DOROTEA - Fast car

Everyone is quiet. As if we were waiting for something to happen. No one wants to touch it, not for some reason in particular, just because I guess we kinda expect someone else will do it. Silence. My house, my father and mother and myself, we’re all lousy and talk loud and make noise all the time, not like we do it on purpose, but it’s just the way we are, we can’t help it. But now, we’re quiet. Silence reigns.

We gaze above it. Into its endless possibilities. We all know our whole conception of my mother depends on this, or at least if she can be trusted or not. It looks back to us. Inanimate eyes, frozen and moveless. It can sense our fear, I know it.

Some time ago I remember talking to Jose about the concept of thing itself. One day, with his chronic asshole gaze, he started yapping:

     “Basically, nothing is nothing in itself, except from its relation to oneself, to us. We classified and define stuff only according to its relation to us” he loved (or maybe he still does? whatever) talking about this larger than life stuff (where did I put my BSB discs by the way?).

     “You know this is probably the most boring piece of information I’ve received the whole day? Maybe the whole month” I told him. Kinda bitchy, I know it.

      “Come on, don’t be like that. At least bear with me. I kinda want to talk about this, please?” His asshole gaze transformed into a cute asshole gaze, so I remember giving up.

     “Okay okay, go on”

     “Think about a window. The whole concept of window depends on its function, but it’s just a hole thru a wall no? If this hole is bigger, big enough so you can go inside and outside, it becomes a door.”

     “Or a very big window”

     “Even so, that would change its name. I just think it’s kinda amazing how everything just, in a sense, revolves around ourselves. Things are what they are because we see them that way, we know them being something, so they always have been that, you know, how the concept is the thing”

     “Oh yeah sure, I’ve always known that”

     “Duh” he stuck his tongue out and was back to his original gaze. Looking back now, maybe his asshole gaze was a direct consequence of my sense of humor.

So here we are, looking at a tupperware, making it be something maybe it is not. I wonder if the whole issue about it being magical or not depends on how we conceptualize it.

     “Can we open it already!?” I yell.

     “We must first decide what we want most as a dessert honey” my mother tells me. A while ago, when she arrived from… where? I don’t know. My dad and I told her the whole thing about the tupperware and the neighbor. And she so calm and serious told us:

     “So? What would we like it to be?”

     “You seriously think it is true mom?”

     “Yeah why not?"

     "Becase it's nuts"

      "I've told you. Every few years these type of things happen in this town. It is so sporadic and sometimes lasts very little that only a few people remember it. But I'm inclined to believe it”

     “What is sporadic?”

      “These little events. Thirty years ago the owner of the local mall grew rich overnight because he was chasing his dead dog into the woods. Or a friend I used to have who died under weird ciscunstamces. You just have to be very awake to see that something, maybe not magical but not-normal was at play. But if one goes around saying that the fortune of that old man or the sudden trip that girl took was a matter of magic, they would surely think you crazy, I believe that’s why every time it happens we as a town tend to forget, but my grandmother lived it too, so I know I’m not crazy”

     “You sure that old man wasn’t always rich? I always thought so” My father is genuinely confused.

     “So, what you’re saying is that there is a high chance this tupper is actually what the neighbor said it was?” I ask my mother, still thinking this whole thing is borderline lame, why on earth should we have magic in the town and have it wasted on magical tupperwares with desserts?

     “Yes. Exactly” My mother says, without a hint of irony “Mmm… chocolate cake?”

     “No mom, something harder to get on our own… carrot cake?”

     “I don’t like it that much” says my father.

     “So… cheesecake?” I said. Oh gosh, yes, I’d love some cheesecake.

     “Ok. So here we go”

My mother pulls the lid. As the tupperware opens… yes, there’s cheesecake inside.

     “Ok, so what were the chances of the lady knowing we would decide for cheesecake and put it there beforehand? Do you think she has wired our house? Do you think we’re being listened to right now?!” I scream at the end. I’m totally joking, but as the mental laugh fades away, I can’t stop but thinking that it might be true, creepier things have happened everywhere.

     “Next to zero?” My mom says “For that your father should’ve been involved, since he spends a lot of time in the house lately” She’s right.

     “Should we go talk to her? You can’t go to other people’s houses and start offering magical objects as if they were the most common thing in the world” Without me knowing, I’ve put a serious face all of a sudden. What’s the deal with this anyway? If this is magic or something like that, it surely has more dangerous uses beyond creating desserts out of thin air.

