José Antonio Galloso. Born in Lima on February 4, 1972. He is a writer, photographer and teacher. He has published a book of poetry If you're running in, (Editorial White Fang, 1998) for which he received a distinction in the national contest "The Young Poet of Peru" (1995). In 2000 young adult novel published three days for Matthew, (Alfaguara). In collaboration with the Chilean artist Franz Fischer, published a book of poetry experimental cuts memory or the book of the shadow, (Bizarro Editions, 2007). The same year he published the novel The bad trip (Alfaguara). Some of his texts appear in the anthology slapping a corpse (Bizarro Editions, 2007) and in the bad grade, the school in the Peruvian story (Alfaguara, 2008). In May 2009 his third novel will appear under the Alfaguara imprint. Several of his stories, poems, newspaper articles and photographs have been published in the newspaper Milenio of Mexico in other print media, and network. Since March 2002, José Antonio lives in San Francisco, California. This story is part of the unpublished book "Bad Lima. In the next line appears both as a writer's blog page where it appears other passion of José Antonio, photography. Blog: http://joseantoniogalloso.blogspot.com/
Photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jag72/
LIKE A QUEEN
off the bus and started walking through the dusty streets of his neighborhood. The evening was coming upon the city. The gray sky darkened over the line of the nearby hills. He wore a paper bag in his arms. Progressed slowly, as if his mind was trapped in remote areas. Stopped at a pay phone, placed the bag between his feet, took a quarter from his back pocket, put it in the metal slot and dialed a number.
- Hello? "He recognized the fake voice through the headset.
- Shirley? He asked and could not pretend to own. It was almost a natural act.
"Yes, who is speaking?
-La Reina.
- Ay! Look at this crazy, where have you been into, hey?
I do not know, I got mad.
- why they send you to move without warning!, Ungrateful! Shirley
"Excuse me, not on purpose.
- crazy bitch! You had me extremely worried. I thought something had happened.
"Sorry.
"But how are you, tell me!, Tell me!
"I was a little wrong, but I'm better.
- Do you have something?
"No," he said after a second of silence.
- Really?, Are you sure?
"Oh, dear," he said trying to fake a good mood, "who is sure of anything these days?
- And where did you go?
"Not too far from your home, why not join up the address?
- Now yes, no, ungrateful?
"I told you I'm sorry.
"A little while, I go for a pen.
-Fast that I run out of money.
"Yeah, ready. Come on, tell me.
He gave the address.
"But really you all right?
"Yes, I swear.
I do not know why I do not believe, have a dead voice.
"Truly, Shirley, all is well.
- Do not want to go to your house now?, Behold, I come out to play.
"No," he said, "I can not tonight, I have plans, but why do not you come tomorrow.
"Tomorrow, what when?
"As to the six p.m. would be nice.
- Are you sure you're okay? "If
girlfriend, do not worry.
-I love you.
The line went dead. Hung up. Picked up a tear slowly slid down her cheek to his chin and fell on the ground. He wiped his face with one hand, picked up the paper bag and returned to the passage through the neighborhood streets. The houses went on in silence. There were no people passing by the dirt track. From time to time he passed one or another passerby, like everyone else, could not avoid looking at him askance. He had always been, everyone had to look at. The lights on the poles are ignited. He stopped before a door, took a bunch of keys from his pocket and went to a very small house. The heavy canvas curtains were closed. A thick wooden chariot holding the corrugated roof. The place was submerged in the shadows but not switched on the light. It smelled of cigarette smoke and dust clinging en los muebles, en la ropa, en las paredes. Colocó la bolsa sobre la mesa y se dejó caer sobre el único sillón. Estaba sumamente flaco. Las extremidades largas y huesudas se estiraban como patas de araña. El pelo largo y negro le cubría la mitad del rostro e intensificaba las facciones de la parte descubierta. El pómulo salido, la piel oscura, la ceja depilada hasta quedar convertida en una línea negra que todos los días tenía que volver a pintar sobre los huesos toscos de la frente. Metió la mano al bolsillo del pantalón, extrajo una cajetilla de cigarros, la abrió, sacó uno y lo encendió. La flama del encendedor reveló la profunda oscuridad contenida en su mirada. El vacío y la tristeza parecían living in each of his movements. The flame also revealed, those long-fingered hands and crooked. Smoked patiently, staring at the ceiling.
