Living With Animals

At the start of this day, which turned out to be a good one, I said ‘I’ll make note of what happens today and post it in a blog so that people know what goes on in the wonder, never never, always land of El Campo. So here it goes:

I was most charmingly woken up by someone beating up my locked-from-the-inside, bedroom door.

“It’s three-thirty! You’re parents are gone! The food is ready! I’ve made the food!” Grandma’s voice belted straight through my head. Laura rolled and grumbled in the bed pressed against mine.

“Ok! Thanks, Grandma!” I shouted back, stuffing my head in the pillow. Jeremy, stretched against my bare leg, rubbed against it slightly.

“The food is ready! It’s in the kitchen!”

“Ok Grandma! Thanks! Be out soon!”

“It’s Spaghetti. I made Spaghetti!”

“Thanks!”

“Your parents will be back later! It’s three-th-”

“THANKS GRANDMA I’LL BE OUT IN A MINUTE!!!” I bellowed, smashing my face against the bed. There was a moment’s pause before her steps shuffled away. I sighed in relief, and then started giggling incredulously.

After zombie-ing around, getting ready for the world, I went to the kitchen to be instructed on how to finish making the Spaghetti, to be explained how it was made in the first place, what ingredients it had, where my parents were, what they were doing, and finally that I should make a salad. Did I like cucumbers? Yes. Because my brother liked them. So did I. I didn’t have to put them in if I didn’t want to. I did, I liked them. I could put tomatoes instead. Ok, Grandma. I love you.

After making the salad (tomatoes, cucumber, carrots, vinegar vinegar vinegar) and feeding Yuka, I ventured into the blinding, scorching sunlight. Said hi to the dogs and spent the pseudo-morning swimming and sunbathing blearily, reading a total of about 3 Lolita pages, too hot to concentrate for long. After my brain was sufficiently fried, and I supposed that strutting around topless whilst workers were nearby would give Grandma (the other one, mother’s side) a heart-attack, I gathered my things and made myself lunch. Ate it alone, since brother and sister were still in bed. It was yummy, and I loved how my fingertips smelt like tomatoes even after being in the pool so long. I think I’m gonna make myself so many (tomato tomato tomato) salads during the course of summer that I’m going to end up smelling (if you get close enough, stranger) in that strangely sweet, ripe, red way forever.

I ambled back to the pool where I settled back with Lolita, in the shade this time. The flies weren’t driving me to homicide, so I stayed until my eyes were sleepy with Vladimir’s embroidered words, my legs hot as Yera (dog) jumped on the recliner with me. Determined to blink away the laziness, I ambled to the kitchen to make myself some tea and set out the painting things on the table under the wide porch. Settling down, I sipped the rejuvenating drink whilst eyeing the half-done painting critically. Traced with a finger the face of the boy who was looking in a surprised manner at the grass growing from his head. Sketched were his massive earphones, the birds and contorted woman who blared from out of them. I re-touched a couple of things with the pencil before sinking into mixing colours (this green, that) and watering them into the paper. When I noticed it was already eight I packed my things up, cleaning the paint-dabbled plates with my fingers and put everything away diligently. Noticing everybody was busy with something or other (Sims, Pikmin, Bass practice, late siestas) I grabbed my camera and decided to take a walk alone with the dogs, needing a bit of space. As I whistled for the mutts and walked away, however, Pedro (Pedrito: 11, curiously smart, funny, rascallish) spotted me and asked if he could come along. Surprisingly unbothered I assented, waited until he pulled his trousers on and set off. It was an interesting walk- the same languorous sunset, the same sights, but Pedrito rattled on about different types of fish and hunting (an inward, memory-induced wince) and the morals of fishing and Where To Get Good Fish. The dogs ran around us, yapping after uncatchable rabbits and nudging my hand or the lens of my crouched camera as they walked past. Hot from the walk, I slipped into the pool as Pedrito ambled off. I only meant to cool down but stayed until the stars peeked out, swimming up and down, up and down, completely lost in thought, until it was ten. Got out, dreaming of hot-then-cold showers and the food that followed. After I had lazed a bit in the TV room, watching someone play Pikmin and laughing with the cousins, I made myself a pizza and put it in the oven. As I stepped out of the kitchen, Paloma told me Laura was asking for me. “Where?” “In Guille’s room.” “What for?” “Dunno. Said that they’re playing something you might like.” Attention caught, I peeked into the softly lit room Guille, Laura and Sara were in, two with acoustic guitars, Laura with electric bass.

