Flamenco

It’s hard to get away from some things.  No matter how far you drive there’s a feeling as if they’re close behind and all it will take is a quick glance back before they tackle and pin you to the ground again.  I’ve put thousands of miles between us but every time I stop you’re there.

I had been driving all night, now through Texas.  The last stop spooked me and I wasn’t going to let a scare derail everything I had done up to this point.  You woke me in a cold sweat.  I slept in my car at a rest stop in Big Bend National Park but you found me.

What’s the difference between a nightmare and a dream?  How can I tell if I’m awake?

I heard something in the darkness.  I didn’t know what time it was and I couldn’t see a thing outside.  No other cars were in the parking lot.  The lights had burned out long before I ever rolled in.  It was silence and night until I heard a sound.  I thought it was a damn coyote or some rodent scratching at the door.  But no, it was you trying to get back in.

You were yelling, “come back!  Come back!  Where are you?!”

I couldn’t see you but I heard your voice.  The handle on the car thumping as you tried to open the locked door.  The keys were on the dash and I scrambled up into the driver’s seat, started the car and drove off in a cloud of dust.  The screaming stopped immediately.  My heart was racing.

I drove all night.  I had thought about zigzagging back and forth over the border.  Crossing into Mexico and driving for a few hours hoping to lose you, but I felt my eyes starting to catch up to the last time I slept.  It was later afternoon and I spotted the makings of a small town skimming along the river and figured I should pull in.

The town was more than small, no more than twenty buildings down a single street.  It was the kind of town Hollywood would construct for a classic western movie.  There was even a bar with saloon doors that creaked as you pushed past them.

The bar was practically empty.  There was a man in the far corner and a woman had just walked away from him into a door way and disappeared.  I didn’t see a bartender in sight.

“Are you open?”  I asked the man.

He shook his head no without raising it to look at me and responded, “ocho.”

I guess there was nobody to steal the alcohol in the desolate void and empty streets.  The bar used only as a place to get out from the unbearable fucking sun beating down on your back.

“There a motel?  A bed?  Anything nearby?”

The man in the back shook his head again.  He pulled a guitar from behind him and started fiddling with the strings.  Tuning it.  I wiped my brow, the sweat collecting like the dust on my car.

“La Siesta,” the man finally said after a minute.  I had turned to walk out and he pointed down the street.  Fitting name.  Just what I needed.

I left my car in front of the bar and walked down the street.  The few moments out in the sun were unbearable and I couldn’t understand how anyone could live in this every day.  It wasn’t like back home.  The weather was constantly changing but it never melted you like this did.  I’d take a Nor’easter in the dead of winter right now and praise it.

La Siesta was as nondescript as everything else on the street.  If it weren’t for the small sign on the door I would have thought it was just another house and figured it as abandoned as the rest.  I pushed it open and was surprised to find someone on the other side of it.  I think I surprised her too.

She let out a surprised squeal and stood up from her seat and said something in Spanish that I didn’t understand.  My linguistic skills were weak and I could only pick up a few words to even know what she was saying.  I handed her forty dollars and she nodded and pointed to the back.  There were a few doors but I just continued walking until I reached the end of the hall and chose the last door on the right.

The room was simple.  It had the only thing I needed and a small oscillating fan.  I closed the door, pulled off my shirt and laid on the bed.  My eyes didn’t need any help closing, they were just waiting for the cue.  Fuck, I’m dreaming again.  Sleep was a necessity now though.  I was going to have to endure.

We were in bed and your legs were intertwined with mine.  Neither of us could move without disturbing the other.  There were no plans to move, not for days.  This was the moment you told me that you loved me.  That morning weeks ago, sleeping in and listening to the rain smack against the windows.

You never could keep your hands off of me.  I never asked why, but you traced your fingers along my cheek every morning we were together.  They stopped at my lips and you leaned yours against mine.  In your pillow soft voice you whispered, “I’m in love with you.”

I didn’t respond verbally.  Like every jackass, want-to-be-cool guy I couldn’t say it back to you.  I couldn’t make you feel good, of course not.  Instead I grabbed you and pulled you on top of me.  Your naked body vibrant as you looked down at me with your amazing smile.  Even worse than a jackass, the next words I said to you after you said you were in love with me were, “I want to fuck you.”

And we did fuck, too.  Enthusiastically and with passion.  I didn’t notice any hurt in your eyes with my response but as a selfish prick I wasn’t looking either.  I just wanted to make you cum.

My heart was racing again when I woke up but not nearly the same way as last night.  It was dark out now.  I was asleep for hours, fucking up my entire schedule.  I’ll be driving all night again.

I slipped out of the building and back towards my car.  The streets were still quiet and I couldn’t tell if it was because it was closing in on midnight or if it was just always like this.  The remnants of a town on its last breath.  The only significant life was coming from the bar, behind the saloon doors.

The lights in the bar were dim all along the walls but a strong concentration in the middle of the room.  In the same corner I was talking to him earlier the same man was sitting in the same chair.  He had a guitar spread across his lap and his fingers were adjusting it to tune.

I walked in and stood against the bar.  There were ten or so people spread out across the room at tables.  There was a low murmur among them until the woman who disappeared into the doorway earlier walked to the middle of the floor.

She was wearing a red dress that flowed down to her ankles.  It was layered along the skirt and looked heavy at the bottom, but her hand was gripping the fabric and swishing it back and forth through the air as if she were spreading a path.  The murmur went dead and all eyes turned to her.  Even the man with the guitar stared at her as she took her position in the middle of the room beneath the heavy light.

