Mary-go-round.
By: Carla Sierra Arzuffi
Chapter one: Tea and letters.
I am at my favorite cliff, I love the breeze at this time of the day. When everything is calm, and I feel like its just me in this world. I take a deep breath. I know I have to go back soon, they will be expecting me, I cant hide, even though I have tried, I am bound to this place.
Many times I wished that I could run away, disappear into the mountains and never look back, I would if I could, but I know I cant, its not that simple. Nothing in life is that simple. No one here can disappear that easily, actually, no one can disappear, at all.
We all know each other, its a small town. The "perfect, clean, mowed, everything-in-its-place, joyful, lovely town". Everyone smiles and says pleasantries to one-another . We all have tasks to do inside the community, a special role to perform, and you are expected to do it with a smile in your face and a cheerful attitude. I often think and wonder if Im the only one that wants more, that this constant routine of creepy continuity of cheerful men and woman is all there is.
When I was in junior high I had to do an assignment for my "Politics 002" class. I compared our town with the smurf village. Like the smurfs we were also always joyful (actually I think we are on the edge of starting to sing while we work, that la-la-laralala song) we all have a role, and we have the elders, like the smurfs have Papa smurf, to really on, on "difficult" times. There were so many other details, I thought that my assignment was well researched, interesting and kind of funny. The school board didn't like it, at all. They didn't think it was funny to compare ourselves with mythical cartoons, blue creatures, and I quote them
"Thats disgusting", oh but they said that with a smile. Always with a smile.
I was scolded by them, my parents, and my sister was very unhappy ( in a weird have- to- keep- the smile) with me,
"You are running my status" she said. My sister is perfect at being perfect. Everyone likes her, everyone wants to be her friend. It is very annoying, but in the end, she is my sister, and I love her despite our huge (very evident) differences.
The problem with happy people is that I don't trust them, and that´s a problem because I am surrounded by them. Something in my gut is telling me
"run Mary, run, get away".
There is only one person in town that I truly, honestly 100% like. And that is old Tom. He is considered weird, that is probably why I like him this much, and why he likes me, because I am also considered weird. Whenever I can, I visit old Tom, he doesn't come out that much. His house is perfect, as it should (MUST) be on the outside, but on the inside it is kind-off messy, it makes me feel strangely comfortable. When I visit him we sit in his dusty sofa and drink black tea. We talk about almost everything, except, oddly enough, we don't talk that much about our town and the people in it.
Old Tom has never been married, he works at the library, he loves music, books and tea. He told me once that he felt genuinely happy and relaxed reading a book while he listens to music and drinks tea. He is so, not complicated, in a good way, thats why I really enjoy spending time with him.
As I head back home I think of the things I have to for the day, which are trivial things, I am no longer in school, and I wont be starting my job until the end of August, having almost nothing to do freaks me out. I like to keep busy, thats why I keep making this "To-do lists" in my head.
Its probable thats this is because reality is not good enough for me, so I have to continue doing things to distract myself of my distaste for my life. Since I have been thinking of old Tom I decide to go buy a couple of bagels at the "Happy bagel palace" (Im not kidding, this is the name of the store) so we can eat them while we drink tea.
Half and hour later I am standing in front of old Tom´s house with a bag of onion bageles with cream cheese. I ring the bell. Nothing happens,. No one answers. I ring the bell again, and after a couple of minutes waiting I start to get worried. Old Tom is almost always at his house, specially at this time of the day. I try ringing a third time. Again, silence. I walk around the house and to my surpirse the back door has no lock, so I let myself in.
"
Tom, are you here?"
The silence chills my bones.
"
Tom, its Mary. I have bagels"
The only sound I can hear is the one my boots make on the carpet.
Everything looks messy and dusty, as always.
I climb the stairs and look inside old Tom´s room. He is not there.
I go downstairs again and enter the living room where we have our usual soirees.
Its empty. My breathing is loud in my ears, I cant explain why, but I know something is wrong, it just does not feel right. As I approach the coach where old Tom sits I notice there is a sheet of paper on it. And it has my name. I pick it up.
My dearest Mary:
I know you are the first one thats going to notice that I am gone. I expect you to find this. First I have to apologize because I haven't always been honest with you, there are some heavy secrets I have been keeping, I couldn't tell you before because I was afraid of getting you involved. I cant write everything here because its dangerous, and as soon as they find out you know something they will come find you. I know you must be confused, but the answers can be find in the most obvious of places. I wish I didn't have to put this on your shoulders, but there is no one else I can trust, you are smart and different, and I know you are meant to know this. Maybe you will be able to do something, because I couldn't, I failed. I expect you to find the answers,
Im sorry,
Be smart, be safe.
Your friend,
Tom.
p.s.: Destroy this letter.
To be continued.....
C.LS.A
Im happy to be writing again, I have been so busy, I hope I can write as often as I used to.
