También escribo. Esta es una historia de ficción que se me publicó en Virginia, EEUU.
Dark London by Israel Domingo
Here he was without money and a house, a Spaniard living as a squatter in London and all for love of Cristina: Joaquin had had everything in his life. He had never needed anything. He had finished his studies in Madrid his degree, with very good grades and he had worked for two years in a huge advertising company. He had an upper-middle class family who had given him everything he needed.
Everything started when he met Cristina who made him crazy. She was really beautiful and a good person. That was something he couldn’t find easily now. She was generous, loyal, friendly, open-minded and she knew the correct way to do everything. In his eyes she was an angel sent by God. Just perfect.
She was twenty-two, three years younger than Joaquin. She was student in the last year of university and she had gone to London to study that last year as a cultural exchange. Joaquin couldn’t live without her so he decided give up his job in Madrid, and follow her. He left everything. He took the money that he had, not too much, and he went to London.
The first challenge for him in London was, in fact, getting to the city from the Gatwick airport, thirty minutes from London by train. It can look easy, but if you don’t know English, it’s not so easy. He went to the ticket desk and asked: “How much to London, please?”
He hadn’t expected the answer: “Which ticket do you prefer? The train express which doesn’t stop before London but is more expensive, or the train which has more stops and takes a longer time?” He was totally lost. He didn’t understand anything. He had memorized the question from his book.
He spent around twenty minutes trying to speak with the woman who was at the desk. When the woman saw the big queue behind Joaquin, she decided to sell him the express ticket to London. Once there, he met Cristina who had been waiting for him and he forgot all his worries.
A new adventure started. After that meeting with her he had to look for a job in London. He went to every single Job Center and every shop and restaurant to get any kind of job, but he didn’t speak English so nobody wanted him. The only person who wanted him was the owner of a Spanish restaurant. He spoke with Joaquin by telephone and he told him the address of the restaurant and to come for an interview. When Joaquin went to the address he didn’t see a Spanish restaurant. Of course, his bad English had betrayed him, and he had written the incorrect address. When Joaquin called the restaurant to ask for another interview, the position had been taken.
After a month in London, he who had always had everything, was without money or a place to live.
He went to his girlfriend’s house but he couldn’t stay for a long time because it was a house only for women, and the landlord was very strict. He spent one week there before the landlord kicked his ass out. That night he slept in the shade of a dark foreign city. Actually he didn’t sleep. He was cold, very cold. He felt that if he fell asleep he would never wake up. He roamed around London trying to get warm. He was terrified of other people in his condition: homeless, poor people and very unfortunate people.
That night passed slowly, getting colder every minute, and darker. He was worried about this darkness so he decided to go to the city center looking for some light. His girlfriend’s house was in the far off suburbs. He lost count of the miles he walked but he finally arrived.
Joaquin thought how stubborn he had been when his girlfriend told him: “Go back to Spain. What are you going to do without a house and money? Call your parents and tell them you need money and go back to Spain. They love you, and we will meet in three months when I come home to Spain.” Joaquin knew that was true, but he didn’t want to leave London, he wanted stay with Cristina. He wanted to do this for himself and he hadn’t wanted to ask his parents for money, but now he wasn’t as sure as before about that.
He breathed the fog. His clothes were getting wet but he didn’t have any refuge. It was difficult to see ahead more than twenty feet. He felt the cold in his bones. It was January fifteenth and Joaquin thought he would die there in London, but then the sun started to rise and Joaquin’s hope was reborn.
He felt weak and he had to take a seat on a bench. The cold was deep inside him. He prayed to the Father for the sun to rise quicker. He prayed to Virgin Mary to speed up the disappearing fog. He prayed to the Holy Spirit to inflame his heart with life. And while he was there, sitting on a bench, the sun came up, the fog disappeared and he defrosted.
That morning Joaquin went to a church to say thanks to God and to get some warm.
