Shambhala Page 4

  “What’s the matter with you, Aurora?” I asked myself. “Don’t be so silly and worrying about this nonsense. If he comes on to you and you don’t feel like it, you’re old enough to stop him. Shit! You’re 32 years old, you’re not a child. And anyway, it isn’t like he’d be the first you’ve slept with. But wait, who said anything about anyone sleeping together? Stop thinking, Aurora, stop thinking. Besides, calm down, surely he isn’t thinking about anything weird and we’ll continue having a nice, innocent conversation like we were having at the restaurant. Ha, what a joke, calm and innocent conversation? Not even you believe that. More than once, you’ve wanted to jump his bones, so don’t pretend otherwise now. No, no, no. Throw myself at him? No. Or yes? No, I don’t think so. It’s just the joy of seeing him again and being in his company. Aurora, calm down! There’s nothing to worry about. God, I’m going to have a stroke...”

  Ian got out of the car and slammed the door shut. That brought me out of my thoughts that were racing around in my own confusion. Nothing made sense. I was a mess and felt like it. I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on looking for the keys in my bag. Ian waited at my side. I was afraid for a few seconds that my nervousness would show, and I sighed in exasperation.

  “Yay, here they are!” I said, waving the keys above my head in a victorious gesture. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ian smile.

  I opened the door, and we called the elevator. We went up in silence and for a moment I was afraid I’d fantasize about him inside that small box, so instead I tried to think about the things I had to eat and drink in the fridge.

  We finally arrived at the second floor. I shot out of that inciting metallic box and headed to the door of my apartment. I energetically inserted the key in the lock and after a couple of turns of the latch, I was able to move the trap that separated us from the inside of my lair.

  “Come in,” I said, inviting him in.

  Ian slowly came in. The dim light made him take the first couple of steps cautiously, probably afraid of running into something. That morning, rushing to get to work early, I’d forgotten to leave the blinds up so the light was very faint and it was hard to see. Before that lack of brightness became a cozy invitation to eroticism, I decided to turn on all the lamps that I found in my path.

  “Come on, I’ll show you the house.”

  “It’s hot in here!” he said, unbuttoning his jacket.

  It was hot. Since I hadn’t touched the thermostat, the heater had been on since four in the afternoon. Besides, I hated the cold so I always had it at a minimum of 70º. I took his jacket from him and when we got to my room, I threw it on the bed next to mine.

  I tried to show him my home quickly, but he wanted to see every space, every detail. I knew that many of the objects were familiar to him and it was possible they brought back strong memories. When we got to my office, he stopped cold. One of the walls was covered with photos, drawings and other things of my brother’s—one of his soccer jerseys that I’d framed behind glass years ago. It stood out in the middle of everything, with the number 13 on the back, my favorite number. He stopped to look at it.

  “This is my office,” I said in a soft voice.

  He nodded, but said nothing. He kept standing there, looking from one side to another. I noticed that he’d seen one photo that was a little larger than the others. I picked up the photo of Eric, Ian and me. I’d posed between the two of them in a party hat. We were celebrating my brother’s twenty-ninth birthday. Ian came over slowly to look at it more closely. There was a smile on his face. I felt that expression was full of happiness for old memories, as well as longing. I followed in his steps until I was close to him, and he turned around.

  “You were particularly pretty that day,” he said tenderly, with the same beautiful expression of melancholy happiness.

  I looked at him and smiled shyly. Without thinking twice, I went closer and hugged him. I put my head on his shoulder and held him tightly. He took a deep breath and immediately responded by wrapping me firmly in his arms. They gave me the security that I’d been missing for five years, and I felt my energy evaporate. My legs were shaking, my heart was beating fast. A strange heat ran through my body from top to bottom. I thought for a moment that I was going to faint. But no. I remained standing, delighting in the affection that he was sending me, enjoying him at last.

  The seconds passed without either of us moving, without being able to detach from each other.