“What’s up?”

“We’re playing Bon Iver songs,” Laura replied. My face lit up. “Ok!” Run to check up on the pizza, and then spent the next hour or so, maybe (time is hard to keep track of in those kinds of moments) playing around with songs. Laura on rumbling bass, Guille on acoustic guitar, Sara on the whining, beautiful harmonica, me singing,

Come on skinny love, just last the year

Pour a little salt we were never hee-e-ere
Mah-mymy, mymymy, my, my
Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer

Easy to deepen and melt my voice against his wolf one.

Grandma had to go to bed then, so we retired to the New Club Nintendo where I mostly lay sprawled on the couch, my legs resting over one person or another, reading Lolita. I took a couple of tea breaks. A step outside to the cold air, and would wheel around the dogs on the bike, loving the night, jasmine air on my face.

Night time: novels, and films, and eulogies; I would write anything for you.

I would sip my tea, sitting on the steps outside the kitchen, Luna at my side, reading calmly. The cricket and frog filled silence was a big change from the chaotic guitar-hero, pikmin, John Butler Trio noise of Club Nintendo. On the second ‘break’, I cycled to the tractor shed, and lay on my back near it, staring at the stars a while, thinking about nothing important. About the stars, mostly, and this and that, and that. And poor (oh God) Lo-lee-ta. Or something like that.

When it was late enough, and some people had gone to bed, I played Guitar Hero until my hand could not un-clench from the ‘claw’ position, and then Guille came in and said that his A Level grades had just come through- 3 Bs and an A. Oh My God, Yes! Hugs, Hugs, Well Done! (relief, relief). He was still worried, though, because he needed two Bs and an A, and the A was in Spanish. Would it count? We told him not to be silly, why wouldn’t it? A little later it came through that, yes, he was in Cardiff. (More hugs).

Laura and I, the only ones left in Club Nintendo at seven in the morning, collected ourselves and went to clean the kitchen. We were just wiping down when Guille hops through the door and says,

“You guys want to go on an adventure?” We looked at each other.

“An adventure?”

“It’s kind of risky.”

“Risky?”

“Come on.”

We followed him out, barefoot, like characters on a game as he trotted funnily away, leading us to his risky adventure. We rounded a tree and there was the car, turned on, humming and rumbling. A smile split my face and Laura and I scrambled in the back. The air conditioning was on full-blast. Artificial Artic Black Interior. Giggling, we put on the seat belts, and I clutched Guille’s head-rest as we ambled out of the front gate and unto the road.

“No cars from the right!”

“No cars from the left!”

We were off.

Guille swerved madly on the road, jokingly shouting “OH SHIT!” as we laughed madly in the back. Classical FM was on full volume in some mad contrast with out hysterical laughter and curses and thrills as we sped down the road. My heart was swimming at full speed. I couldn’t stop laughing. Dawn was beautiful.

One illegal turn and two past cars later, we were back, stumbling out of the car (which we parked differently at my suggestion, just for kicks), still giggling, adrenalin-filled. Celebration not over, we went back to Club Nintendo to play Soul Calibur. I watched Guille beat the shit out of Laura despite it always being a close call, laughing loudly at their antics.

It was around nine when we got back home, settled into bed, Laura and I still joking as we lay next to each other, Jeremy between us. It was with a screamed BUENAS NOCHES! And a smile on my face that I finally drifted off to collect some energy to start another day.

:)