Her skin was a perfect shade of caramel and her face was full of youth and beauty.  The hair on her head was dark as the night and put in a perfectly messy bun.  Lose strands hanging down past her ears naturally and sweat beaded along her neck.  She was the epitome of a woman; strong, attractive, mysterious.

The heat was crackling in the air.  The entire room held their breath for her and she squeezed our lungs in her palm with her skirt.  She was facing the bar and looking directly at me.  I couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not but I felt suddenly shy and nervous but didn’t look away.

She spared me and crooked neck to the right in a sharp snap and the man with the guitar strummed violently three times.  The collective lungs in the room let out an exhale.  The woman returned the strums with three alternating stomps of her feet and swept her hands through the air.  Her skirt flew like a fan back and forth.  The dust picked up off of the old wooden floor and the sound of her heels echoed against the walls.

The man strummed again, just as violent as before.  Three sharp notes and the girl answered just as before.  Her left hand now holding her skirt and her right raised parallel with her shoulders.  With each stomping answer she gave the man with the guitar she rotated her body, now with her back towards me as she faced the music calling to her.

Music spilling from the guitar now.  His fingers working over the strings playing a song.  His eyes looking at the instruments neck and his fingers as he plays, not giving her even a cursory glance.  The sweet Spanish sound lulling us all into a trance.  Her movements subtle while she moved in a small circle on the floor.

As the music surrounded me I drifted into a dream.  As I looked at the woman moving seductively across the floor with her movements I saw you as you danced for me one night.  Not as graceful as she was but your hips worked some magic of their own.  You made me sit and you made me watch.

“No hands,” you said, “or I’ll call the bouncer.”

You smirked and I played along.  You pulled your dress down over your shoulders.  The straps not exactly made for it but it still managed to work.  I stared as you turned your back to me and you shook your ass while you raised the dress up your thighs.  I caught a glimpse of your red thong and audibly groaned.  You had me.

I wanted to break the game and scooted to the end of the chair.

“Come here,” I growled.

You shook your head no but walked over to me.  I reached my hands out and you slapped them away.  Your leg raised and you placed your foot against my chest and shoved me backwards onto the couch, then dropped your heel aggressively but lightly to my crotch.  I keeled over and dropped my mouth open.

“Behave, or else.”

You smirked again and dragged your foot off of me as my lower jaw quivered.  I watched as you slowly stripped your dress along your body.  You pulled the bottom up over your hips and tortured me with only being able to view your sweet cheeks in your red thong.  The top half of the dress was pulled down your torso and balled up around your waist.  Your chest hugged tight in a matching red push-up.  Your breasts held high and together, mocking me from the chair.

I didn’t want to play your game, I just wanted you.  Trying to resist the urge until the end was impossible and the moment you came close enough to give me a lap dance I grabbed you.  I growled in your ear and lifted you in the air.  Your legs wrapped around my waist and I carried you to the kitchen table a few feet away and fucked you harder than I had ever fucked you before.  The table shook and you screamed.

Afterwards you commented that if it had been your old table and not a new solid wood piece you just got it would have broken in two with all of that force.  I just kissed your lips and asked if you were asking me to see if we could break this one.

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh.

“Next time then,” I smiled back.

The flamenco girl stomped her feet again and I jumped back into reality.  The guitar strings cut to a soft plucking again as she stomped and flung her hands through the air.  The strength in her legs as she brought her heels down onto the ground was impressive.  The floorboards vibrated all the way to me and I could feel it in my throat.

She danced a sashay towards the man with the guitar.  Her legs loudly pounding onto the ground and her pronounced encroachment upon him caused me to hold my breath again until she stopped just a foot from his chair.

She didn’t look at him though.  Her arms had been thrown straight above her head and her face was looking towards the ceiling.  The man strummed violently again and in her answer she spun and twirled her dress around her ankles.  It spread wide yet hugged the ground like a rose colored cyclone.  The clacking of her heels along the floor so rapid that it sounded like a hail storm on the roof of a car.

The strings were put to rest and the man flipped the guitar over and began to drum his palms on its backside.  The girl in the red dress continued to dance her exotic dance, her eyes on him and a smile as wide as the night.  His eyes focused on her now as well, as if there was nobody else in the room.  She spun and twirled and every time her gaze whipped back to his.  I began to wonder if maybe the other patrons and myself didn’t exist and we were all created as figments of their imagination to watch their dance.

I pulled away and used every ounce of strength in my body to throw myself through the doors and into the street and into the car.  The keys made their way hastily into the ignition and I started up the car and pulled out into the street leaving the tiny town behind.

As far as I knew they were still dancing until the next morning.  His hands numb from beating the back of the guitar like a drum and her legs sore from testing the resolve of the floorboards.  Lovers in the night soaking up the darkness as it hung.  The day time brought reality and reality brought life.  Darkness was where the dreams still lived without being shown their weak spots.

I left you.  I drove away from them with the pedal on the floor just like I left you.  They reminded me of love and what I’m incapable of and how I’m no good for you.  I’d just hurt you again and again.  I’d never tell you how I felt.  I’d always ruin your games.  Every chance I got I’d say, “next time.”

So I drove away into the night, thousands of miles away from you.  Not a word.  A coward.  I left you because I don’t know how to love someone so pure and I didn’t want to taint your smile.  Find someone who can equal you, don’t ever fall downward for someone like me.  I’m in love with you too, and because of that I saved you from me.

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