  “I’m sorry I left you alone for so long,” he said in a sweet, almost imperceptible voice.

  “I’m sorry, too, that you weren’t here during those years,” I confessed shyly, remembering our conversation in the restaurant.

  It felt like we were both afraid to let go, or to look each other in the eye. For my part, I feared that if I looked at him too closely I would want to kiss him; on the other hand it seemed as if he were afraid of hurting me again.

  Little by little, I tried to lift my head from his chest, but for a second I noticed that he wasn’t letting up in his unrestrained emotion. Deep down I didn’t care, I was very comfortable. I think I could have stayed there for hours. But when I was about to relax my chest again against his, he took me by the elbows and firmly moved away. He fixed his hazel eyes on mine. I wanted to look away but I felt hypnotized. I noticed my heartbeat raced out of control. I tried to breathe deeply to relax myself, but that made it more obvious that I was getting nervous. Even so, he stayed quiet, observing me, analyzing my face, my expression, my eyes, then my mouth. The feeling that time was moving in slow motion disconcerted me completely. I wanted to know what he was thinking, why he looked at me so fearlessly, yet did nothing. But it was useless. His facial features were so impassive that I couldn’t deduce any interpretation. Finally, he slowly leaned in towards my face. I don’t know if I thought he was going to kiss me or I was hoping that he would, but I acted the same way, moving in the same direction. Luckily, something seemed to stop me, which I was soon glad of, because at that moment, he leaned to one side, near my neck, and started to sniff.

  “What perfume are you wearing?” he asked, bringing me out of my cloud of fantasy and right back to Earth.

  Honestly, I wasn’t expecting that. It was a little frustrating. And in fact it must have shown on my face or in my response.

  “The same as always,” I said without thinking, moving away from him.

  “Did something I said bother you?” Obviously that question was the only thing that could have irritated me, but at the same time, I was aware that it wasn’t something annoying enough to have bothered me. I tried to go off on a tangent.

  “Do you want some coffee?” I said, laughing.

  Anyone who did not know me would think I had a personality disorder or something.

  “What?”

  “Do you want coffee?” I repeated, still smiling. It was clear I had completely disoriented him, so I took the opportunity to get out of his hands and run to the kitchen.

  As soon as I left the room, I felt my lungs filling up. It was a very uncomfortable situation. On the way to my hiding place, I reproached myself for getting confused about wanting him to kiss me.

  “Arrgghh, what a delusional fantasy!” I reproached myself angrily.

  I knew it was best to leave things as they were and not mix things up. Besides, what was the reason for this sudden ‘carnal weakness’? Apparently I was looking for a boyfriend, or at least a one-night stand. So many months of abstinence were playing tricks on me.

  I went into the kitchen and turned on the tap to get myself a big glass of cold water. I put some in the tea kettle to make myself some chamomile mint tea. I didn’t want coffee—that’s all I needed, was to get more excited.

  I didn’t notice that Ian was behind me and as soon as I turned around, I tripped over him. Luckily I didn’t get him wet. The last thing I needed was a typical movie scene where the attractive man has to take off his wet shirt to dry it and the female protagonist drools over the naked chest of h
er guest. No, fortunately, it just got the floor wet.

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have stood behind you,” he said hastily.

  “No worries, I’ll get the mop and clean it right up.”

  That gave me a reason to quickly get away from him. That move made me realize that now the one running away was me. What was I so afraid of? Why was I avoiding him? I stood there with the mop for a few seconds trying to get my head together and my nerves calmed down.

  “Calm down,” I told myself, “everything’s fine. He isn’t going to disappear again.”

  Instead of disappearing, what he did was appear right at my side. A cat made more noise moving than he did.

  “Sorry, I’ve startled you,” he offered another apology, seeing me jump.

  “I didn’t hear you come up.”

  “I think I should go. I feel you’re uncomfortable and I don’t want to bother you,” he said understandingly.

