moments of the night - part lll

But then... something happens... and in the loneliness and the darkness of the night... I whisper her name... and like a predator in the night I listen for the echos to come back to me... I stumble in the black and the empty and the cold of my corridors sniffing for traces of memories that know not these dwellings... I search for her scent... for the talcum powder... and perfume... her breath covered in coffee... her hair buried in spices... her lips... hiding behind lemon peels... I hunt for her like Azrael tracks a wayward soul that refuses to go back home... like a legionnaire crawling through the mud in pursuit of his papers of freedom... I chase her in the stillness and the quiet and the forgotten hour of my madness... for a simple... tiny... insignificant sign... that perhaps... if she is at all inclined... in that far away place in which she dwells... she remembers that she once promised me love eternal... kisses and wishes without end.... desire without a price and loyalty without question... does she remember that I cared for her... that I looked out for her and protected her... that I changed my world for her and built my life for her... does she remember that I shed my armor for her... I peeled of the past for her and lived only in the moment with her... that I let go of my fears for her and the regrets of the life I abandoned before her... does she remember that I climbed out of a nest of dragons for her... and... when she slipped through the grip of some drunken demon... I was the one that caught her... and hid her away... and bartered what was left of my soul... for a few moments more with her... one last breath for her... one more heart beat for her... one more kiss from her... a whisper... a sigh... the taste of the salt... from a tear of  her eye... but then... something happens... and I find myself alone... on the floor... making deals with the devil... in the blindness and the deepness and the overpowering calmness... the unostentatious elegance of these moments of the night...

bulldog

BULLDOG

multimedia collage

***

a thousand miles from nowhere...

...wishing the morning away...

I laid on my stomach and tried to wish the morning away...

She laid on top of me... kissing my neck... my shoulder... my ear...

I ignored her... I thought of  Veronica... Carmen...  Diana... this moment just keeps repeating itself... the women are different every time... but it keeps coming back to me... or I keep running to it... either way... this moment is where I find myself in this morning... she says she is in love... I ignore her and try to wish the morning away...

She whispered her plans for the day in my ear but I started to think about an autocross race I was once co-pilot for... It was  in 1997 - I think... and David - who was driving almost flipped the car on a curve... I remember wishing at the time that he had  flipped it, and that the car would catch fire and we would go up in flames before anyone could get us out... oh the cars I have flipped over... and I am still here... the cars that have caught fire and still, I linger... all those accidents and near misses and I still walk among the un-dead... I do not drive too often... not too often in these many years since I called the Plymouth my home... but... sometimes... just sometimes... I want to drive off a cliff... but I know I would survive... why this was going through my mind as she spoke gently into my ear... I do not know... I haven’t seen David in so many years... who knows what became of him...

She gets off me and leaves the room... I closed my eyes for an instant and dreamed of Veronica... riding in taxis and buses and rented cars with Veronica... the way she would look at the world through the windshield or out her window as we blazed down the city streets or down a country road... I would watch her even as she stared out the windows of a bus... she looked at the world... at the city she knew so very well, as if she had just arrived... it was all new and marvelous for her... every time... I believe... she would have been happy if she could have stayed in a moving vehicle forever... looking out the window as the world passed her by.... I never asked her how she felt or what she was thinking as we traveled through time in our gas powered machines...  But I knew she was thrilled and happy and content all at once... I would often borrow Frankie’s car at night and take her for long rides around Asuncion.. ‘round parks and new neighborhoods... driving in circles with no place to go and let her look up at the lights that filled the streets with Christmas... with magic... with some kind of awe that I will never be able to experience or understand the way Veronica knew it... and I long for it... or at the very least... one more ride in a moving vehicle with her...

I rolled on to my back and open my eyes... I was confused for a bit... the way you are when you first wake up from a long sleep in a new room... but this was my room... my room...

Valentina stood at the edge of the bed folding my freshly laundered t-shirts and shorts... and socks... I rose up on one shoulder to watch her...

“Was I sleeping...”

She smiles at me and I watch her fold my shirts... she folds them delicately and precise... and carefully calculated like a mathematically complicated geometric design... and after every fold she runs her hand over it to flatten out the fabric... she stacks my shirts on top of each-other and lays them side by side in rows arranged by color... watching her do this inspires something in me... and I speak...

“Let’s stay in today... we’ll cook and eat and... drink... and make love...”

She smiles at me...

I continue...
“we’ll get some movies and lounge around...”

It was on the third time she had visited my home that Valentina did my laundry... I didn’t stop her... and I let her cook for me and clean for me... and she irons too... I had to fight with her not to iron my dungarees or t-shirts... I never have, and don’t want her to do so - I always felt it was stupid and a bit gay for a man to iron his blue jeans and t-shirts... they were made for working and roughing it any way... not to impress anyone...

