Mary-go-round
By: Carla Sierra Arzuffi
Chapter four: Peter
The last time I saw Peter was four years ago, at prom night. Peter and I grew up together, we were always in the same classroom and he lived just a few houses from mine. His mom and mine were good friends so we had a lot of play dates together. As we grew older the uncomfortable feeling of growing up and actually becoming a girl and a boy put a strain on our friendship for a while, but we managed to save it, he was my rock.
After he and his family moved away (disappeared) the day after prom night I had a hard time copping. People in our town don’t just move away, it is a very weird thing to happen, but every 10 years or something, it happens, and when it does, they never come back. At first it always shocks the community, but then they start talking less and less about them until they are just a forgotten memory, like they never existed.
Me on the other hand, I couldn’t just let go. The space that Peter had left was hard to fill, when someone is that crucial to your life and routine you cant just simply cut the cords and move on. At first, I didn’t understand how everyone else could do it, I would watch my mom for hours trying to catch a glimpse of her missing Peters’ mom, it never happened.
Every time I tried to talk about it, talk about him, the people around me would just smile and say “He is gone Mary, you just have to move on”. And I tried. I really tried. The truth was that I had been in love with Peter, actual-real-love, every fiber of my body and mind was attached to him, when I was with him I felt like I could continue this fake life is Peter was by my side.
The only person I could talk to about Peter was, of course, old Tom. He always listened, he would let me rant, cry and sometimes laugh hysterically. He just sat there, waiting patiently until I poured out everything I was feeling. I knew he could understand me, because when he was younger, much younger, something similar had happened to him.
Peter never talked about moving, or going anywhere, I knew things where tense inside his family; Peter talked about his dad and mom fighting, which is very unusual in this town. His dad was a researcher for the elders, I never knew exactly what he did, but Peter said it was something important.
So, I couldn’t understand how it was possible that Peter was here right now, and that I was actually seeing him. Peter no longer looked like a boy, he was better built now, and he had a hint of a beard, but his face looked the same. Peter moved his arm, motioning me to go down to the patio. I was wearing a thin nightgown and nothing else, my feet were bare, my hair was a mess after the bath and I again was sweating like a baby pig. But none of that mattered. My body moved like a magnet being pulled into his opposite and before I could notice I was outside.
The night was dark, I searched for Peter, who was just a few minutes, or seconds ago, standing right here, but I could not see him. A thought crossed my mind, maybe I was finally going crazy and with everything that had happened today I could not deny that it was a possibility, and now I was imagining people. But then I heard a “Psstt, Mary, over here”
I turned right and I saw something moving in the bushes, I moved quickly, when I reached the place were I was sure I had heard Peter voice I felt something, someone put his arms around me. At first I flinched, it scared me, but even though I could not see him, I could smell him. It was Peter. Defeated I put my arms around him.
“Its so good to see you Mary” Peter whispered in my ear. I don’t know why, but hearing this made something inside me burn, I pulled away and I slapped him right in the face.
I could now make out his features. He touched his cheek and smiled.
“I guess I deserved that, in some way”.
“What are you doing here” I said, my voice was breaking “Where did you go? Why? Why didn’t you told me? You were gone, and you never called or send me a letter or a smoke signal that your were okay”
Peter looked right into my eyes as I let myself say some of the things I had been holding for years. I couldn’t help it, I started crying, the warm tears fell into my cheeks reminding me what it felt to feel something.
“Well, that’s a lot of questions” Peter said with just a hint of pain in his eyes “I know I would have the same ones, I want to explain, I will explain, but not now, not here” he whispered.
I stared at him in shock “What is happening, I don’t understand anything”.
“I know you don’t, at first I didn’t too, but you will soon. You have to be strong, I know you can”.
I swallowed and whipped the tears with my hands “Okay” was all I said.
Peter smiled, it was his same beautiful smile, that smile that use to make everything okay, and just for a second I felt like everything could be okay.
“Meet me tomorrow at the cliff, be there around noon, and I will explain, bring the book” with that said he moved and gave my cheek a sweet kiss, I felt the warmth of his lips touch my tears, and then he was gone.
I knew now that old Tom, Peter and the book were connected, but I still didn’t know why. I walked back to my house and room; I picked the book from the floor. I crumbled into my bed holding it, and even though I thought I was not tired, I instantly fell asleep.
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