- Hello? "He recognized the fake voice through the headset.
- Shirley? He asked and could not pretend to own. It was almost a natural act.
"Yes, who is speaking?
-La Reina.
- Ay! Look at this crazy, where have you been into, hey?
I do not know, I got mad.
- why they send you to move without warning!, Ungrateful! Shirley
"Excuse me, not on purpose.
- crazy bitch! You had me extremely worried. I thought something had happened.
"Sorry.
"But how are you, tell me!, Tell me!
"I was a little wrong, but I'm better.
- Do you have something?
"No," he said after a second of silence.
- Really?, Are you sure?
"Oh, dear," he said trying to fake a good mood, "who is sure of anything these days?
- And where did you go?
"Not too far from your home, why not join up the address?
- Now yes, no, ungrateful?
"I told you I'm sorry.
"A little while, I go for a pen.
-Fast that I run out of money.
"Yeah, ready. Come on, tell me.
He gave the address.
"But really you all right?
"Yes, I swear.
I do not know why I do not believe, have a dead voice.
"Truly, Shirley, all is well.
- Do not want to go to your house now?, Behold, I come out to play.
"No," he said, "I can not tonight, I have plans, but why do not you come tomorrow.
"Tomorrow, what when?
"As to the six p.m. would be nice.
- Are you sure you're okay? "If
girlfriend, do not worry.
-I love you.
The line went dead. Hung up. Picked up a tear slowly slid down her cheek to his chin and fell on the ground. He wiped his face with one hand, picked up the paper bag and returned to the passage through the neighborhood streets. The houses went on in silence. There were no people passing by the dirt track. From time to time he passed one or another passerby, like everyone else, could not avoid looking at him askance. He had always been, everyone had to look at. The lights on the poles are ignited. He stopped before a door, took a bunch of keys from his pocket and went to a very small house. The heavy canvas curtains were closed. A thick wooden chariot holding the corrugated roof. The place was submerged in the shadows but not switched on the light. It smelled of cigarette smoke and dust clinging en los muebles, en la ropa, en las paredes. Colocó la bolsa sobre la mesa y se dejó caer sobre el único sillón. Estaba sumamente flaco. Las extremidades largas y huesudas se estiraban como patas de araña. El pelo largo y negro le cubría la mitad del rostro e intensificaba las facciones de la parte descubierta. El pómulo salido, la piel oscura, la ceja depilada hasta quedar convertida en una línea negra que todos los días tenía que volver a pintar sobre los huesos toscos de la frente. Metió la mano al bolsillo del pantalón, extrajo una cajetilla de cigarros, la abrió, sacó uno y lo encendió. La flama del encendedor reveló la profunda oscuridad contenida en su mirada. El vacío y la tristeza parecían living in each of his movements. The flame also revealed, those long-fingered hands and crooked. Smoked patiently, staring at the ceiling.
* * * Growing
had been tough. Each year had been a century of constant pain and to repair, gradual discovery of the appalling truth would be his only happiness and his cross. Every year ending in that house at that school, as if born to not ever see the light of day. Never knew that was not otherwise be known that different from teeny expected when left alone to dress in a hurry with her mother's clothes. Fast and afraid, but eager to look in the mirror and feel happy for a second because then came the great fear that forced him to undress and leave everything as it was. The big fear was his father's house, a dark shadow smelling of alcohol and yell and blow. Because the man had a duty to correct and edit had to give blows. But with his father Ernesto could not, even though he had been beaten up hard and tiring, never could fix it. Ernesto was born broken, twisted. It just happened so crooked from the start, been forever. As much as I tried I could not hide, jump to light when the streets ran with his brothers, when no le salía ni una miserable jugada en la cancha de fútbol, cuando prefería mil veces jugar al vóley con las chicas o sentarse en la vereda con las rodillas juntas, juntísimas.