I wait for her reply...

She picks up my clothes and puts my socks in my sock drawer the way I like them organized - by color and fabric... and my shorts in their drawer... she walks to the closet and puts my denim in their shelves and my tees in their... she turns to the bed and crawls back in...

She cuddles up to me and buries herself  into the bed with me... draped in my arms and secure in my chest... she lets out a soft sigh and begins talking about what movies we should get and what she will make us for dinner... I stare at the ceiling and ignore her... 

and try to wish the morning away...

Executive Assistant Needed...

Is that the  politically correct term for number one secretary?
Because that is as politically correct as I will get - besides... the job is in Chile... and I am Latin American and we are not politically correct people  - it just sounds stupid... and you agree with me... you would have to agree with me as I am the boss...and you are not being hired for your opinion... unless it concerns lunch...

I find that the most urgent need to travel has come upon me the way madness creeps up on certain men of genius’ but there is work that needs to get done... and it must get done... but I must travel or the insanity will take over... with that said my personal assistant must have experience in dealing with unstable-artistic-creative types... that start projects and move on when boredom and creative dry spells set in - but if you can help to keep me motivated and the artistic juices flowing you will be greatly rewarded...

What you will be doing:
Typing... lots and lots of typing... and transcribing hours of dictated tapes and digital recordings of ideas, stories and random thoughts - you will have to organize all of these and attempt to make sense of it all. 

You will review business plans and sort out what looks like a proposal worthy of my time as a financial broker... though I am slowly moving away from this business... I am going to keep milking it for as long as I can...

You will help me expand my art collection and help me to keep it archived along with my collection of first edition books - help to sort out what will be kept and what we should put out on the market - you may also have to attend auctions and bid on items online... every once in a while I will represent an artist... so you will have to have knowledge of the art industry - who’s who and who’s buying who... what’s moving and what’s shaking...

You will need an understanding of the stock market and dividends - this is not complicated and I will teach you if you don’t understand how stocks and bonds and funds work... for this you will need to speak Cantonese, Mandarin, Japanese and German... and Spanish as we are based in Chile...

You will mostly be dealing with my associate at The Celestial Elephant Paper Co. Based in India and for this you will have to have experience in graphic design, layout, pre and post printing production, public relations, advertising, editing, sales, and promotions...

You may be doing some traveling and it is recommended that you do not travel on an American passport - in fact, I am not hiring Americans.  Your expenses will be taken care of and you will be staying in house - that’s my house - so you may have to make the coffee and cook, but most importantly be able to run off the over night guests before they make themselves too comfortable - for this you will have to be strong and firm and not a bit afraid to treat them like common whores... this will not happen too often... but it happens... note that I tend to stay up for a couple of days at a time and not speak - I may ignore you many times but that is simply because my mind is on other things and you should not be too sensitive about this... when my brain has had enough I will sleep... for a very long time... and there will be times when I will simply lock myself away in my room or my study and not come out for days... at this point it will be up to you to make sure that I am eating and kept hydrated... when I do emerge I may seem irritated and a bit loony... again you must be strong enough to ignore this behavior as it has nothing to do with you... But when the madness has taken complete control - I will vanish without warning or explanations and will not make contact until I have found myself at my destination - wherever in the world that may be... but of course you will have to keep close track of these times as I might also have been kid-napped or abducted... if it is a kid-napping - pay the fuckers... if it is an abduction - you should quit and find new employment... I will write a letter of recommendation before hand in case I never come back - or you could stay and manage it all in my absence since that is basically what you will be doing anyhow...

Your attire:
It is a man’s world and you will mostly be dealing with men - old men who are not American and appreciate feminine women - that means no pants and no masculine behavior - just act like a woman, behave like a woman and dress like a woman... you will be representing me so you will have to be confident, firm, sophisticated, well read, well dressed, with a touch of class and elegance... but always remember that you are feminine... you are a female... working for a madman... you type, and edit and sort... you get coffee and scotch and clean the study... you pick up the mail and send the mail and once in a while pick up from the cleaners... you file and you organize and you keep my circle small - you are the gate keeper... you are my girl Friday... keep quiet and keep my secrets secret and respect those in the circle and your opinions to yourself... unless in concerns lunch and you may just learn some things about the world and making money... Turns out I am an old fashion man - and I need an old fashioned no nonsense secretary... to help keep things running smoothly as I wander the beaches of South America...

Only serious applicants please... girls with nice legs will be given first considerations...