X
"Homelessness is still a problem," said a very serious announcer on the small radio station Bill was listening to. He had a transistor that a scrap dealer had given him, after he had sold him all kinds of wires, toy boxes and pieces of iron. With that and some snacks his acquaintances had given him, fat Bill had more than enough to survive on.
And what else can I say? Music lessons went on, gigs became more frequent and I continued to embarrass myself on the street. I lived like an artist, with standing ovations, admirers and fans, and then I would go back to my burrow until the next day. It was the best and worst of two worlds.
One day Bill came over in the wee hours of the morn
XI I had breakfast in the bar with Bill, and everyone was looking at us out of the corner of their eyes. I asked the waiter for a cell phone charger, even though I didn't think anyone would call me. I couldn't have been more wrong. Surprisingly, Redman made me an offer I couldn't refuse, as they say. 'A speech? And where am I going to go looking like a slob?' 'Don't worry about the clothes. I'll provide you with some.' 'You say it won't be at the university. What if someone recognizes me?' 'You don't have to worry. People pay for these get-togethers. It's a unique opportunity. I had to talk about Romantic poetry, a period that fascinated me. And on a paid basis! I t
XII The next day, Redman brought a couple of musicians that I was going to play with. We re- hearsed some covers of bands we liked and also prepared a mix of our best own songs. Ru- ben, a Spanish guy who sang in English with an accent, told me he thought my face sounded familiar. In the end, I couldn't hide the fact that we had met in some college hallway, but the guy seemed nice and didn't ask any further. He came with Lisetta, a Portuguese girl he was dating, and whose beautiful voice brought a lot of character to the band. When the day of the concert arrived, everything was great, except for one thing: Harlan wasn't there. I called the phone number he had given me and was told that there was
XIII The withdrawal mixed with all the memories that were tearing my mind apart. Assaulted at night by tremors and agitation, I decided to spend some of what I had earned on a clinical psychologist. When I arrived at the center, I was offered group therapy. Not only was this cheaper, but also allowed me to share my experience with others. Everyone was sitting in a circle, and the psychologist began by asking direct questions: 'John, what's wrong with you?' 'My dad is always getting into my stuff. It makes me want to tell him to fuck off and leave home.' I looked at the teenager, who had addiction etched on his face. The therapist then looked at an older man
XIV It was time for the next talk. "I want to crawl under a rock and die," I thought as I saw Kate and Beth walk in. They stood in the back, staring at the dais with a stiff neck. Beth was about to get up when Redman entered. 'What are you doing?' he asked them. 'I need to talk to Anna.' 'Class is about to start, wait until the end.' 'But...' Redman smiled and waved his hands at her. I remember speaking mechanically, without my words matching the tone I was using, about the themes of poetry. This time I was supposed to be with people who wanted to learn to write. What were those two scoundrels doing there? Surely they had heard about my horrible speec
XV The first few days with Kate were uneventful. Our conversations were about inconsequential matters: her classes, my concerts, grocery shopping, if I'd go back to university. 'Well, tell me about yourself,' I finally said one afternoon as she poured coffee. 'About me?' she laughed. 'Yes, your parents, your siblings, who you are.' 'Wow' she replied in her usual jovial tone. 'How profound.' 'Come on, seriously.' She scratched her hair and hesitated before starting. 'My father, well, he died three years ago.' 'I'm sorry.' 'He smoked like a chimney. He quit for a while, but eventually he came back. The thing is, my mother and I get alo
XVI 'Come on, what happened to you?' wondered Kate when she saw me. 'Can't you guess? It was your dear friend Erika.' 'Oh, shit, I'm sorry to hear that. But hey, it's not my fault, right?' She came over to me and hugged me, worried about the poke in the eye. 'I know, but you're part of her friendships.' 'I can see you're taking it out on me.' She folded her arms. 'I'm the only one who has helped you and cares about you.' 'And now what am I going to do, let her hit me every time she sees me?' 'I'll talk to her, but don't blame me if I can't get her to change her mind. She's stubborn as a mule.' It was a Saturday afternoon and we had
XVII I got off the bus ready for anything. When you have hit rock bottom, get scared to death and lost friends, love and dignity, you no longer look at the world with the same eyes. t's not that you think you have the power to get things right, but that you lose the worry. Except when you feel something like poisonous love, then you are the most fragile and vulnerable person in the world. I crossed the revolving door, close to a woman carrying a very expensive design- er handbag. Out of sheer impatience, I almost bumped into her. The lady crossed the hall and went straight to the check-in counter, where she was attended by a young South American-looking guy. 'Shit, it's no
XVIII 'What did Beth want?' asked Kate. 'Well nothing, she knows we're living together, doesn't she?' She shook her head, avoiding responsibility. 'Yeah, well, I mentioned it to her, but she didn't say anything about you.' 'Well, she told me she was worried about me. She wanted me to meet her and Jack and Radcliffe, her father.' 'And you told her no?' 'I gave her the runaround. It's just that this dinner as if they were my family, I see it as a bit fake.' She got serious. 'I think Beth wants what's best for you.' 'But I just don't get it. After Jack left me for someone else, she wants me to suffer while eating with them? Are