* * *
Se adelantó un poco hasta quedar sentado al borde del sillón, dejó el cigarro colgando entre los labios, tomó la bolsa de papel, extrajo una caja, la apoyó sobre los muslos, la abrió y sacó una botella de güisqui Swing. La observó un rato entre sus manos, la colocó sobre la mesita y con un leve golpe activó el movimiento pendular. Le había costado un ojo de la cara pero no era para menos, la ocasión así lo ameritaba. He stared at the bottle and for a moment all was the sound of that glass fro bouncing off the walls. He got up, took the bottle from the beak, went to the kitchen, threw ice cubes into a glass and filled to the brim. The kitchen was filthy. The plates stuck together with dried food and the toilet overflowed. The vessels used and the pots filled the shelves. He took a long sip dry. He focused on the wood flavor, smell of old whiskey. With glass in hand went to the bathroom. The shower floor was covered with mold. He threw what was left of the cigarette in the toilet and took another drink before you start to undress. Its very skinny and naked body leaving exposed the ugliness of the body impossible. To drink again. The mirror above the sink was broken. He avoided meeting her fragmented reflection. He entered the shower and, with his arms folded and eyes closed, let cold water run over your body.
* * *
The first explosions were heard at ten o'clock. His brothers and his parents were finishing arranged to go to the plaza. Ernesto was lying in bed, covered with blankets to the head. You will not!, Had told his father at breakfast, I do not want embarrassment, this is a decent party! But old, his mother tried to intervene. But nothing!, He stays home to care for the period. He heard the door close. It was the first time that forbade him to go with them to the feast of the patron Saint Joseph. Surely his father had not been able to forget the party last year, when, after drinking some beers, Henry, with his fourteen years confused, had begun to dance like crazy, as if nobody was watching, had lost the composure he had always tried to maintain, and his father, who was as drunk as everyone pulled him tightly by the arm, slapped tremendous and sent him home for good. He waited a few minutes to make sure that it would not return, dried her tears, was uncovered, stood up, went to the room and turned on the old black and white TV. Spent the whole afternoon watching Mexican soap operas while suffering when listening to music, laughter, explosions of the rockets in the square. And, as always, he was alone, away from all displaced. Had tried many times to change, to start his heart that truth which meant shame, sin, darkness. Many times he had sworn he was going to carry like a man, I would get a girlfriend and was going to stop being what was inevitable. But it had always been useless, despite the long hours of prayer, supplication desperate: Please dear God, please let me wake up to be like my brothers, as my father, do not re-look at men with these eyes that hurt me in the soul. But nothing happened. Each day he rose still more than ever that no one wanted him, even him. He fell asleep watching TV, curled up on itself.
The sound of the bell, followed by a series of insistent knocks on the door woke him. He opened his eyes and stood up. It was night. He approached the door and looked out the porthole. Edson was his cousin.
- What? "I asked opening the door.
"Nothing, nothing.
- Is everything all right?
"Yes. Entered
staggered to be dropped on the couch. His eyes were red and had difficulty stare. Edson was 19 and was the favorite nephew of his father. He played football in the neighborhood team as center and already had two years as the scorer of the team. He was tall, strong features, his face cut in sharp angles, with almond-shaped brown eyes, black hair, straight and shoulder-length, body slim, athletic young athletes. All the neighborhood girls would die for him.
- Hungry? "I asked.
"Yes.
Enrique got up and went to the kitchen to prepare something to eat. He found a loaf of bread and a couple eggs. He took the pan and put it on the stove, lit it and threw a little oil. Edson closed his eyes and dropped his head back. Henry could not take your eyes off while frying eggs. He had always liked. Every time there was a game, he was the first to be ready to go to court. His father and his brothers thought it was because he liked football, but that was not true, he went to see Edson, to see him run on the dirt court, sweaty, wet hair with the blue shorts that left exposed those powerful thighs to shrink after every stride. He took a knife, took the eggs from the pan and placed on a plate with a loaf of bread. He turned off the burner and remove pan from heat.
"Here, it's all there was. Edson
opened his eyes, sat up with effort and took the plate.