The church was almost empty but he met a man from Poland and they had a nice chat. Joaquin told him what had happened to him that last night. The Polish man’s name was Pavle. He had a Spanish girlfriend who could translate their conversation. God must have wanted to save him in that church: Pavle and Beth were squatters living in London and they invited Joaquin to live with them.
That afternoon Joaquin went to meet Cristina when she got out of her university class. When they met they gave each other a big hug. Joaquin felt that he didn’t need anything in his life and he never regretted going to London. Of course, Cristina was worried about him and she asked what had happened the night before. Joaquin told her everything. She was shocked; she didn’t want him to live as a squatter but Joaquin calmed her down.
They went together to have a late lunch. Joaquin tried to talk about happy things but Cristina was so worried that she couldn’t talk and she didn’t stop asking him questions: “how are you going to live there? Have you seen the house? Do you trust that guy? Isn’t it dangerous to live there?”
Joaquin saw Cristina asking all these questions but he wasn’t listening; he was happy to be with her. He only wanted to enjoy that moment after the previous night when he thought he would die.
After the lunch they went to take all the Joaquin’s stuff from Cristina’s house. He needed to move to the other place that day. When everything was packed, Joaquin said goodbye to Cristina until the next day and, he went to his new house.
This house was actually an abandoned hotel. The government paid the electricity and the hot water for the people who lived there. But there were some rules. He met Pavle and Beth at the door. They were waiting for him. Beth gave him a hug. They showed him his room, an empty space with only a mattress on the floor. He left his suitcase and his guitar, imagining how life would be there.
Pavle showed him the three floors and the basement. The hotel was divided in sections and there were many people living there. On the first floor four Arabic people were living, on the second floor, Pavle, Beth and now Joaquin would live, and on the third floor a couple of married people were living, both from Poland. In the basement was the washing machine.
Joaquin thought it wasn’t so bad. They had hot water, electricity and a washing machine, more than he expected. He knew then that he wouldn’t have to spend more nights on the dark London streets. After that one night, this place where the paint was peeling from the walls, where every corner had a spider web or cockroach hiding, where the smell was awful, where comfort meant sleeping on the floor, he thought it was a great place, and the most important thing, it cost exactly what he had: zero Euros.
He was so tired that he fell asleep early. His only cover was a bath towel. He slept for fourteen hours. When he woke up he decided to explore the whole hotel. He counted three hundred bedrooms, fifteen kitchens, thirty bathrooms and a few useless rooms. All this for only nine people.
That morning Joaquin decided to celebrate his new life by having a hot bath. He realized the hot water wasn’t hot enough. He went to speak with Beth about that. “The water is lukewarm but not warm enough to have a bath.” He said. “Yes, I know we have to boil water to get hot water” Beth answered.
He didn’t want to complain; at least he had a roof over his head, a refuge. He boiled the waterand took his bath. When he finished he didn’t have anything to do. He didn’t have job or any occupation, so he decided clean that really dirty place. Pavle didn’t have time to clean because he worked the whole day and Beth was pregnant. She was in the second month and she felt too sick to clean anything. She had enough to do cleaning her own vomit.
Joaquin wanted to thank them for getting him a house to stay in, so he cooked the dinner that night. Beth and he waited for Pavle and they had the dinner together. This was the same for the first weeks so Joaquin became the homemaker but he didn’t want to be one. He wanted to get a job and a better life, but he felt guilty. He couldn’t leave Beth in her state. Pavle was always outside working for the baby and she was alone and sick. He had to stay. He missed Cristina.
One day, a loud alarm started to sound in the house. Joaquin didn’t know what it was. Beth went down stairs and switched off the alarm. She explained Joaquin it was an alarm that sometimes sounded. It was installed by the government because the condition of living there was that someone had to be in the house at all times. If the alarm sounded and nobody switched it off the government would know no one was there, and they could give the house to other homeless people. Beth taught Joaquin to turn off the alarm if no one else were at home.