  His words immediately reassured me, and that, added to the simple fact that he could leave and I didn’t know when I would see him again, prompted me to ask him to stay.

  “I’m sorry,” I explained. “I don’t know why, but I’m nervous. I’d like you to stay awhile, if you want to of course.”

  I suddenly realized that I didn’t know if he was the one who felt uncomfortable and had used that excuse to leave. On the other hand, although I didn’t want to overwhelm him since it was already late, I had just confessed that I wanted him to stay with me longer.

  His answer surprised me.

  “I think I’d stay with you the rest of my life if you’d let me,” he said, his face serious.

  I raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out if he was teasing me or if he really felt comfortable when we were together. That led to another uncomfortable situation. Again, he looked deeply into my eyes while I, like an idiot, got lost in his gold and emerald eyes. But this time it was different. Something in me breathed more easily. I trusted him completely, in his judgment, in anything he might do or say. His hand rested gently on my face. I felt it gently move down my neck, towards the back of my head. His touch was pleasant, his soft skin, his warm palm.

  “Aurora, you feel hot,” he said in a concerned tone.

  That shook me out of my exhilaration.

  “What?” I said incredulously.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, worried.

  “Yes, I’m a little tired and sleepy,” I said after analyzing my body.

  “I think you have a fever,” he explained.

  Except the heat running through my body, I didn’t feel ill at all. In my whole life, I’d never had a fever that provoked internal heat, in fact, it was usually the opposite—cold and very disagreeable, uncontrollable shaking.

  “Do you have a thermometer?” Ian asked, bringing me out of my musings.

  “Yes, in the third drawer in the bathroom, in my bedroom.”

  We both went towards the bedroom. I sat on the bed while he looked for the device.

  In a few seconds, he brought it to me, giving it to me to put under my arm. While I moved my blouse, Ian was feeling my head again, first my forehead, then my face and neck.

  That must not have told him much, because then he rested his cheek on my skin, starting his journey again. That gesture reminded me of my mother trying to figure out my temperature when I was sick. I unconsciously smiled, and he noticed.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said, smiling more openly now. His look questioned me.

  “You sure you don’t want to tell me?”

  “You reminded me of my mother, that’s all.”

  That made him smile with tenderness.

  We were quiet for a couple of minutes until the thermometer gently sounded, and brought us back to reality. Without giving me time, Ian hurried to remove the thermometer.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “It’s almost 102º, ” he responded, alarmed. “How is it possible you didn’t know you had a fever?” he said, notably surprised.

  “I suppose I was enjoying being with you and didn’t notice.”

  I regretted answering him without thinking first but, if I said anything else I shouldn’t, I could always blame it on the delirium brought by the high temperature. Just then a chill ran through my body and my vision suddenly blurred. Ian noticed the expression on my face and came over quickly to hold me up.

  “Are you okay?”

  “A little nauseated, I think.”

  Actually, I didn’t understand what was happening. I’d never had fever and nausea like this before.

  “Lie down,” he ordered, while he held me with one hand and pushed the bedspread off the bed.

  “Yes, I think it’s best I lie down.”

  He took off my boots and helped me lie down.

  “Wait here, I’m going to get a wet washcloth to put on your head.”

  “I’ll wait for you here.” I certainly wasn’t planning on going anywhere, I didn’t have the strength. I suddenly felt so heavy it was almost impossible to do anything but stay lying down.

  “Do you want to take something to help bring down the fever?” he yelled from the kitchen.

  I didn’t feel like talking and didn’t feel like taking any medication, either. I’d rather wait it out a bit before introducing chemicals to my organism.

  “No, I’d rather not take anything,” I said when he came back into the bedroom with a wet towel.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “I don’t like pills unless it’s life or death.” My answer was blunt so as not to unnecessarily prolong the conversation.

  “Okay.”

  I didn’t know if I’d sounded harsh, so I apologized. I didn’t want to upset him over something silly.