"I hope you like it.
She sat beside him and watched in silence as he devoured the food like a wild animal. The liquid yolk, yellow and warm, it trickled between the fingers licked with relish. He chewed with his mouth open producing a series of sounds in any of his brothers would have produced disgust, but his cousin before him, everything was different. After eating, Edson left the dish on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch. He smelled of beer, sweat dense in the square dance. The shirt was wet, tight to the chest, breathing sounded very strong, his chest rose and fell. Suddenly, an arcade him convulse the body, stood a single impulse and ran to the bathroom. Ernesto was behind him.
- Need Help? "I asked but got no response. He was kneeling with his head on the toilet. Ernesto came to help. He bent, one hand held her face and the other grabbed his stomach. Easy, easy, "he said," you have to throw away all the alcohol, then you'll feel better, "The hand that held the front began to stroke it possessed by a force greater than any will.
The sound of the bell, followed by a series of insistent knocks on the door woke him. He opened his eyes and stood up. It was night. He approached the door and looked out the porthole. Edson was his cousin.
- What? "I asked opening the door.
"Nothing, nothing.
- Is everything all right?
"Yes. Entered
staggered to be dropped on the couch. His eyes were red and had difficulty stare. Edson was 19 and was the favorite nephew of his father. He played football in the neighborhood team as center and already had two years as the scorer of the team. He was tall, strong features, his face cut in sharp angles, with almond-shaped brown eyes, black hair, straight and shoulder-length, body slim, athletic young athletes. All the neighborhood girls would die for him.
- Hungry? "I asked.
"Yes.
Enrique got up and went to the kitchen to prepare something to eat. He found a loaf of bread and a couple eggs. He took the pan and put it on the stove, lit it and threw a little oil. Edson closed his eyes and dropped his head back. Henry could not take your eyes off while frying eggs. He had always liked. Every time there was a game, he was the first to be ready to go to court. His father and his brothers thought it was because he liked football, but that was not true, he went to see Edson, to see him run on the dirt court, sweaty, wet hair with the blue shorts that left exposed those powerful thighs to shrink after every stride. He took a knife, took the eggs from the pan and placed on a plate with a loaf of bread. He turned off the burner and remove pan from heat.
"Here, it's all there was. Edson
opened his eyes, sat up with effort and took the plate.
"I hope you like it.
She sat beside him and watched in silence as he devoured the food like a wild animal. The liquid yolk, yellow and warm, it trickled between the fingers licked with relish. He chewed with his mouth open producing a series of sounds in any of his brothers would have produced disgust, but his cousin before him, everything was different. After eating, Edson left the dish on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch. He smelled of beer, sweat dense in the square dance. The shirt was wet, tight to the chest, breathing sounded very strong, his chest rose and fell. Suddenly, an arcade him convulse the body, stood a single impulse and ran to the bathroom. Ernesto was behind him.
- Need Help? "I asked but got no response. He was kneeling with his head on the toilet. Ernesto came to help. He bent, one hand held her face and the other grabbed his stomach. Easy, easy, "he said," you have to throw away all the alcohol, then you'll feel better, "The hand that held the front began to stroke it possessed by a force greater than any will.
* * *
Like a queen and the devil all was said and opened his eyes. Took a sponge, he took a special shampoo for skin and began to rub the body with both hands, slowly, chest, legs, eyes closed, slowly, neck, neck, slowly, he imagined that was in a very elegant bathroom, white, was a very clear vision, a white bathroom, a large white tub, large shower white, very white, he imagined that place away from decaying, stinking in which he was caught, it was rewarding to feel running water, water all so clean, as clean sponge, eyes closed, everything clean, and hands, both hands on his chest, on legs, sex, slowly, over and over again, slowly, about sex again, again, and the bodies began to appear capricious fire in the mind, and water and sponge, and tongues of fire, and the hands of fire, and fire that man impossible to forget, all man was only at that moment, everything was just the man, eyes closed, mind, the sponge, the visions of those sweaty bodies, and water, and hands, and sex, it was all sex, everything was white sex until the end, it was all just Edson in memory, everything was just fire. Opened eyes and found himself, horrible and forgotten, from the world. He took a bottle of shaving cream, shook it and rubbed it over his skin gray, ill. Then he took a razor and began the process repeated a thousand times to shave his entire body.
