Rouse

Rouse

Part one

By: Carla Sierra Arzuffi

Rose was a very good hunter. She would always hit the target with an eagle-like accuracy. She challenged me 2 days before my wedding day. The last bet was on.

I could have said no, but I could not. I mean, it was Rose, ROSE! The girl of my dreams. 

Well, she used to be. Something had changed, right? I mean I was getting married to the other girl of my dreams, the bubbly ever happy blondie. 

While I was moiling all of this shit in my head over and over again I was called for supper. My parents like traditions, like most parents do. We always have dinner at 7:00pm, not one minute earlier, not one minute late. I still live with my parents, well that is a stupid and obvious thing to say. 

Debussy is playing on the background, the sound of forks and knives clashing in the plates is distracting, I am having one of those slow motion moments you only see in movies. The mouth of my mom moving slowly as she perfectly chews her stake, my dad carefully sipping his wine so he wont spill it in his brand new polo shirt. This is all very distracting. I have a choice to make, a difficult one I must say. 

Am I going to quickly with things? I don't even know if you are following me. Its just the way my brain works, things happen pretty quickly there, here.  

I have changed, over the last year, since I met blondie. Why do I keep calling my fiance blondie? She indeed is very blond. 

This wine tastes cheap, Rose would like it, she likes cheap things. 

I could hunt one last time, in my heart I know I really want to, specially with Rose, damn she is good, she is damn good, God damn it, damn Rose, damn Blondie, Hell yeah I wanna hunt. 

Wow my dad is now looking at me in a funny way, can he hear what Im thinking, does he know? How could he know?, he is not a mind reader. Did I said the word "damn" aloud? Im not allowed to curse, at least not in front of my parents, or blondie, Rose likes it when I curse. She curses a lot too. Is he still looking at me?

Nope he is done. 

Ok if my dad is a mind reader he will look up  if I curse again. Lets try it.

One, two, three.

FUCK! DAMN! HELL! SHIT! PENIS! VAGGGGGINA!

Ok, nice experiment, now I know my dad is not a mind reader, he did not look up once.

Back to Rose, she is pretty, in a weird way, not an obvious kind of beauty as blondie, she has this way of looking sexy as hell when she cries, Rose does, Is that even possible? 

I think crying is hot, in a woman, real tears, not fake ones like the ones my mother fakes when she does not get her way. She is a very stubborn woman.

Chopin is playing now, I like this song. Such a nice rhythm, easy going, like Rose. 

Im getting married. Tomorrow! Today is my last chance at hunting with Rose, if I agree, and Im not saying I will, but if I do I will have to meet her at the "strikes rock" next to the river at 12:00. I still have time to decide. Specially if this slow motion thing keeps going on.  

This new song reminds me of blondie, she wanted to dance at our wedding to the Taylor Swift song "Love Story", that would be lame, of course I said no in a very proper gentlemen way but in my head it was like NO FRIGGIN` WAY BIAAACTH!. 

"You´ll be the prince, I´ll be the princess", hell no! 

The best thing about hunting is the adrenaline you get, when finally after hours of searching you find the prey you want, you close your eyes, let the air go trough your lungs tasting it, the forest, your prey, then exhale quietly. This rush fires your body, it fills you completely, you cant stop, you know what you have to do, your eyes are fixed in the target and you just have to let go. The feeling of conquering, of winning, of life parting quietly, of a last breath. 

There is no more food on my plate, my parents are also finished. The maid comes and takes what is left away. I excuse myself and go to the library, I know my parents wont go there after dinner, I open the bottle of old scotch and pour myself a good 2 fingers of it. 

I can feel her, the touch of her hand running in my neck softly. I am getting goosebumps. My old chair is still there, as always. Blondie once sat there without my permission, like it was hers already, that is what marriage is all about right? What is mine is now yours, or something like that. 

I don't wanna give up my chair, I love that chair, I don't wanna share it, its mine. 

This scotch is so good, perfect I might say. 

Crap. I forgot to call blondie. I always call her after dinner, its our tradition, it was her idea. Well, I don't feel like talking to her anyway, let her call me if she really wants to talk. Right?

I want to hunt. I need to hunt. I thought I could forget that part of me, forget Rose, but I cant. 

How can you erase something that satisfying out of your head. Happiness, how to forget happiness? 

To be continued......