  “Don’t worry, I understand,” he confessed. “I’m the same way. I don’t like to take medications or anything like that. I don’t like them, but since many people do, I thought maybe you did.”

  While he argued, I noticed my eyelids getting heavier. I just wanted to close them.

  “I think...I’m going to sleep,” my words came out slowly, as if they were crawling through the air without any strength.

  “Sleep. You’ll feel better.”

  Before I could tell him he could go home, that it wasn’t necessary to stay there and take care of me, I fell into a deep sleep. It was as if they’d put a sleeping pill in my food and it was taking effect now. For some strange reason, I slept peacefully. I wasn’t cold or in pain. In fact it was the opposite, I felt a strong internal heat running through my body, and considering how cold I usually was, it was very pleasant.

  Ian took off his shoes and sat on the other side of the bed, at my back. I was curled up in a corner in a fetal position, leaving a big space for him to get comfortable.

  Every few minutes, he gently changed the wet, almost icy compress on my forehead. At the same time, he checked my temperature with his gentle hand or his cheek. But I didn’t move. I slept deeply as if I were alone in my room, while at the same time I felt his presence, his company, his protection. It was a very comfortable state, similar to the care and attention I’d got from my brother when I was young. That emotion made me exhale a deep breath while I slept. Ian leaned over to see if I had awakened, but no, I was still in placid stillness.

  After awhile, I woke up with a singular idea. Even though my eyes weren’t even open yet, the idea was churning in my head to let him, if he wanted to, go home and rest. I understood it wasn’t fun to stay there taking care of me and that he very probably had better things to do than changing washcloths for my head.

  Besides, there was no reason to worry, I already felt much better. Despite feeling heavy as lead, I noticed the almost total absence of fever and that gave me great peace of mind. I figured that in a few hours, perhaps before dawn, I’d have got rid of the illness completely.

  My eyelids stayed closed, heavy, tired. That state reminded me of the operation after the accident. My consciousness knew everything that was happe
ning around me even though my body couldn’t react. My eyes kept fighting my desire to open them.

  Finally, after what seemed minutes of battle against that challenging lethargy, I managed it. I could shake it off and get out of that paralyzing fatigue.

  To my amazement, I now felt very light, an unparalleled lightness. I wondered how in just a few minutes, maybe seconds, my body could change from such a leaden condition to feeling almost weightless.

  I sat up and sat on the bed. I looked around and saw Ian at my side, asleep. Apparently it was too late to tell him to go home before he got sleepy.

  I moved my hand towards his arm to gently shake him and wake him up, tell him I was better, but when I went to touch him, I noticed that my body had transformed. It was kind of a disembodied silhouette that could respond to my thoughts and mental orders. I didn’t have the mass any more that had given me the form, volume, and density I had before. I wondered what was happening.

  Surprise could have taken over but on the contrary, I kept quite calm and that—staying calm in that unexpected situation—caused me more confusion.

  I observed that calmness, trying to figure out where it came from. It was as if something made me notice that, somehow, I was familiar with all of that and, at the same time, wanted to convey to me that I had nothing to worry about. However, no matter how hard I tried to think, and remember any other situation like that, I couldn’t.

  I waited what would have been a few seconds for my body while I calmed my mind.

  In that state, time was different, it didn’t have the same feel as what we know here, in normal life.

  I wondered what was happening to me. And, almost as if by magic, the answers started coming on their own. In an instant, I became aware that I was still asleep, but awake at the same time. That state was so real...

  My new presence, if it could be called that, was right next to my usual body, which remained motionless, in a fetal position, just as I had fallen asleep, with its back to me. On the other hand, I felt very awake. My conscious was lucid.

  I was enjoying that rational state of mind, but with a different appearance, with an almost intangible mass—if I were pushed, I’d say ghostly, and despite appearing to be dead, I felt so alive...so energetic and healthy, and so “me”, that it was all fascinating to me, while at the same time confusing.