10

...Gabriel...

—Are you happy? I can really see it in your face, Gabo.

—Shut up, they can hear you. —I whispered—. Wait until we get a little farther away.

—Would you like to come to my house for a while?

I looked at the time, it was almost six o'clock in the evening.

—Well, just for a little while. You know I have to go back home and get ready for mass.

—What a slacker! —He said as we left the parish.

—Don't talk like that.

—You sound like my grandmother. —He let out a mocking chuckle—. Come on, we're the same age, you can't be talking like a pensioner.

—I am polite.

—You're a prude.

—It is not true.

—"Lying is a sin"

—That's sanctimonious, not prudish.

He let out a laugh.

—Well played, Gabo. —He paused—. Hey, did you really like what the Father read?

—Yes, I really like that story, it's about friendship.

—Friendship? I thought they were sweethearts.

—I think you're starting to see gays everywhere.

—Read it again, Gabo, those two want to give it to each other. That's why you must like it so much.

—Shut up, it's not true. David and Jonathan were close friends, so they looked out for each other.

—And why do you like it so much?

—Because it reminds me of Santi and me.

—That or you're thinking they could be a couple like them.

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, would Facu be right? I never thought I could have that kind of reading. I wasn't going to agree with him yet, I had to reread the passage. We went into his house, he took me to his room and collapsed on the bed. I grabbed a chair, sat down leaving my backpack on my lap and looked around the room, it was just as messy as last time. I fiddled around in the desk chair turning it from side to side.

—Did you hear about Maria?

I asked to dispel the silence that had formed between us. He looked at me and shook his head.

—His mother passed away today.

—Shit... —He settled back on the bed—. Did you see her? How is she?

—I don't know, I found out because Doña Josefina told me.

—The old riffraff who told my mom I was smoking outside the school?

—I didn't know you smoked in front of the school.

—It was once and I wanted to try it. —He waved his hand—. Let's go back to Maria. Do you know how she is? —I shook my head—. Do you know when the wake is? I want to go to see her.

—I can ask Father Basilio.

—Better to Manuel, so you stick closer to him.

I clicked my tongue, he gave me a little smile that disappeared instantly. I shouldn't have told him about María, he would probably find out by himself anyway, the news in the neighborhood was spreading fast, especially because of Doña Josefina. For a second I wondered how she was able to find out everything. The idea that she hid microphones in meeting places like the church made me laugh. She would be one of the best spies in the country, even if she couldn't keep her mouth shut when new information reached her. If so, it was terrifying to think that she could hear Facu and me talking. That woman wouldn't keep such juicy gossip to herself as it would be if she found out I was gay. If she had told Facundo's mom that I had smoked, I didn't doubt for a second that she would end up telling my parents. Everything would fall apart if that happened, my life would be completely over.

—We have to be careful when we talk in the street —I said suddenly, receiving Facu's look—. If Doña Josefina finds out that I am... If she finds out, she will tell my parents.

—You're gay, Gabo, gay, you don't have to hide it with me, you already know it.

—Yes, yes. I'm telling you, if he finds out, he's going to ruin my life.

—We can be more careful.

I nodded effusively, I didn't need any more trouble than I had being gay. I sighed and looked at my watch, I could stay a while longer. I didn't want to go home and think about all this, I preferred to stay with him as long as possible, so I could distract myself, that was what I needed at that moment. Facu didn't take long to find a topic to talk about to distract us. As was becoming his habit, he started to tease me about my sexuality, but he quickly stopped, diverting to different topics.

When the clock struck half past six, I decided to return home. I said goodbye to him and returned without much encouragement. Going home alone was synonymous with remembering the sin I had on me, which was getting worse every second that I preferred not to confess it in the parish. At least with Facu I felt good, normal, or at least I had less guilt of being a deviant. I thought about what he would say to me if he knew how he considered me. He had no other way to call me, my dad had called all the homosexuals he had seen in his life that way. I walked into my house remembering when I was a boy. I would have been no more than six or seven years old at the time. While shopping in Del Viso, I saw a gay couple holding hands, my innocence led me to ask my dad why they were. His words were harsh, not suitable for a boy my age. Telling a child that they were "deviants" that I should never approach because they might do something to me was not the right thing to do. From then on, panic set in to such an extent that it led me to stay away from anyone who was holding hands with someone of the same sex. It led me to disown myself, to make myself feel disgusting from the time I fell in love with Santiago to this day. I was also one of those dangerous deviants for the boys. I left my backpack in my room, served Noah food and got in the shower.