* * *
Edson finished vomiting. His shirt and pants were stained, smelling of bile, ethyl ferments. Ernesto knew they were alone, accompanied by the voices coming from the room in black and white, by the explosions of the rockets, the music square weak as a whisper told her obscure that nobody would soon. Edson leaned against the tub.
"Relax," he said, the chain pulled the toilet and wiped the floor with toilet paper. Then he got carried away by impulses. Every movement was natural arising from the center of your heart racing. Look at you, "he said, shame on you, either look like a drunk, do not want my mother finds you well. You better take a shower and change yourself.
"No, let me," said Edson.
-Easy, easy, 'said Ernest, "is not going to happen. Let me help me I can give you clothes. Come on, get up, stand up. Asu male, you're very heavy. Come on, help me a bit. So, that is-began to unbutton shirt, button by button, very slowly. The chest was left bare, dark skin, young and defined muscles. I had some hesitation before executing every move, thought he might react badly Edson, along a single slap violent and offended, but nothing happened. His cousin was very quiet, with eyes closed was allowed to remove the shirt. Ernesto did not say anything when bent and after unzipping jean button to download it began slowly. His heart went out of the chest, had never before been so close to a man, never before had taken the desire so excessive force.
- What are you doing? Edson muttered.
"Relax, cousin, a bath is going to fall very well. Come sit here.
obeyed and sat on the toilet. Ernesto put the stopper in the tub, opened the hot water tap and was the fourth of his brothers to find some clothes that you could provide. He was anxious, dominated by a series of strange emotions, intense, maddening. He returned to the bathroom, dropped the clothes on the floor, closed the tap and hand proved that water was not too hot.
-Ready, cousin, now take off your underwear and get in the water.
All proportions are left to see the naked body lying under the water. Unable to control himself, took a sponge and began rubbing the copper skin.
- What are you doing? Edson asked, "Are you crazy?
Ernesto paused for a moment, I expected Edson asked him to leave, let him alone, but did not. By contrast, closed his eyes and relaxed completely. Slowly, he replaced the sponge on his bare chest, barely touched the skin. The presentiment of something dark to light while seething inside. Could not control the instinct, I could not stop. After all, Edson was not refusing to touch, after all, he kept his eyes closed, as not wanting to see, or perhaps, as trying to imagine scenes distant. Nothing existed in the world, only letting Edson play, only the certainty of knowing fully, closer than ever to himself with a terrible desire to look in the mirror and burst into laughter full of joy. Then, after everything was over, while his cousin slept very quietly in the bed of his brother and he watched from the doorway, Ernesto had a clear assurance that there would be no turning back. The radiant dark journey of his life, the only begun.
"Relax," he said, the chain pulled the toilet and wiped the floor with toilet paper. Then he got carried away by impulses. Every movement was natural arising from the center of your heart racing. Look at you, "he said, shame on you, either look like a drunk, do not want my mother finds you well. You better take a shower and change yourself.
"No, let me," said Edson.
-Easy, easy, 'said Ernest, "is not going to happen. Let me help me I can give you clothes. Come on, get up, stand up. Asu male, you're very heavy. Come on, help me a bit. So, that is-began to unbutton shirt, button by button, very slowly. The chest was left bare, dark skin, young and defined muscles. I had some hesitation before executing every move, thought he might react badly Edson, along a single slap violent and offended, but nothing happened. His cousin was very quiet, with eyes closed was allowed to remove the shirt. Ernesto did not say anything when bent and after unzipping jean button to download it began slowly. His heart went out of the chest, had never before been so close to a man, never before had taken the desire so excessive force.
- What are you doing? Edson muttered.
"Relax, cousin, a bath is going to fall very well. Come sit here.
obeyed and sat on the toilet. Ernesto put the stopper in the tub, opened the hot water tap and was the fourth of his brothers to find some clothes that you could provide. He was anxious, dominated by a series of strange emotions, intense, maddening. He returned to the bathroom, dropped the clothes on the floor, closed the tap and hand proved that water was not too hot.