Some weeks later Beth felt better and Joaquin tried to find a job. He spoke better English but not enough to work in a restaurant or shop. Pavle, as nice as usual, offered him a job. Pavle got cigarettes from Poland for one pound and Joaquin could sell them for five. Each of them got two pounds. Soon, Joaquin realized it wasn’t so difficult sell those cigarettes in the churches’ doors because five pounds is cheap for a packet of cigarettes in London. The English were used to buying a packet for eight or nine pounds. The police didn’t watch him so it was a good business but he didn’t make enough money.
He spent some time painting his room. He got a mattress too. Everything was getting better at home. Joaquin was happier than he expected when he arrived.
Then one night he listened to people yelling and fighting in the first floor. He woke up and he was scared but he went out of his room. He was walking down the stairs when a hand caught his arm. His heart almost leaped out of his mouth. It was Pavle and he was telling Joaquin to not go down. He didn’t say anything, only spoke with his hands and face. He made Joaquin understand that it was very dangerous.
They came back to the Pavle’s room where Beth was waiting. She explained to Joaquin that the Arabic people who were living downstairs were drug dealers and they had two or three fights per month. After a silence, Pavle and Joaquin went down together.
They found one Arabic on the floor moaning. His blood covered the floor. Pavle took a t-shirt from the floor and put it over the injury. Joaquin was shocked. He had never seen anything like this. His eyes saw everything and everything was red. He felt dizzy, weak. He wanted to go out of that room but his feet were frozen. Then Pavle yelled his name and Joaquin got stronger. They both took the Arabic guy and drove him to the hospital. Someone had stabbed him.
That night Joaquin couldn’t sleep. He stayed awake watching the door. He was too scared to close his eyes. He had a date with Cristina the next day but he called her to cancel it. He didn’t tell her anything about the fight and the stabbing. He didn’t want her to worry about him. He knew if he told her, she would want him to go back to Spain and he didn’t want to.
Some days later everything came back the normal. The Arabs came back to the house and they kept dealing. Joaquin wasn’t scared, but he never forgot. The arabs never came up to his floor. They were only on the first floor and they kept all their problems there.
During this time Joaquin couldn’t meet Cristina often because he was so busy selling cigarettes or cleaning the house. But when he met her, he felt really happy and he forgot all his hard times. This worked for a while, but then he realized most of the times, they met they argued. He didn’t understand why she was always upset. He tried everything but he couldn’t do anything. She wanted to argue for every small and stupid thing and he felt he was losing her. He didn’t know what she thought, what she wanted, but he wanted her. She was the most important thing in his life.
Then their anniversary arrived. They had spent one year together. The best year of his life, Joaquin thought. He wanted to do something special and she wanted to as well. They went to Dover. A city three hours from London by train. They were excited. She paid for the hotel because Joaquin didn’t have enough money but he had a surprise for her.
They went to Dover castle, an amazing huge castle. They needed a five hours guide tour to see the whole castle. They had lunch and dinner in different restaurants and they spent a great time together. They didn’t argue. Joaquin was so happy; he couldn’t believe there was so much happiness in the world.
Night came and it was time for the surprise. Joaquin had saved some money selling cigarettes and it was the time to give her the presents. He had bought three gifts, but the two firsts were a diversion. They were two stupid things and she looked disappointed. That was what he wanted. When she was down, it was the time to the third present.
It was a silver necklace with an engraving: “I want this every year.” Her face was full of happiness. She cried, and he cried hugging each other. They had spent one year together, a good one. The fights in the last days weren’t enough to make their love die, he thought. They cried together, and they slept.
They spent the second day walking on the beach like two new lovers, eating in restaurants, flirting with each other. When the night was near they came back to London. They came back to real life. They left behind those two idyllic days. She came back to her studies, and he came back to sell cigarettes illegally but he would never forget those days. “I want this every year,” he repeated to himself.
