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Order this writing in the collection book Breaking Silences available for only 1650 |
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This appears in a pre-2010 issue
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TWO TONES
A. McIntyre
Melanie’s version
I got to Merida in October, October 15th I think it was. It was all right, a bit strange. I was on my own and I was too busy to think about anything the first few days because I was finding a flat and I was walking all over the place. So I wasn’t too homesick although I missed Mum and Dad after they saw me off at the airport. I tried going to lectures in the beginning but it was completely crazy. The students turned up but the lecturers never arrived and we just went from room to room and building to building never getting any lectures. So after a couple of days of that I thought, That’s it, and I went to the library to do something for my Extended Essay because I was already worried, but the library was about the size of a single room, and all the books were damaged or stolen. It was so hot. I couldn’t believe it. I’d only been to Spain with Mum and Dad and that was pretty hot but it was nothing like this. And the insects. You couldn’t have your window open without these horrible things coming in, crickets and moths, moths the size of which you’ve never seen. I liked it though. It was ok. And the people were sweet. Very small and squat, but friendly enough. I didn’t go out at night though. It was too scary. There were no street lamps, and it was so quiet. Anyway, no-one goes out on their own after dark, do they? Well, I was the only one there from my university. The others were in Veracruz and Xalapa in the north, and I think someone was in Mexico City, but I’m not sure. I didn’t know them well anyway. I stayed around the town not doing much, or just in my flat which I got through an agency the first day which was lucky. I could cook a bit so I could live cheaply, and there were some great markets. I bought some rugs and jewelry. Then some others arrived from Portsmouth, and they were ok. They smoked a lot of grass and they didn’t seem to care much about anything, but they were all right. We went out a couple of times to a restaurant and some of the bars, and it was nice to have some people from England because it was all getting a bit isolated there by myself. But there was no-one I particularly liked although they were ok. Well, there was this party at someone’s house out of town. I don’t know where it was. We got driven there by this guy I never saw again. He was American and he had a jeep. It was about twenty minutes out of town but the road was bad, and we went slowly because of the narrow road, so it probably wasn’t that far. I didn’t think about how I was going to get back. I just thought, If the others are there, we’ll all go together. We’d been in a bar in town, and I’d had a couple of beers but I was sober. Outside the town it was about as dark as it could get. There were no lights at all for miles, just total dark. The stars were out, and it was beautiful. I’ve never seen the stars like that before, ever. It was as if someone had sprinkled sugar across black velvet. We were at this little ranch, and everyone was drinking Tequila and beer. I don’t like spirits so I just had a beer and listened to the music. They had these drums and these guys were going crazy drumming this stuff, and they had Santana on the record player, and other Latin American music. Nothing much happened. People danced a bit, but it wasn’t one of those really crazy parties. Some of them were smoking huge joints of grass, and I had one puff but it was too strong, and one puff was enough, I knew right away, so I didn’t have any more. Then I was in the garden watching the stars, and some other people were there. The light was very soft and mysterious, and it was a beautiful house. I don’t even know whose place it was. It was absolutely in the middle of nowhere. I started to wonder how I was going to get home after a while, so I went back to the house, but I couldn’t find any of the people from Portsmouth. Then someone said they’d already gone back. They’d been looking for me but they couldn’t find me and they thought I’d already gone or that I wanted to stay. I’d been talking to this bloke in the garden, and he seemed sweet. He was dressed in a tennis shirt and jeans, and he followed me into the house. When he heard what had happened, he offered to drive me into town back to my flat. I agreed because he seemed all right, and we talked a bit more for a while. I had another beer, and we watched the guys on the drums. Then I thought I’d better be getting back as it was getting late so I asked Juan, that was his name, if he’d take me, and he agreed. We said goodnight to everyone, but they were all pretty stoned or drunk, and they didn’t really notice so we just left. It was beautiful out, cool and fragrant, and the stars were incredible. The undergrowth was buzzing with insects and cicadas. He had a sports car, and we got in and started to drive slowly down the road, which was just a dirt track, winding through the undergrowth. We drove and drove, and it seemed like we’d never get to the main road. If there was any such thing as a main road. But I didn’t worry. It was warm, but not too warm, and it was a lovely night. I could see the lights of the town in the distance, so I was relaxed. It’s really flat around there, unlike the north, and you can see for miles. But then he stopped the car when we were still on the dirt track and he started to talk. I listened for a while. He was talking about his family and friends and how he was lonely because they were all in the north, and how he was here and how he didn’t like it. I think he was working while he was studying, but he must’ve had some money to have a car like that. I thought he was up to the old tricks, so I suggested we get back because it was getting late. But he just went on talking, on and on. And there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t exactly get out and walk. Even though I could see the town. Then he put his arm around me, and I tried to pull away, but he said, It’s all right, it’s because I’m lonely, that’s all. I tried to push him off but I couldn’t. Then he was kissing my neck and he tried to kiss me on the mouth at the same time as his hand grabbed me between the legs, and he tried to undo my jeans. I managed to push him off and jump out of the car. I ran up the road a bit towards the town but I didn’t know where I was going, and then I fell. He was onto me right away, and he rolled me over. He already had his jeans undone, and he tried to undo mine, but I struggled and hit him. Then he hit me in the face, hard, and I screamed, so he hit me again. Then I lay still. It was like I was paralyzed. He pulled off my jeans and my panties, and he was between my legs and then he forced himself into me and raped me. I just lay there taking it. I was crying. I couldn’t believe it. There was nothing I could do. At first he really hurt me. But after a while I didn’t seem to feel anything. Afterwards he helped me find my jeans and he was very gentle. He led me back to the car. I think I was in shock. I just sat there crying, and he comforted me as though he was my boyfriend. On the way back, coming round a corner in the town, we hit a car and I hit the dashboard and cut my eyebrow open. There was blood everywhere. He drove me to the hospital and stayed with me while they sewed it up. Then he drove me to my flat. I never saw him again. People said he’d gone to the north. A girl once said she’d rather have a terrible scar on her face than be raped. I’ve got both. They say the scar will disappear eventually when the eyebrow grows back but I know it won’t. It’ll always be there.
