THE STEPS
Luz E Macias
The elevator door closed. His steps resounded through the hallway. On the far side of the only room we were staying in, the Toccatas were playing ...One, Two. One, Two, and the persecutor drew closer. I got up in silence and looked through the peep hole. I could only make out the light of the hallway, and the sound of a doorbell off in the distance. I noticed that the curtain was half open in one of the windows. I jumped over Miguel and closed it. That was where the fire escape was located, the great avenue below. I carried all this off quickly enough to return to him, waiting for me in his seventh ecstasy, ready for me to ride him some more and travel from cloud to cloud. The storm would come any minute. I wouldn't be surprised. I would have enough time to live out our last meeting together.
�Are you there?� , asked Miguel.
�Yes, here I am, I'm on my way. Let me lock the door and close the windows .� The sun had gone down its last stretch. "Time was all ours. No one would come to bother us now. "
�I don't think they'd come up here. Who knows about this place?�
�Only you and I, nobody else�, I answered, leaving no room for suspicion.
�How many days have I been shut in here? I think I'm awake. I've lived through a nightmare. What have you given me to drink? What did you make inhale? I give you back my gaze. You're naked and I feel that you were always inside me. Your face and body have been a part of me. I've discovered that we've been two persons in one since we were children. You remember when we ran through the muddy streets of the neighborhood, or was it yesterday that I met you?�
�No, it's only been three days. You saw me as beautiful and invited me to accompany you. I was charmed. You wanted to tell the story of your life and I closed your mouth with kisses, and we made love night and day .�
�Do you want to know who I am?�
�Why? It's enough to be together, to live out the most absurd things, to find ourselves in our bodies. What's it worth knowing who I am, or who you are, if in the end were beings that travel in different dimensions. We'll be together a few hours; we'll be able to invent ourselves for a few minutes.�
�We'll be seeing each other every day. Right now I have to go. I have a family.�
�I have nothing, only this moment I'm living; why do you bring me back to this absurd reality? Why do you wake me up, and obligate me to see this magnetic tape that passes before my eyes. I hear the steps in the hallway. They come closer. The tap of his boots falls like notes in a piano dadadadaaaa. I know he's at the second door, after the elevator. I hear his voice: It's the police. "Do you know this woman? " She checked into this motel on Thursday afternoon. There's a man with her. It's urgent that we find her. The woman answers that she doesn't know me. I imagine the policeman showing a withered photo. Now Im someone else; I've changed and I've been able to make a fool out of them. I've always come out alive, escaping that insistent hand that unceasingly looks for me at night. My current name is Elena.�
�What's up? You've become silent. Are you worried about me going? There's something I want to know about you; how many men have you brought here?�
�You brought me, you've forgotten ...your arms are muscular, your stomach is fibrous, your white, rocky legs tighten up when they caress me. I like seeing you naked, to take your portrait with my coffee colored eyes. Let me turn you into a god with my gaze, so I can see myself in you. Let your semen transcend my tunnel, in order to take you along the steep and narrow climb of my mouth. I want to seat you on my throne of clay and lubricate you, and together, we can get to the god whose door is open in this very instant. That way, I can love you without knowing who you are. No one can yank you from my hands. I go back to listening to the steps, at about nine feet from my door. One more door opens, another woman looks at the photo. `No, sir, I don't know her. Is she dangerous? Tell me who she is.�
I hear the policemans voice. He says hes after me, and wants to save Miguel, that I'm Elena now, and was Gabriela last week, and that... I laughed at that stupid woman who lives next door and fears for her life, ignoring that I'm here to feed those men who are avid for women. I turn my face to Miguel, and ask if hes heard about me before, if he recognizes me when I introduce my tongue into his mouth and it slowly slides in, until blocking his epiglottis.
Now, I'm tangling my hair around his neck while making love to him. If he�s drank forgetfulness in the anise of my body, he'll know in the right moment who I am. And of course, who he's loved, in seconds. The door closes and I continue to braid my hair in his throat. His phallus becomes erect, I'm with my god, I'm at the gates of hell, I'm entering heaven. The steps come closer; I've got little time left. I see his eyes get bigger, and redder. Nerves, I say, very close to his ear, when the door rings, you'll know you've been in hell.
You can't leave here because I won't stay here alone. You won't have time to tell everyone who your lover was. You're another one of those who I drag through life.