-Ready, cousin, now take off your underwear and get in the water.
All proportions are left to see the naked body lying under the water. Unable to control himself, took a sponge and began rubbing the copper skin.
- What are you doing? Edson asked, "Are you crazy?
Ernesto paused for a moment, I expected Edson asked him to leave, let him alone, but did not. By contrast, closed his eyes and relaxed completely. Slowly, he replaced the sponge on his bare chest, barely touched the skin. The presentiment of something dark to light while seething inside. Could not control the instinct, I could not stop. After all, Edson was not refusing to touch, after all, he kept his eyes closed, as not wanting to see, or perhaps, as trying to imagine scenes distant. Nothing existed in the world, only letting Edson play, only the certainty of knowing fully, closer than ever to himself with a terrible desire to look in the mirror and burst into laughter full of joy. Then, after everything was over, while his cousin slept very quietly in the bed of his brother and he watched from the doorway, Ernesto had a clear assurance that there would be no turning back. The radiant dark journey of his life, the only begun.
* * *
bath is finished, turn off the spigot, wrapped in a white terry robe, took the glass whiskey and dried in one gulp. Went to the kitchen, took the bottle and went to his room. On the light, put the bottle and glass on the bedside table, sat on the edge of the bed, opened a drawer and pulled out a rectangular case in which he kept all his makeup. He refilled his glass. He lit another cigarette. After the first set, a dry cough and forced him to hang metal chest with both hands to try to ease the pain. Gave up cigarettes in the ashtray that sat on the bedside table, opened the box, took out a jar of cream and applied it with great patience in the arms and legs. Then pulled out a bottle of nail polish polish and a cotton bag. White ball placed paths between thin toes and twisted, shook hard on the little squirt, opened it and slowly began to cover the nail with red enamel fire that he loved.
* * *
Edson
for two years was his lover. The first man in her life. The only thing that bothered him was that Ernesto was just going to him whenever he was drunk. There was no way for something to happen in the field of sobriety, not even looking at him straight in the eye, indeed, treated him with indifference, or worse, as if nothing else was happening between them. But when got drunk everything changed. Ernesto had already established the relationship between alcohol and sex, and no sooner saw him uncorking the bottle early, his heart began to secrete substances celestial desire. I knew then it would be possible to pat the athletic body with which both dreamed. He was in love, completely mad. He wrote his name in the final pages of his notebooks and decorated with hearts and flowers. He wrote long letters of love that kept jealously under the mattress of the bed. How happy he felt. It meant no more than that overwhelming love that, deep down, I knew he would never be reciprocated. He took to the crumbs which gave Edson when I was drunk enough to pretend not to notice what he was doing. And their secret meetings and poachers, were gaining in boldness until he arrived that evening dark July. Ernesto entered the house after a day of school and found her parents sitting in the room. She cried uncontrollably and he was holding in his hands the love letters he had written to Edson. I bounced like a dog. He said he grabbed his things and get out. I completely erased from his memory. Her mother could do nothing if not mourn and mourn. He said he was ashamed of it, if I could kill him but did not want to end up in jail. Beat him to get tired. Ernesto did not say anything. Ni even cry. He put his clothes in a backpack and left.
* * *
finish painting the toenails and the hands. He drank and refilled the glass. He lay in bed and wait for the polish to dry. The effect of alcohol began to take the body with that quiet inexplicable. He lit another cigarette. The next night's silence was increasing in the mind. He coughed. Took the ashtray and put it on her belly. He thought of his family, ten years ago and had not spoken to them or see them, except for those days when you had that nostalgia back to the neighborhood. Then, watching his house from the corner, nervous hidden behind the makeup, the wig and huge sunglasses. Sometimes it was a long time standing, looking forward to his mother out toward the market. How I gave him time to run to her, hold her, but never did. Long puffed and lashed back pain. He wondered, as he had done many times, if your father would have regretted having missed the house with just fifteen years. I knew that it was most likely not, but he liked to think so, he regretted that when she was just assaulted him with remorse. Drank. It also asked again, how the hell would have explained his sudden disappearance. His father was too macho to accept before the rest of the family who had a son queer. Will I be killed?, Will I be sent to a distant country?, What lies have invented? And, my brothers, how have endured everything that happened?, Do you even remember, or does and I have completely erased their memories? And Edson, Like you have gone to Edson?, Does my father have done something against them or be forgiven for being the scorer of the neighborhood? Smoked. As important, he said, nothing matters, my only family is Shirley. She will handle everything, as usual.
