Date: Tue, 16 Oct 2001 07:35:43 -0600 From: Robyn Herrington Organization: University of Calgary Subject: [WRITERS] SUB: CONTEST: Faithful Departed Faithful Departed Journal entry October 6, 2001 The wind has changed and finally has a bit of October bite. Even Luna felt it and came to snuggle against me on the porch, trembling as she purred. I thought she would shake us both apart. Strange thing, when I went back in the radio was crooning "besame mucho," but I don't remember turning it on. Itb s such a cheesy song but Julio always loved it. Journal entry October 8, 2001 What a wonderful lazy weekend, with nowhere I had to be. I even did some very late spring cleaning (so what if its no longer spring) and found the box with all of Juliob s things, all the things I never got to give back to him after we broke up, right there on top of my BarBri review books that I relegated to the back of my closet only three months ago. I hadnb t realized I had brought it with me, I hadnb t meant to. Mami probably packed it, she wanted me to marry Julio, had liked him for me, but then she associates possessive, dominating behavior with love. Julio said heb d never let me go but life gave him no choice. I know it makes me terrible person the relief I felt when I found out about the accident, but his death gave me back my life, my freedom. Journal entry October 11, 2001 Last night when I was in the shower I heard the door to my bedroom open and close, at least I thought I did. I rinsed off quickly, put my robe on and did a thorough check but found nothing, nothing except the lingering scent of roses filtering through the open windows. Someone must have a garden nearby that I haven't noticed. Roses were Juliob s favorite way of apologizing, I still have one, the last one he ever gave me sitting in the box I thought I left behind. Journal entry October 14, 2001 Luna has become quite friendly lately, usually she sits and bathes at a distance. Now she sits in my lap regularly. Today she even stretched up from my lap, paws resting on my shoulders, yellow eyes staring into brown so intently like she wanted to tell me something. Journal entry October 18, 2001 Last night I dreamt of Julio standing over me holding a red rose, looking at me intently the way he always did. It was that look I feel in love with. The look that said only I existed, that I was everything. Who knew that I really was everything, the only thing. Who knew love could be so destructive, a monster in disguise. I know it was just a dream but it felt so real. I even felt when he took the engagement ring out of the carved wooden box and placed it back on my finger. I awoke with a horrible sinking feeling, sitting bolt upright with my hands stretched out before me. They were empty of course. I took the box out of the closet anyway and checked, it creaked as I opened it and Luna, who had come in asking for breakfast, shot out of the room. Everything was still there. It was late and I rushed out of the house and when I got home I found the box in the middle of my perfectly made bed, where I left it, or did I? For the life of me I can't remember. Journal entry October 22, 2001 The Day of the Dead is near, and I feel as if the dead are near too, so does Luna who jumps every time I open a door or rattle a pan. Mami called today, and I asked her about the box. She said she would send it to me if I wanted. I didn't tell her I already have it. What else has followed me here? Journal entry October 26, 2001 Julio visits me nightly, my dreams anyway. Last night we were back at the levy for the last time, our secret place where Julio took me to be alone. We were sitting on the hood of the mustang starring at the lights of Donna to the North with our arms around each other. Julio was talking, telling me how much he needed me while I thought of an excuse for us to leave. Something that would not lead to a fight, that would not arouse his anger, but there was no such topic. I finally suggested renting a movie and felt Julio immediately tense, "Who do you know at Blockbuster?" "Nobody," I replied knowing it was already too late. As we drove back toward the city I told him it was over and then waited but for once nothing came. No anger, no words, but somehow that was worse, and as I opened the door to leave I heard him say under his breath, "I won't let you go." I crept slowly in the house even though all the lights were out and then stopped startled by a figure sitting in a shadowy corner of the kitchen. My mother sat, a cup of tea forgotten in one hand, she looked at me regarding me silently for a moment and then turned away. I went to my room and laid down to cry knowing that no one would help me, that in the eyes of all my family I was as good as married and I would be expected to endure. I cried until I had no more tears and then I felt a calm descend over me. I decided to leave them all that night. Journal entry October 29, 2001 There are signs of Julio everywhere from the ever present smell of roses to the box that won't seem to stay in my closet. I find messages of love written on my bathroom mirror and hear Julio moving around my apartment at night, opening doors and inspecting rooms and I am afraid he is getting comfortable. Journal entry October 30, 2001 Last night I was back with Julio but for once we were not at the levy instead we were in his car driving down military highway. I could feel the engine protest as Julio sifted gears pushing the car to its limits, for once punishing something other than me. The car was roaring down the road as we came up to the curve near PeC1itas. As the car began to loose control, Juliob s hand suddenly clamped onto my arm and he pulled me towards him, taking me with him. For a moment I gave in to the inevitable, and then I was angry. I had already given up so much, years to either peoples happiness, to other peoples ideas of what was right for me and as the anger bubbled up I pushed away and kept pushing until I was free. I stood and watched the car tumbling, smelling smoke and burning skin and hearing Julio call out for me. I awoke sobbing Journal entry November 2, 2001 Today is el dia de los muertos some call it the day of the faithful departed and Julio was certainly that if nothing else. I have been preparing for three days and everything is almost ready. When the kids came trick or treating I gave them candy skulls, papier-mC"chC) dancing skeletons, and orange paper zempazuchitl flowers which I have strung into garlands. Most seemed disappointed but still hopeful, after all the night was young. My dinning room table I have turned into a mock grave with Juliob s picture at the head, zempazuchitl flowers everywhere and a candle at each corner. My apartment is alive with the smell of all of Juliob s favorites red mole, rice, sweet potatoes, tamales in banana leaves, pumpkin in brown sugar syrup, and of course sweet Mexican chocolate with hints of cinnamon and clove. According to tradition I have also prepared pan de muertos and cookies in the shape of bones, all this I have arranged on the table along with limes, oranges, peanuts, jicama and pumpkins all decorated with little silver and gold flags. Now all I can do is sit and wait. I know Julio will come. We can't both be happy I know that now. I was lucky once, perhaps I will be again but I won't go willingly. I know now that girl is dead too. -- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Robyn Herrington New Currents in Teaching and Learning / InfoServe Phone: 220-2561 Email: rmherrin@ucalgary.ca Story ideas are like rabbits that have ventured unwittingly into view. The slightest noise or movement can spook them and they bolt off into the dark undergrowth never to be seen again. -- Adrian Bedford ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~