�Elena, calm down a minute. I know you love me, but I'm here to save you from those who are chasing you. Outside, there's another guy who's looking for you, not in order to make love to you, but to destroy you. Elena, this room is big and has two windows. We can escape through them. Right now, I don't remember exactly where they are, but you should know. The half darkness shuts my eyes. I know the door is off to one side. I hear the steps of my boss. He's come looking for me.�
�Loosen up your hair a little or you'll choke me, loosen it!� I'll take advantage of this moment in order to get out of bed. I can't. A ray of light enters the hole in the door. I make the effort to raise my hand. I look for her in space. My face and body tremble. The monster possessing me howls a high pitched complaint. I can't quite get out of the knot that's closing around my neck. I stretch my legs and sample the air. I seek her even within my lungs. I can't find her. My hands begin to fall, without any strength in them. My face becomes cold, my feet are cramped. Outside, car horns cry the pitiful noise of a day that's ending. It's lament is long. A fresh breeze sneaks into one of the windows. I collapse to the ground. I can only hear the sound of a far off doorbell ringing.
October 26, 1961
Copyright @
From: The Steps: Stories From Heaven & Inferno. (2000)
LOS PASOS
Por Luz E. Macias
Cerr� la puerta del ascensor. Sus pasos resonaban en el pasillo. Al fondo del �nico cuarto donde est�bamos sonaban las Tocatas... un dos, un dos ya se apr�ximaba el perseguidor. Me levant� en silencio y mir� por el ojo de la puerta. S�lo percib� la luz del pasillo y el sonar de un timbre en la lejan�a. Observ� que en una de las ventanas la cortina estaba a medio cubrir. Salt� por encima de Miguel y la cerr�. En ese mismo lugar estaba la escalera de escape en caso de fuego, abajo la gran avenida. Todo lo hice en un instante suficiente como para volver donde �l, que me esperaba en su sexto �xtasis, listo para cabalgarlo y viajar de nube en nube. La tormenta llegar�a en cualquier momento. No me sorprender�a. Tendr�a el tiempo conveniente para vivir con �l el �ltimo encuentro.
-Est�s ah�- , pregunt� Miguel.
-S�, aqu� estoy, ya voy. D�jame ponerle el seguro a la puerta y cerrar la ventana- . El sol hab�a descendido su �ltimo crep�sculo. El tiempo era nuestro. Nadie vendr� ya a fastidiarnos.
-No creo que vengan hasta aqu�. �Qui�n conoce este lugar?
-T� y yo solamente, nadie m�s- , respond� sin dejar espacio para la sospecha.
- �Cu�ntos d�as tengo de estar aqu� encerrado? Creo que estoy despierto. He vivido una pesadilla. �Qu� me has dado a beber? �Qu� me has hecho inhalar? Vuelvo a t� mi mirada. Est�s desnuda y siento que siempre estuviste en m�. Tu rostro y tu cuerpo me han pertenecido. Descubro que desde ni�os somos una sola persona. Recuerdas cuando paseabamos por las calles enlodadas del barrio o fue ayer que te conoc�.
-No, s�lo hace tres d�as. Me viste bella y me invitaste a que te acompa�ara. Yo encantada. Quisiste contarme tu vida y yo te cerr� la boca con besos y nos amamos noche y d�a-.
- �Quieres saber qui�n soy?
- �Para qu�?, basta con estar juntos, experimentar las cosas m�s absurdas, encontrarnos en nuestros cuerpos. Qu� vale saber qui�n soy o qui�n eres si al final somos entes que viajamos por dimensiones diferentes. Ser�n pocas las horas que estaremos juntos. Ser�n pocas las horas que estaremos juntos, ser�n pocos los minutos para inventarnos.
-Nos estaremos viendo cada d�a. Ahora me tengo que ir. Tengo una familia.
-Yo no tengo nada, s�lo este momento que vivo, �para qu� me devuelves a esta realidad absurda? �Por qu� me despiertas y me obligas a ver esta cinta magn�tica que pasa ante mis ojos? Escucho los pasos en el pasillo. Se acercan. El taconeo de sus botas cae como las notas en el piano tatatataaaaaa. S� que est� en la segunda puerta despu�s del ascensor. Escucho su voz: "- Soy agente de la polic�a. �Conoce usted a esta mujer? Entr� a este motel el jueves en la tarde. Hay un hombre con ella. Me urge encontrarla -" . La mujer responde que no me conoce. Ya imagino al agente mostrando una foto ajada. Ahora soy otra; he cambiado y los he podido burlar. Siempre he salido viva escapando a esa mano mordaz que me busca incesante en la noche. Mi nombre actual es Elena.