* * *
I curse!, You're dead to me! Were the last words he heard from his father before his door was closed forever. Alone, desperate and not knowing what to do, wandered the streets of the neighborhood. He thought of jumping under the wheels of the first bus to pass by the road. He thought about walking to the first tall building you'll find on your way up to the top floor and jump into the void. Happened several times outside his home. He had a wild desire to knock on the door and beg sorry, but did not have the courage to do so, the fear he had for his father was above all. Ended up sitting in a park near his home. Crying, waiting in vain for his mother in the dark to tell him to return, his father was unrepentant. He took a jacket from his pack, put it, he lay curled on the side of a tree and cried.
He was awakened the bitter cold of dawn Lima. She picked up her backpack and started walking aimlessly. It was then that we turned a corner, saw half of the block to Shirley sweeping the front door:
- What is it? Asked to see him so sad.
"I've been thrown out of my house," he replied.
- What, can not be. Come, spend, spend. Tell me, what happened? Shirley was tall, with skin brunette and blonde hair to his shoulders. I had a hair salon in the living room of his house that catered to all the girls in the neighborhood. He was received with much love from the start. Without hesitation even offered him a place to stay, a bed, a plate of food. Never before had treated him that way. Never before had made her feel so good about yourself.
"One is what it is and let's face it. There is no way around it. The problem is not you, Ernesto, the problem is your parents.
Shirley was more than a friend, a mother. Gladly taught the craft of beauty and art to survive being yourself. It was he who put the Queen as she dyed blond hair.
And wake up every morning with a smile, and live infected by the tremendous desire to live in Shirley and her friends to meet, listen to their stories with music and beer, all similar or worse than yours, it helped a lot in the process to overcome the emotional crisis and the depression caused by rejection. However, happiness does not last long.
He was awakened the bitter cold of dawn Lima. She picked up her backpack and started walking aimlessly. It was then that we turned a corner, saw half of the block to Shirley sweeping the front door:
- What is it? Asked to see him so sad.
"I've been thrown out of my house," he replied.
- What, can not be. Come, spend, spend. Tell me, what happened? Shirley was tall, with skin brunette and blonde hair to his shoulders. I had a hair salon in the living room of his house that catered to all the girls in the neighborhood. He was received with much love from the start. Without hesitation even offered him a place to stay, a bed, a plate of food. Never before had treated him that way. Never before had made her feel so good about yourself.
"One is what it is and let's face it. There is no way around it. The problem is not you, Ernesto, the problem is your parents.
Shirley was more than a friend, a mother. Gladly taught the craft of beauty and art to survive being yourself. It was he who put the Queen as she dyed blond hair.
And wake up every morning with a smile, and live infected by the tremendous desire to live in Shirley and her friends to meet, listen to their stories with music and beer, all similar or worse than yours, it helped a lot in the process to overcome the emotional crisis and the depression caused by rejection. However, happiness does not last long.
* * *
put out the cigarette and stood up. A dresser drawer took all her underwear and threw it on the bed. Chose a set of black lace and put it on. He tucked his penis as only an expert can do a transvestite. She put on her bra and put foam inserts for the buttocks and chest. Every time I started to realize this transformation, something in his body reacted with a subtle and intense pleasure. As he said Agrado in "All About My Mother": One is true to the extent that is as similar as possible to what has been dreamed. How true those words. As Shirley and she enjoyed when they saw the film in a cinema in the center. They laughed and cried with madness. Since that movie became addicted to the cinema of Almodóvar. She looked in the mirror and felt like one of his characters, as Rosi de Palma, yes, and it was ugly but beautiful at the same time. Dried glass of whiskey and turned it to fill. Alcohol softened his reflection, made it more tolerable in its ugliness and decay. He sat on the edge of the bed, took a pair of black nylon stockings and put them on. His life was a drama in the style of Almodóvar, so it could not do anything but behave like a queen, period. He lay in bed and thought of Shirley, which would come the next day. He felt a brief burst of pain crossing the skin. He wondered if his father or brothers have had to do with the misfortune that they were forced to leave the neighborhood.
