feels as if I had bitten a very sweet fruit that left my mouth a bitter after-taste. I try to get rid of its poison, but cannot. I feel I must confront Valter. But how on eath am I going to bring this subject up with him? Hasn’t he shown me enough evidence he’s a fine man? Hasn’t he already been so true to me? Surely he’ll be surprised by those terrible accusations. And what is more, he’ll feel betrayed. What have I done! I’ve betrayed our trust by letting doubts seep into our friendship!

After much thought and consideration, I realize this cannot go on. I mechanically type something that is not me, not from my heart, not from my soul. Then, I press send.

I take a shower, try to watch TV, eat ice-cream, clean my kitchen, everything in order to shut the events of today off my head. Try as I might, nothing works. As I scrub my stove, wipe my tears. I lean against the wall and slowly fall on the floor. I remain on my kitchen floor and sob. I hear the old yellow kitchen clock ticking. I check the time: midnight. I remove my green rubber gloves and decide to go to bed. I close my blinders and do not wish to see the city lights anymore.

On Friday, my day drags on dreadfully. I manage to teach all my classes, and the last class, I end it 15 minutes earlier, because of a headache. As I reach the street, I feel empty inside. I feel like I am drowning in this sea of concrete, cars, people, and deception. Out of kindness Edu urges me to have coffee with him once more. He says he needs to apologize. I say there is no need to, now that, steps were taken...

He holds my hands and says he feels sorry. I take a deep breath and announce that I’m heading for the beach tomorrow. He looks at me in surprise. He says it’s a good idea. Then, he corrects himself, looks away, and says he has to go. I laugh at myself, and wonder, who would ever go to the beach on ‘Finados’ holiday! What better remedy for this situation can I think of than run away from all this madness!

On the following day, I wake up at 5:00 A.M. and get my stuff ready: sunscreen, a straw hat, a beach towel, and my Simone du Beauvoir book. I look at my Canon camera and hesitate. Then, I take it along.

Before 5:45 I’m holding my bus ticket at Jabaquara Bus Terminal. The bus should leave at 6:00 for Santos Beach. I look around and notice how crowded the bus is going to be, for everybody wishes to go to the beach, even on the day of the dead. I look in disapproval to all those people, who in turn, ignore me and keep on chatting happily.

At my window seat, I close the curtain, for I do not wish to watch the beautiful scenery as we go down the plateau. I lean my head against the cold glass window and a polite police officer asks to sit beside me. I suppose he’s from Santos and is returning home. He sits and falls asleep right away.

After the ride down the plateau, we arrive at Santos Bus Terminal. I have to wake up the cop and tell him we’ve arrived at the terminal. He thanks me and exits in a hurry. Then, the bus continues the trip in the city to the beach area. I admire the long canals and beautiful tall old trees. As soon as we reach the main avenue, I get off the bus. Immediatelly, I can feel the salty breeze and lovely beach atmosphere. The air is cool and the waves lick the sand endlessly.

At the distance, I see a ship and don’t know if it’s coming or moving away. I wave and look around, realizing I’m almost wetting my shoes in the water. I don’t care and just take from my bag the photo I have of Valter, near one of the canals. I am at the very same spot he was, and deposit it in the water. The little piece of paper vanishes amids the foam, sand, and shimmering water. I smile. At last I feel released from this horrible feeling I’ve had. Someone sees me and makes the sign of the cross. I smile and walk away.

The sand feels nice under my feet. I take a long walk and shed tears as I admire the beautiful endless sea. I find a lovely place among rocks and sit at a secluded spot and admire the blue horizon. I take out my book and read a few pages. I feel immersed in Ms. Beauvoir’s wisdom.

More tears as my heart thinks of São Paulo, though I am in Santos, on the beach. I close my book and take another walk. Then, drink coconout water at a kiosk and admire the view. I don’t feel hungry. Instead, I sit under a lovely shade and meditate for what seems to be a long time.

Did I fall asleep? I look around and realize time has passed fast. I check my watch. I've still got half hour before heading back to the big city, for I usually come to the beach and only spend part of the day here. I stand up and feel dizzy from the heat. I walk towards the ticket booth and get my return ticket. I see the bus coming at the distance. As I board it, I see some people shooting pictures of the beach. Then I realize today is the first time I came here and have not taken a single photo.

For sure, today’s visit to the beach has been the hardest one I’ve ever taken! I admire the view of the sea, Santos city and wish things were different. At the same time, in my heart I feel released and glad with myself. We end up taking a bit of traffic as we arrive in the city. As I get off the bus at the large noisy terminal, it’s already getting dark. I walk slowly towards the subway and wish to call Edu, for I’m feelingbetter tonight and wish to share my happiness with him.

Then, eight subway stations later, I get off at Paraíso Station and cannot help but notice people here and there dressed up in scary costumes. Suddenly, it dawns on me that people are gathering for the Zombie Walk today. I check my watch and realize it’s already 7:30 P.M. I feel a cold feeling in my stomach and try to think of my quick trip to the beach instead. I know that a cold shower and my bed will work miracles for me tonight.

More people shouting and excited parade in their costume heading towards the subway. I walk on their opposite direction along the endless underground tunnel on my right. This place is quite familiar and I take the small escalator towards the exit at Domingos de Moraes Street. Others leave in a hurry and walk past me. I just walk slowly, lost in my thoughts.

As I get off the escalator to reach the street, I notice a tall strong man dressed in a Jason costume, from Friday 13th movie. However, he does not have a bloody machette in his strong hand. Instead, a large bunch of red roses. This image is just quite odd but sweet. Some people ask to take photos with him. I stop by him and smile.

“Excuse me sir. If you're going for the zombie walk, you have to go downtown. That's where everybody is gathering.” He turns to me slowly. Our eyes meet.

“Ken?” His brown eyes stare at me. I wonder how he knows my… “You've finally come!” I freeze.

“Valter?” I say this word automatically. “A-are you Valter?”

“Yes, it’s me!” He takes off his mask.

He has black paint around his large deep brown eyes. I also notice a scar on his cheek and right ear.

“You found me, Valter.” I cover my mouth. He nods and has tears in his eyes.

“I could not help but look for you in the big city.” He smiles.

Some people ask to take photos with him and he has to put his mask back on again. He is very gentle and poses with them. A young boy feels scared. His mom tells Jason is but a man in a costume. Valter kneels down and lets the boy take off his mask.

“See, I’m a man, just like you.”

“So, you really don’t kill people?” Valter shakes his head. “You’re not a bad man?” The boy touches Valter’s face.

“No. I too have a heart.” He welcomes the boy, who gives him a hug. The mother thanks Valter and they leave.

“Ken, I went to the party downtown, but it felt so empty, so meaningless without you... I only knew you lived near here and… by a miracle, I found you…” I have tears in my eyes. He dries them and caresses my face.

“Jason, I mean, Valter, let's put those roses in a nice vase.” He looks up. “I love red roses and, a nice story too.” He gives me the flowers and we hug. His embrace is quite reassuring and I feel confidence in this man. As we walk down the street to my place, people can't help but stare at us on the street.

“Happy Halloween!” We shout.