     "No honey, I think we must keep our distance with our neighbor. Once we finish the cheesecake I’m gonna return the tupper with some meal inside and that’s it. Don’t think it would be wise to interfere with her, we’re not even sure what she is.

     “What do you mean mom?” More curious than scared I am, but still…

     “Ok so let me tell me you a story my grandma told me and you aunt Diana when we were little” My mother gets confortable on a stool.

     “I know I’ve said it before, but her father, your great-great-grandfather left her and her mom (your great-great-grandmother). But it was kinda weird how it happened, I didn’t believe her until years later some mystic things happened to me too. She said everything was normal at home, her parents didn’t say ‘I love you’ too much but she knew they were in love, they were together still, despite the thick and thin they ‘ve been through. He did not drink, that was a plus so my grandma’s story never was one of abuse. Until one day her father went out to buy some groceries, wasn’t early, they’ve already eaten, but the sun was beginning to set and it was strange he hasn’t arrived yet. The moment the sky went dark her father entered the house and said something to his wife, my grandma didn’t hear what but moments later he went outside again and returned with someone we’ve never seen before, at least that she knew. A tall man, skinny, sleepy eyes and a mustache like you only see in mexican movies of old. Apparently my great-grandfather met him that evening and were chatting until it was too late. Apparently, grandma instantly feel something was off with him because she saw how her mother got the goosebumps. The old man John (that how they started calling him) stayed until dinner chatting with her father and having awkward moments with her mother.

     He didn’t want to stay for dinner, much to the relieve of my great grandmother. But before he left, at least that’s what your grandma remembers, the old man grabbed a suitcase no one even saw he brought inside the house and search for something inside. Your grandma, curious as ever, got closer and saw how the man put some keys on the table and said to your great grand father, words that would resonate inside your grandma’s head forever: ‘There are things a man wants. There are things a man needs. And there are things a man deserves. You, my newest friend, can’t differentiate one thing from the other. These keys are from my car, it's fast enough to get you outta here. I’m gonna leave it parked outside your house and you will have to decide, if you want to stay here with your lovely family or if you leave this place. Tomorrow I’m gonna return to see if my car is still here, if it’s not I’ll assume you made a decision to leave, instead of live and die this way’ The old man took a long glance at my great grandma and great grandpa, said goodbye and leave.

     My grandma never said what her parents said to each other that night, probably she didn’t remembered, probably she didn’t listen at all. She only remembers that, after a while of hearing them yelling at each other, her mother appeared at her bedroom doorstep and tell ‘For me, you are enough honey’ And in the distance, she heard a car driving away into the night. My grandma never bear anything against her father, even tho she never saw him again, that he did not went to say goodbye to her, she always thought that, whatever reason he had to go away, he couldn’t say goodbye to her or he would lose his resolve”

     “Always thought she didn’t even met her father, that he left them when she was too little to remember” I tell my mother.

     “That’s the general impression, but no. Let me finish.

     So the next day, after my grandma hug her mother all night. They wake up to a different reality. Even tho we know now they didn’t struggle, at the moment it should’ve been awful. Your grandma wake up first and when she arrived at the kitchen, she heard someone knocking at the door. Now, she told me that this she never told her mother, so it’s basically a secret. When she went and open the door, there he was, old man John.

     ‘So he actually left’ he said, after seeing the little child opening the door.

     ‘Yes’ my grandma answered.

     ‘I’m sorry’ He said. ‘Your mother and you will be better off without him believe me. He got what he wanted, his youth dream. You’re gonna get what you deserved’ Now, grandma always said she told her mother then that she’d found it, but in a way it was a gift from him. He reached into a bag he apparently was carrying and got out a childsize shovel.

     ‘When I’m gone, pick a spot in your yard and make a hole until something makes you stop. Now, look over there’ So my grandma turned her head the other way and felt a chill through her bones. When she turned her head back. The man was gone.

     As we already know, your grandma found gold, buried right under their noses. Wasn’t much, but enough for them to not be worried about money for the rest of their lives, and a little of her descendants lives, as you can see” My mother takes a glance at the house, built half a century ago.

     “In time, my grandma would forget how her father looked like. But never old man John. He always thought of him as a ghost or monster. That’s why I tell you, it’s better if we stay out of whatever -this-is way.” My mother makes a good point. Suddenly, we realized there’s a strange noise coming from behind us, it’s been going on for a while we just haven’t noticed, with the room so tense… Both my mother and I turn around to see where it’s coming from, just to see something we both wish we could erase from our heads.