Translated by Zach Tackett
We met at the Cinematheque. We had taken the same bus and watched the city though the small window without trying to talk. In truth, I watched her when she wasn’t looking. At the theatre I noticed her in line behind me. There was a smile, and another ten minutes of waiting to buy a ticket. I realized when it came time to pay that I only had four coins worth 20 cents and a peso in my pockets. I had forgotten my wallet at home.
I looked through my pockets again: Keys, a peso, coins, and the bus fare bulletin. Nothing else. The ticket clerk was impatient with my delay. As the line grew longer he got angry.
I cursed.
—Two, please —she said to the ticket clerk and looked back at me. –Today is my turn to pay. Did you forget?
She gave me a wink. I wanted to go along with her game, but I couldn’t find the words.
She smiled.
I thanked her.
The employee muttered again.
We walked into the movie.
From my seat, I saw her choose her own seat a few rows away. She put on her headphones. She was listening to her Walkman until the lights went down. No one sat next to her.
I left for the lobby before the final credits, feeling ridiculous. The entire way to our seats and I had only said a stupid “thank you.” I needed to see her, apologize, make up some story in the hope that I could appear less stupid to her. I was so worried I could barely pay attention to the movie.
I didn’t have time to invent some excuse. She came out to the lobby right away. I walked toward her. –Excuse me, I don’t even know your name, and I’m in debt to you.
I suggested we met up some other time. She smiled. She said that it’d be pointless to meet up again if I forgot my wallet.
—Putting it in my pocket wouldn’t help me much. Do you have a pen?
Then I wrote my number on the back of the bulletin that I always carried in my pocket.
She looked into her purse, ripped a page from her agenda, and wrote something.
—When you call, say that it’s for me and leave a message. I don’t like to bother my neighbor.
READ THE REST OF THE STORY IN SAMPSONIA WAY MAGAZINE, HERE.
The publication of this story is part of Sampsonia Way Magazine’s “CUBAN NEWRRATIVE: e-MERGING LITERATURE FROM GENERATION ZERO” project, in collaboration with Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo, and a collection of authors writing from Cuba. You can read this story in Spanish here, and other stories from the project, here.