Poor Shirley, he said. Ernesto
felt he had played with his bloody bad luck, she was wearing because of his father.
That was safe.
* * *
was Saturday. They had been drinking beer and listening to music all afternoon. At midnight they decided to lie down, but no sooner started to sleep a sound of glass breaking them up in the air. Then they heard a series of men's voices coming from the room. Ernesto Shirley got up and went after it. Upon reaching the room found four men in balaclavas and crowbars that were destroying everything in their path. Sissy shit, screaming, people with AIDS the heck, no one wants in this neighborhood!, Get out of here salted goats! Shirley ran to the kitchen for a knife to defend what they had achieved so much work, but one of the guys saw him and testified a very strong blow to the head that left her bleeding and lying on the floor. Ernesto only managed to run towards it and watch it all as he held his head terrified. I could not believe what his eyes were seeing, the hatred displayed by these men, mirrors exploding into a thousand pieces and that gallon jug orange with one of them began to drizzle. Ernesto did not do anything beyond the endless threats. Then came the fire, the tongues of fire devouring the entire life of Shirley, and guilt that was cystic in the heart of Ernesto, though, Shirley, said later that he would be eternally grateful for saving his life.
When firefighters finished extinguishing the flames, there was nothing of the beauty salon, just a series of black fragments falling apart.
When firefighters finished extinguishing the flames, there was nothing of the beauty salon, just a series of black fragments falling apart.
* * *
He put on his red lycra dress, the best he had. She got out her black patent boots, while the set and the tears began to slide down his face expressionless. The confused emotions contained alcohol. She dried her tears, grabbed the box of makeup and began the final process of transformation. The whole face smeared with dark base through which perceived the dusky skin. Drew the eyebrows on the brow bone. False eyelashes hit gently. Painted red lips on fire. He outlined the mouth of Queen beyond the lips. Sheets applied on the cheekbones come out and closed the case. He stood up and looked in the mirror. So was she, The Queen, the only, true. Ernesto was someone who did not know, a dark history of the past, a terrible mistake that had led through mazes harmful. The only culprit.
* * *
took refuge at the home of The Devil, one of the friends of Shirley. Then Ernesto knew the true face of the night, there where Shirley had begun her dream salon. Sad corner of Avenida Arequipa, the Javier Prado, Canada. Those long nights waiting for customers, he soon discovered, were of all kinds. Young, old, drunk, stoner, rich, poor. He realized then that it was a freak, there was a lot men carrying the double life of the city. Married respectable family men who were waiting late at night to go with the dark side of desire. At first it was very strange, a strange act of exchange sex for money, pain, disgust. Rarely pleasure of a handsome man, but the money came in and, as Shirley may soon become independent and get out of it. However, Ernesto could never stop feeling guilt, damn fault, and no sooner had raised the money to rent a house in the Northern Cone and start again the beauty salon business, Ernesto, disappeared. She took her stuff and was dragging his bad luck in tow.
* * *
pulled all the clothes of their drawers, took her to the room and threw it on the coffee table. He sat in the chair and tied all knotted nylons strong resistance as checked by hand. He took the bottle of whiskey and drank directly from the peak. She climbed into the chair and tied the middle strip of wooden chariot holding the corrugated roof. Shirley would come the next day. He took the lighter, lit a cigarette and burned their clothes. Shirley is responsible for everything. She would know understand. She was the only one able to understand. He ended up smoking before the fire was beginning to run on the carpet, took the chair, tied one end of the half round neck, with an unrestrained smile on his face and said goodbye to Ernesto as a Queen, he jumped.
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