One month passed and the fights came back. Joaquin didn’t understand why she fought, but everything he did, he did badly in her eyes. The moment had arrived; Cristina split up with him. He did his best to convince her not to, but she had made her decision. It was the worst moment in his life. Harder than living like a squatter, than seeing that guy on the floor covered with blood, than selling cigarettes in the freezing London weather.
He didn’t know how react. The first days he was like a stone: he didn’t cry, he didn’t laugh, he didn’t do anything. He only left to sell cigarettes; then he stayed at home sitting on his bed. Sometimes he forgot meals. Sometimes he forgot to sleep. Sometimes he slept thinking it was night, but it wasn’t. Sometimes he slept praying it wasn’t real, but it was. Sometimes he was so tired that he didn’t realize he was awake. Sometimes he was standing up but he was sleeping. Sometimes he was so tired he fell to sleep on the floor. Sometimes he was so tired he couldn’t sleep. He looked like a zombie. But one day for no special reason, he came back.
It was one week before Cristina’s birthday and Joaquin had decided to do something for her. She had left him fifteen days ago but he loved her so much he wanted to do something special for her. He called her and they met.
That week Joaquin went all over London looking for something special for her, something he knew she would love.
Cristina’s birthday arrived. He went to her house to have dinner and they spent a good time together. He was as smart as when he met her the first time and she loved him. It looked as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend but they were not. Then he gave her the presents. There were three. The first one was a huge tiger plush toy, a character from Winnie the Pooh cartoons. He remembered how she loved Tigger from when she was a child.
The second present was a film: “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape”. A movie that she had always wanted and she couldn’t find in Spain. Joaquin remembered it and he found it at an HMV store. She was so excited that she asked him if he wanted to watch the movie with her that night, but he reminded her she had another appointment and she should go.
The third and last present was a box of her favorite chocolates. It looked like what every boyfriend gives to his girlfriend. But these chocolates were more expensive than the two first presents together.
She couldn’t keep back her tears. She cried and he felt bad. He gave her those presents knowing they were special things for her and that he was trying to get her back. He felt he shouldn’t have done that. He hugged her and cried too. It was the first time he had hugged her in almost one month. He remembered again everything that had happened that year together. The only thing he could think was “Why.” Why did she split up if they were so happy together. He couldn’t think of anything bad he had done to her. “Why.” He felt so much love in that hug. He felt so much love between them. “Why.” He didn’t understand why and that made him frustrated, annoyed and furious, but she had made a decision and he couldn’t change her mind. He felt helpless.
He didn’t know why but he remembered that night in the dark London streets. He felt the same panic. He felt he wanted to die. He felt that life was a dark street, a cold street with no Cristina.
After that night nothing was the same between them. She started to argue again for no reason, and all at once he couldn’t endure it, and he answered her cruelly. Since then she would not speak to him again. He fell in a dark depression and he composed a song that she would never hear. This is the song:
From the first time that I met you I've always tried to satisfy you
You were showed to me like an angel, beyond my imagination
You made me happy; you brought me to the top of heaven
You were, you were, you already are
You should have stayed
You should have stayed
I know I'm the man of your life and you're the woman of mine
But how can I explain this to you, if you don’t speak with me anymore
If between us there is a sea, there is a sky because we don’t forgive
Every pain that we felt and we start to argue again
I would like to see you again, swimming across this large sea
I would like to be a hawk to fly fast to your shore
I would like us to forgive every pain that we feel
I would like to be your friend and see you smile at me again
Since you left I cannot breathe; there is no more light for me
Now I'm hide, I'm a shit, no one sees it because they don’t know
What is lost, the real love knowing it can’t be repeated
You were, you were, you already are
You should have to stay
I should be yours; you should be mine, forever and ever and always forgive
I should be yours; you should be mine, always happy together at last
I should be yours; you should be mine, forever and ever and always forgive
I should be yours; you should be mine, always happy together at last
He sang this song in the Underground in London to get money for a while but one night he decided to leave everything and never come back to the dark London streets. That night he slept and left for Madrid the next morning.
