Brought with the Wind

      

by Pablo Arimany

 

I hum along in the large bed as I watch college students singing acapella style and dancing in stage. I had never been on any play before, nor had I ever acted, but watching these actors having so much fun made me want to act myself.

 

I crawl my hand inside the chip bag lying on top of the sheets, like a bear going inside his cave when winter arrives. I throw a chip in my mouth and laugh every time a joke is made.

 

It was winter in Chicago; the wind was silently blowing outside, cutting the skin of the passersby as they cut through it. The buildings lay unmoving at their respective spots in Michigan Avenue, as the wind created frozen waves in the air. The wind sang a refreshing lullaby of liberalism and modernism, unaccustomed in the conservative society we came from.

 

Besides the TV, the bathroom door is open, with my mom’s back facing me. She is wearing a short skirt that shows too much of her tight-clad legs. Her upper body is completely covered with a long sleeve shirt, a sweater on top and a leather jacket, as well as a woolen scarf that is now lying on the bed. My dad is there as well; he is sitting on top of the toilet, speaking to her.

 

“You can’t go out like that!”

 

“Why not? I’m just going to dinner with Meryl”

 

“It shows too much, and you are married to me! That outfit does not say that. You look as if you are looking for a one night stand.”

 

“Please, don’t be ridiculous! I can dress however I want.”

 

I watch my dad sigh as he covers his face with one hand.

 

“You are going to freeze if you go out like that. You should wear something else.”

 

“I don’t care. I like this outfit.”

 

I’m entranced by the movie I’m watching, my eyes fixed on the screen, when my dad steps out of the bathroom and turns the screen off.

 

“Hey! I was watching that!”  I protest.

 

“You have to get ready. We’re going out.”

 

I throw my head back, looking at the ceiling. I had already put my pajamas on and my knee socks on top of the normal ones. It was supposed to be a lazy day. Just me and my dad. Without mom, just watching TV without saying a word to each other.

 

“Yeah, there was a change of plans. We can’t stay on the hotel all the time!”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“We are going to the stadium, to watch the Chicago Bulls play! It’s full house, we’ll have a blast!”

 

I stared at him for a few seconds. Neither of us liked basketball. We had a conversation once about it on our way to my grandparent’s lake house. We made fun about Americans for being so passionate about basketball and baseball. He told me himself that he couldn’t stand those sports.

 

“I know, but watching these games live is not the same as watching them on TV. It’s going to be an awesome experience for the both of us.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t want to go.”

 

“Oh no, you have to. I bought the tickets already.”

 

I wanted to face palm myself. It’s perfectly fine with me if he wants to waste his time and money on a basketball game. But why on earth would he drag me with him? Why would he waste twice the money on him and me without even making sure I wanted to go? That was an un-thoughtful move from him.  

 

“You are coming with me! And that’s final. We need some father/son time. Now, go get ready! We have to be there in like two hours, and the place is pretty far.”

 

After laying for a minute in bed like a starfish, just staring at the ceiling and going over in my head all the reasons why I did not want to go to this game, I went to the bathroom to get ready. My mom was still there, so I stood next to her by the sink, looking back at our reflections as she applied a cover of lipstick.

 

“Please get me out of this.”

 

“You know, I actually think this might not be a bad idea. It will help you both spend some time together.”

 

I turned around to face her with furrowed eyebrows.

 

“You don’t even enjoy being with him anymore either.”  She just sighed.

“Mom, are you and dad getting divorced? Please tell me the truth.”

 

“I-I really don’t know. I don’t want to say something, and then let something else happen. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

 

I turned my back to her and began changing.

 

When we were both ready, we descended to the lobby and went outside into the street, with a few cars and people passing by, despite being in a large and busy city. I’m wearing several layers of apathetic boredom and a scarf of strangling duty, not even the wind shaking us like fragile trees convincing my dad that we should go back to the hotel.

 

Sure, the game was fun once we got there. The stadium was detonating with the blazing light of hope, thrill and life itself from everyone present. There a giant, inflated red bull floating around the stadium, and all I could hear were the fans trumpeting cheers for the team.

 

But none of this compared to the wonderful time I had with my dad.

 

By the end of the game, it was as if all the horses of heaven had fallen from the never-ending dark cloak, creating gushes of keen wind. So to not let our face skin fall off from wind cuts, we decided to go inside a Dunkin Doughnuts. We had coffee, despite the hour, because we had both always enjoyed coffee. We stayed there talking about nonsense for a few hours, laughing as we took bites of those closed doughnuts with jam on the inside.