- �Qu� te pasa? Te has quedado en silencio. �Te preocupa que me vaya? Hay algo que quiero saber de t�. �A cu�ntos hombres has tra�do aqu�?
- Fuiste t� quien me trajiste, te has olvidado.... tus brazos son musculosos, tu abdomen fibroso, tus piernas blancas cementadas se tensan al acariciarme. Me gusta verte desnudo, retratarte con mis ojos caf�s. Perm�teme endiosarte con mi mirada para verme en t�. Deja que tu semen trascienda en mi t�nel para llevarte por la pendiente estrecha de mi boca. Quiero sentarte en mi trono arcilloso para lubricarte y juntos llegar al dios que tiene la puerta abierta en este mismo momento. As� te podr� amar sin saber qui�n eres. Nadie podr� arrebatarte de mis manos- . Vuelvo a escuchar los pasos como a tres metros de mi puerta. Una puerta m�s se abre, otra mujer mira la foto. " -No se�or, no la conozco. �Es peligrosa? D�game qui�n es ella-" . Escucho la voz del agente, dice que viene tras de m�, y que quiere salvar a Miguel, que ahora soy Elena, que la semana pasada era Gabriela, y que... -" me r�o de esa tonta vecina que teme por su vida ignorando que estoy aqu� para alimentar a estos hombres �vidos de mujeres. Vuelvo mi rostro hacia Miguel y le pregunto si alguna vez ha o�do hablar de m�, si me reconoce cuando introduzco mi lengua en su boca que lenta se va deslizando hasta obstruir su ep�glotis. Ahora voy enredando mi pelo en su cuello mientras lo voy amando. Si ha bebido el olvido en el an�s de mi cuerpo ya sabr� en el momento preciso qui�n soy y desde luego a qui�n ha amado segundos. La puerta se cierra y yo sigo trenzando mi pelo en tu garganta. Su falo se erecta, estoy con mi dios, estoy a las puertas del infierno, estoy entrando al cielo. Los pasos se aproximan, es poco el tiempo que me queda. Veo que sus ojos se agigantan y enrojecen. Nerviosa le digo muy cerca al o�do cuando el timbre suene en esta puerta sabr�s que has estado en el infierno, de aqu� no sales porque yo no me quedar� sola. No tendr�s tiempo para contar quien fue tu amante. Eres otro m�s que arrastro por la vida.
-Elena calma tu �mpetu. S� que me amas pero estoy aqu� para salvarte de los que te persiguen. �fuera hay otro hombre como yo que te busca no para amarte, sino para desquiciarte. Elena este cuarto es grande y tiene dos ventanas, por ellas podemos huir. No recuerdo ahora exactamente d�nde est�n, pero t� s� lo sabes. La tiniebla cierra mis ojos, s� que a un lado est� la puerta. Escucho los pasos de mi jefe. El viene a buscarme.
Afloja un poco tu pelo que me ahogas, te digo que aflojes. Aprovechar� este momento para levantarme. No puedo. Un rayo de luz entra por el orificio de la puerta. Levanto con fuerza mi mano. La busco a ella en el espacio. Mi rostro y mi cuerpo tiemblan. El quejido agudo del monstruo que me posee aulla. No logro soltar el nudo que va cerrando mi cuello, estiro mis piernas, tanteo el aire. La busco hasta en mis bronquios. No la encuentro. Mis manos sin fuerza van cayendo, mi cara se va tornando fr�a, mis pies est�n entumecidos. Afuera la bocina de los carros lloran el ruido lastimero de un d�a que se va; es largo su lamento. Un vientecito fresco se cuela por una de las ventanas. Me desplomo. S�lo escucho a lo lejos el sonar de un timbre.
octubre 26,1991
Copyright@
---------
Luz E Mac�as (Colombia, ) narradora, ha publicado Los Pasos cuentos del cielo y del infierno, (2000) y Los fantasmas en el espejo, (2003). Fundadora de la revista literaria La Casa del Hada, desde 1994 y editora de La Cueva de la Sibila. El Hijo Buenitoooo (drama) fue producida por el festival de verano I.A.T.I. New York 1990. Dirigida por Manuel Martin rese�ada por el New York, Newsday y prologada por el dramaturgo mexicano Emilio Carballido. Invitada a la feria del libro de Bogot� 2004 y la feria internacional de Miami 2001. Sus cuentos han sido publicados en varios revistas literarias, peri�dicos y revistas virtuales.