Juan’s version
I hate this place. I came here because they sent me. I had no choice. My father’s a lawyer and he wanted me to be one too so I can continue the business with his gangster friends and the gringos in the north with all the stuff that goes on. So they sent me here. Where the heat’s like nothing else and the place is full of flat heads, those fucking indians you see everywhere. Yeah I’ve got a car and money and I don’t need to go to school. But after a while you just want to leave. Up north it’s different. I can get to California or Arizona and it’s different. No fucking flat heads for a start. And California women. I don’t need to say anything more. Those gringos don’t know how to fuck and the women are just dying for it. Pure Latin lover. The other night I fucked this bitch real good. I was just doing the usual thing, driving around all day. Saturday. Smoked a little maria, drank some tequila, hung out with my buddies, you know, like any other Saturday, except that it’s hot, you know, really hot, like it’s never been. And I’m lying in my car thinking about the north and feeling lousy as hell. And someone says there’s a party on over at someone’s farm in the night, so we kill time, and get a little drunk and a little stoned and try to score with some of those bitch flat head women, but no luck. Evening comes and we drive over. Nothing much going on. Just a whole load of stoned guys on the drums and the garden. And I drank some more tequila and thought what a fucking bore everything was. It just made me miss the north even more. Then later these gringos show up, about five or six. White, and the girls pretty, you know, I mean sweet and clean and new. No sweat or dirt. But it’s hard to get to know them, you know, they’re cautious, and they’re with these gringo boys, nothing tough but it’s hard to get to know them. Like they’re from a different planet or something. But there was one. A real beauty, in shorts and a T shirt, and she’s well built but not fat, and I just start to drip for her. So I go into the garden. I see she’s smoked a little but she’s not stoned or drunk. I offer her some but she says she’s had some beer already. We’re talking in the garden and the night’s going by, the cool breeze and the stars up there, and she’s talking about the stars and how she can’t see them like that back home, where she comes from, England, wherever the fuck that is, New England maybe. I heard there’s a state called that. Then she says she’s got to go, so we go back inside and her friends have all gone. She starts getting worried but I say, I’ll take you home, I’ve got a car. She looks at me and I can tell right there she wants it and I start to get hot for her. She’s mine and I know I’m going to get her. We go to the car, and she’s close to me. I can smell her, hot, driving me crazy. I’m thinking, This is it, you’re going to score buddy, this is it. And I can hardly walk because I’m so stiff. So I put her in the car and we drive off. I mean if she gets in the car that’s it, right? That means she wants it. So I’m driving, and it’s dark as hell but I know the road. I can smell her all the time, and I’m about busting out of my jeans. She’s just in shorts and that T shirt after all, and I’m thinking about her wet and ready. And I’ve got to do it otherwise she’ll think I’m queer or something and maybe it’ll get around that Juan had the chance and he didn’t do anything, and people will laugh. They’ll say, Hey Juan, cabron, you’re a pendejo, man. You a puto? You know how it is. So I stop the car and talk to her. She tenses a little but she listens and she talks a bit. I’m releasing about how I think this place stinks and how I want to go home to the north. Then when I think she’s ready I kiss her, I mean I kissed her neck. She struggles a bit as they all do, but then she lets me kiss her on the mouth. She responds so we just kiss for a bit, and then I can’t wait any longer, I’m busting, so I put my hand on her leg, between her legs, and go to get her shorts off. Then the bitch starts to fight me and she tries to escape. The little bitch cocktease. She’s out of the car and up the road, and I’m after her. I catch her when she falls down. She struggles a bit but then she stops, and she lets me get her shorts off, and her panties, and I can feel that she’s dripping for it, I mean she’s wet, wet, really wet as I put my fingers in, and then I’m inside her. I fuck her slowly in the road, and she lets me. She comes and then I fuck her again. Afterwards we lie there for a bit and then I take her home. I guess I was drunk or tired but we hit this car coming out of a street, and I’m yelling at this bastard about the damage to my car and he’s yelling at me, then we both notice she’s cut above the eye. There’s blood everywhere, so I drive her to the hospital where they stitch her up, just like a fighter. And she’s quiet and nothing wrong, and I’m thinking, This chick’s ok, I might see her again, because she doesn’t cry or whine when the needle goes in. Yeah, I think, I might see her again. Then I take her home, and I tell her I’ll meet her tomorrow. I couldn’t sleep. I jacked off a couple of times thinking about her and then I just had enough. I had to get out, drive north I mean, go home. This place can go to hell. I’m not staying any more, so before dawn I packed up and drove off. I’m never going back, and if my father doesn’t like it the sonofabitch can go fuck himself for all I care. What does he know? If he thinks it’s so good, why doesn’t he go and live there himself? So here I am. Half way there, half way home. And I don’t know if I’m going home or not. I think about her but I don’t know if I want to see her again. Those gringo bitches are too weird. Ok for a fuck, and that’s it. But that’s all they want after all, isn’t it? But she was good. Hot, you know, real hot. But I don’t know where I’m going. I’ll have to decide pretty soon. Or maybe I’ll just drive around for a while. I don’t know. I’ll have to decide.