As the rain of hot water pounded against my body, I went over and over his words. He was a man raised in the countryside of Santiago del Estero. He was raised by people who conceived of gays as some kind of sick person. It wasn't his fault he thought that way. I sighed, leaning my forehead against the wall, closed my eyes and forgave him, as I had learned to do. God forgave our mistakes, I had to do it too.

I came out of the shower refreshed, no longer feeling heavy or sick. I felt like I always did. I wiped off the steam in the mirror and looked at my reflection, the Gabriel looking back at me was one with a tired face. It almost looked like the portrait of Dorian Gray, it seemed to show me my sins and deform my expression to the point of not looking anything like the real me, the one in the family photos from a few years ago, with a wide smile, showing happiness and calm. I looked away, dried myself and got dressed. When I came out of the bathroom, my parents had already arrived, it was one of those rare times when they arrived at the same time. I greeted them without looking at them, remembering some things made me want to avoid them, I didn't know if it was because of the way they had talked to me when I was a kid or because I felt they could see my sins in my eyes. My dad went into the bath while my mom busied herself with dinner. I sat at the table in complete silence, she hummed a song that was muffled by the sound of meat cooking on the griddle. She pulled out a handful of noodles, broke them in half and put them in a pot of boiling water. I watched her until my dad came out of the bathroom and called her to go give him clean clothes like she was his maid or something.

—Are you watching the food, Gabi?

I nodded, got up and walked over to the stove. I stirred the water in the pot with a fork, pulled out a noodle that I rolled in the tines of the cutlery and tasted it. It lacked a little. I set the fork down on the counter and looked at the three cuts of meat that were cooking slowly, not too much left for me to take them out either. A few minutes later, I turned off the heat, strained the noodles, put them in a bowl and put some oil on them, I heard my parents talking in the room about who knew what. I left the meat on a plate and waited.

—Thank you, Gabi. —he smiled at me—. Wait a few minutes and then put everything away, okay?

I nodded. She left the kitchen to go into the bathroom, while my dad sat at the table and looked at me.

—So, son? Do you already have a girlfriend?

—No, Dad, I want to focus on my studies.

—But you should go find yourself one, so you'll have someone to marry when you're done.

Marriage, one of the sacraments that had to be fulfilled. My mom kept reminding me how much I wanted a pretty, pure and helpful daughter-in-law. A girl to whom I could give her wedding dress, even though I was sure it must already be in tatters. Someone who would bear me children and, consequently, give her grandchildren. I was going to have to fulfill it sooner or later, even if I didn't want to, I had to get a girl she could wear white that day. The crazy idea of not giving her a daughter-in-law, but a son-in-law popped into my head without me being able to help it. I lowered my head feeling my face burning. My dad kept talking no matter how I behaved, he was doing me a favor like this. What kind of stupid things were I coming up with? This was nothing more than Facundo's work, he implanted these strange ideas in my head and I absorbed them without realizing it until they became part of my own train of thought.

"—You're going to be so unhappy if you go on like this... You don't have to follow everything to the letter, if you're a good person I guess that's enough.

—I'm already unhappy. —I acknowledged with a breath.

—So, start by accepting yourself as you are, and that's how things will change."

The conversation we had at the café in Pilar came back to me. It was tormenting me in a horrible way. Facundo was always making me rethink my life to the point of making my head hurt. He was a pain in my head when he would say things I hadn't asked him to. It was hopeless, I didn't know what I should follow, what I should do. He was probably talking like that just to annoy me and end up screwing up what had been my life so far. I was sure that was what he wanted: to fuck with my head until I did what he wanted. Why would he want me to accept that he was gay? It didn't make any sense, unless he wanted to be with me. If he did, why had he told me about Maria? He wasn't the kind of guy who kept quiet about the things he felt or thought. A twinge in my temple made the thoughts fizzle out completely. I could imagine smoke coming out of my ears at that very moment. My brain felt like that, like I had been going around the same thing so many times that my processor had caught fire, filling my whole head with smoke. To stop thinking was the solution for the moment, tomorrow I would talk to him and clear everything up once and for all.

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