How can I put this? I’m tired! I’ve got to deal with the Future Lovecraft anthology (Want a review copy? Ask!) and then on top of that I’m slugging through Sound Fidelity about 1980s Mexico, magic and music. So, I’ll keep it brief.In the following fragment we see Meche in 2009. It’s also the perfect excuse to show a video of Miguel Mateos:
This is a rough fragment, has not been proofed, blah, blah.
Chapter 9 – 2009
Meche sat in the restaurant, looking at her cup of tea, absently folding and refolding her napkin.
“Baby, baby what are you going to do when you grow up?” asked Miguel Mateos in her ear, singing like it was the 80s again and he was pushing the theme of rock in your language, Spanish-language music to compete with the imports collected by MTV.
“Meche, is that you?”
Meche looked up and tugged at the earbuds.
Daniela was pleasantly plump. She had traded her pink sneakers and pink shirts for black shoes in a ballerina style and a white peasant shirt. She looked warm and sweet, similar to the Daniela she had known.
“Yeah,” Meche said extending her hand.
Daniela hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. A typical Mexican greeting, though it startled Meche a bit, unused to such a personal hello.
“It’s so good to see you,” Daniela said and pulled a chair.
“Do you want something?” Meche asked.
“Just a latte.”
Meche motioned to the server and the woman took their order.
Daniela looked at Meche expectantly, a big smile on her face.
“So, is Norway cold? What am I saying, of course it’s cold.”
“It’s fine,” Meche said. “I’ve been there for four years now.”
“Where were you before that?”
“Spain. Austria. Ireland. Wherever there’s work. You’d be surprised. Software development is actually quite big in Romania.”
“Well, that’s awesome.”
Daniela’s smile faltered a little.
“I heard your dad had passed away.”
“Who told you?”
“Sebastian.”
“How would he know?”
“When something happens in the neighbourhood people know. He knows.”
“So you still talk to him?”
“Oh, maybe once a year,” Daniela said with a shrug. “He’s been living in Tijuana for a long time now so we don’t see much of each other. He only moved back this spring.”
“I saw him yesterday,” Meche said, taking a sip of tea.
“Yeah? What did he say?”
“Nothing. I just saw him standing across the street.”
“You didn’t say hi?”
“He didn’t say hi either.”
Daniela’s coffee arrived. She opened three little packets of sugar and poured them in.
“Are you still angry at him?”
“What do you think?”
“You could always hold a grudge.”
“Bingo,” Meche said winking and pointing a finger at Daniela.
Daniela sighed, resting her elbows on the table and carefully holding her cup.
“I guess you’ve forgive me?”
“You were not the major issue,” Meche said, “although you played your part.”
“Meche, we couldn’t keep it on forever. Casting spells, playing with people…”
“Why not?”
“It wasn’t right.”
“That’s not why we stopped, though.”
“Maybe it was a bit of why we stopped.”
Meche shook her head, tossing her tea bag onto a napkin and folding it all into a ball.
“We stopped because Sebastian broke the circle. Betrayed me. Fucked my life.”
“He didn’t…”
“He didn’t?”
“Meche, Sebastian adored you.”
Meche leaned back, an unpleasant smirk on her face. Adored her? Right. He had a funny way of showing it. A funny way of being her best friend.
“Look, I guessed you were still on good terms with him. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I don’t want him showing for my father’s novena. I know it may seem the polite thing to do, but I don’t want him in my mother’s apartment. I’m pretty sure Jimena invited him, but I’m against it. He should stay away.”
“Meche, that’s not right.”
“It is what it is.”
“Are you going to tell me to stay out of your apartment too?”
Meche shrugged, her face cold. She didn’t care if Daniela went, but she wasn’t going to encourage it either.
“That’s mean, Meche,” Daniela said. “We both knew your dad.”
“Well, he’s dead. He won’t miss you.”
Daniela chuckled, looking down at her hands.
“Here I thought you were trying to reconnect.”
“I’m a bitch like that. See, I wouldn’t want someone hexing me or my mom. Old habits.”
“We wouldn’t hex you.”
“Liar, liar,” Meche whispered. “Just tell him to stay out of the apartment.”
“I brought something for you,” Daniela said, reaching for her large purse and pulling out a fat manila envelope. “Don’t worry. It’s not hexed.”
She set the envelope in the middle of the table. Meche glanced at it but made attempt to look inside.
“You know Meche, I always thought you were the smartest of us. You were always so sharp. But now I realize you’ve always been half-blind, and not nearly as sharp as you think.”
“What do you mean?” Meche asked.
“You need to let it go. My regards to your mother.”
Daniela slipped away. Meche drank her tea slowly, taking her time. When she was done she opened the envelope and looked inside. It was Meche’s notebook. Her old grimoire. There were also lots of photographs. Daniela’s quinceañera party and Daniela looking like a big piece of candy in her gigantic dress. Meche leaning against a wall, headphones on, staring at the camera as if she was daring someone to take a snapshot. Ah, Constantino and Isadora’s group. Sebastian’s motorcycle. And…
…Sebastian and Meche. It was a series of photos taken inside a booth. They were making faces in the first two frames, their tongues sticking out. By the third one they had settled down and were looking at the camera with a smile. The fourth one showed them looking at each other. In that last bit of black-and-white film, their expression was inscrutable.
Meche stuffed the photos back inside the envelope.
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