The Quarter - Chapter Three

Chapter III: Squares and Circles

They say ignorance is bliss. At this point Pedro was blissful because he was fully ignorant of the trials, tribulations and torments that he was to face for his choices and actions.

His determination to get with Syriah impaired his better judgment. One is never to find a love in the stark darkness of a nightclub where the lights, music and alcohol kill any possibility for proper reason to take place.

Pedro and Syriah enjoyed the presence of each other for as long as the sun was absent. Nicol drove them all home, and on the long drive home Pedro got his first listen of “Fallen Angel” by Chris Brown and immediately fell in love with it because he related to it – he has always had an instinct to help people, especially the people that he cared for more than himself.

Syriah appeared restless and hyperactive and she decided to sleep at Pedro’s house, and that night they made love. Perfection seemed an arms length away, and the connection between them was more than tangible. These were only the first hours they had spent together and Pedro could already feel a need to be beside this girl. He was, however, unsure about her intentions and the direction in which she was willing to go with this, but at that moment, all he wanted was to be able to smile and enjoy the blessing of her existence in his troubled life. She made him smile, and he needed that.

The next morning, he woke up and silently crept out of his bed, trying hard not to wake her up. He headed to the kitchen, boxer-clad and money wallet in hand. He asked his maid to go out to buy some fresh fruit in order to fashion a unique breakfast. He wanted to treat her like he believed she needed to be treated.
The maid left and he gets to work in the kitchen, heating up water and getting all the utensils together. He looked at the digital clock on the kitchen wall and its now 13:26. A chill ran down his spine because those are the numbers Pedro will never forget for as long as he is alive. One of his brothers died on the 13th day of October and his mother died two years later on the 26th day of the same month. The doorbell rang and he walked to the door.

He hid his bare frame behind the wooden door, leaving only his face visible to the visitor. As he opened the door, Pedro began to feel the strength leave his body as he saw the face of the visitor, and heard the voice coming from her mouth.

- Hello. Did you miss me?

It was Nydia standing there, with a smile that encompasseed love, tyranny and pure conniving evil all wrapped up and with a ribbon on it and packaged in the fittest and most tempting female body. She was the female depiction of Lucifer that morning. Pedro and Nydia had a relationship that ended sour, notwithstanding the feelings that they had for each other. Nydia had lured him into a relationship that he wanted, although she had a boyfriend of her own, leaving Pedro in a precarious position in that whole love triangle. Pedro had now lost all respect for her.

- Well, won’t you invite me in?

- Not if I have a choice, no! – He answered with disdain obvious in his vocal tone.

- I came here to see you…

- Well, I guess you’ve done your part then. – He said, interrupting her and starting to shut the door – and I’m not glad to have helped.

He shut the door and she rang the bell once again. Afraid that this might wake Syriah up, and now extremely angry, he opened the door, disregarding the fact that he was still only in his boxers and starts arguing with Nydia at the door.

- Could you please just leave me alone right now?

- No… I miss you and I came to see you.

- Well I don’t want to be in your presence and I have someone over already and I don’t want her to come across you.

Nydia stopped at that point and realized that this was not the moment to do this. It would just further impair her chances of reconciliation with him. In the corner of her eye, she could see the girl, so she approached him and hugged him for a bit, intentionally turning her face towards Syriah, to let her know that she saw her. It seemed as if she was sorry for her choices in the past, but Pedro did not care for it. She was trouble and he was trying to steer clear of it.

Pedro closed the door and turned to go back to the kitchen only to find Syriah standing at the end of the hallway wearing his shirt and leaning against the door frame to his room.

- Hey bebé. – He called her a pet name in Portuguese (his first language), because the sight of her body in his shirt took him a few years into the future. He could see himself with her, living together.

- Who was that? – She asked – why did she hug you like that?

- That was Nydia… my ex… I don’t even know how to classify her. She’s my “ex-something”. I don’t even know why she came. We didn’t talk to each other.

- She came because she wants you, P – she said with an angelic smile on her face – she wants you, and I want to know why.

- I don’t know (…)

- I’m not asking you why… - she interrupted him – I’ll find out myself. I want to. After the maid returned, he finished the preparation, and took it into the room. Syriah began to understand what Pedro meant when he said “queen”.

The days passed, and they grew closer together, and as this happened Pedro started to find all the little problems that he would have to face in his relationship with Syriah. She thrived on nightlife, and all the vices that it entails: excessive drinking, tobacco, and the recreational usage of drugs. But he had invested so much that going back now would be an arduous process and he was also determined to show her a different side of life.

The second weekend came around in the calendar since he was in Maputo. It was a Saturday and in agreement with their rituals, Pedro and Nicol headed to the night together. This time around Nicol had come prepared: he had now found himself some female company. They head to “The Palmetto”, the largest club in the night scene in Maputo. As they arrived, Pedro found Syriah and her group of friends all drunk well ahead of schedule. This broke his heart, but he still stood by his decision – he would not quit on his queen, even if she wanted to behave like a peasant.

Along the night, Syriah acted out of control and randomly. She pulled Pedro to a corner, where they spent the rest of the night. The damage that her drunken state had done inside him was to be increased when Syriah told him that she had taken ecstasy that night. Pedro stood by her, in fear that this might have consequences that are way beyond her control. Pedro had no fun that night. He took care of her like no one else would have. Well after the sun began to shine they left the club. This time though, Pedro insisted she went home. He needed some space to clear his mind from what had just happened.

The next morning Pedro began to realize that he had chosen to dedicate his attention to a girl that was severely misguided. Granted she had good intentions, all she needed was a direction to follow, and so far she had been led by all the wrong types into a place where return seems like a dumb option. Life is easier on the fun side.

Pedro was determined to show Syriah that there are different options. What he didn’t count on was the fact that Syriah did not care about the other options. He got increasingly attached to her and he could not stand the fact that their differences were keeping him from making a difference in her life.

He got frustrated at the fact that his love and determination only took him as far as the next fight they were to have. The kisses got replaced by harsh words; the affection got replaced by a bitter and unwanted indifference and the love slowly began to seem senseless.

His cell phone rand and it was Syriah. He picked up, although he feared that this conversation would push the spear further into his heart. He loved her and all he wanted was for this relationship to head to new heights, but it takes two hands to clap and there was no clapping happening between them.

- Hey P, how are you?

- I’m ok, could be better… but hey… what am I to do? – He answered with sadness.

- You’ve been so distant. Is there a problem?

- Can’t you see Syriah? I can’t handle your lifestyle. To be honest – he added – I don’t think you need to live like that.

- Yes, I don’t. But I want to. – She answered, audibly aggressive and defensive – why do we keep going in circles about this P?

- Because I’m not compatible with this lifestyle of yours, ‘Rya. I’d like to be able to tolerate all that you do, but it’s just too much for me. I care for you, but I don’t want to be associated to this life of yours that so closely resembles the one of a raging alcoholic and drug junkie. – Pedro said this as a single tear rolled down his face, and although she couldn’t see it, she could hear his trembling voice.

- Are you calling me a junkie and an alcoholic? – She screamed on the other side of the phone in anger.

- Listen ‘Rya, I call a square a square and I call a circle a circle. If you act like a junkie, then I’m going have to call you a junkie.

Syriah hung up the phone in his face. Pedro is extremely hurt, and a second tear rolls down his face.

[End of chapter three]