Wishful Thinking

Wishful Thinking

Her phone is ringing. God Damn it her phone is ringing again!!

It’s been ringing on and off the hook since she hit the hay almost an hour ago.

Her usual bedtime is 8:45 in the evening. Actually, her favorite bedtime is further past the evening tide because she likes to fall asleep under the stars…

…well more like under the view of stars through the skylight on her roof. Dreamers dreaming dreams getting their rest…

…but this phone… God Damn that phone… it’s a fucking nightmare.

This atrocious thing has been ringing on and off. This is the seventh time that someone called!! Is this some phone jockey at the bottom of a telemarketing-pyramid scheme!?? Whoever this caller is, they just made ‘The List’.

She’s getting frustrated, hell she’s beyond frustrated.

She grips the bridge of her nose and pinches it. Her frustration recedes enough to settle her nerves and suddenly… the phone stops ringing...

Did it really work?

Finally, peace and quiet. She throws herself back and hits her head on the pillow; …but there it goes again; right when she was about to get some shuteye, the damn phone is ringing again; The phone is ringing again!! This makes the eighth time it rang! Whoever they are, they're persistent… frustratingly persistent pissants. Why are they still calling? Whoever’s responsible they should know they already made a spot on ‘the list’: a special one. Guess she’ll just have to add a gold star next to this caller’s list entry;

(Good job jackass you’re the cream of the crop among those Telemarketing-Pyramid schemers.)

Against better judgement and all things Holy, the young woman snatches the receiver off the base. She’s more than ready to unload unholy hell upon this telemarketer.

“Who in the hell is this! Do you realize what time it is!??”

“...Giselle, you are as feisty as ever.”

His familiar voice leaves her frozen, like a deer caught headlights.

“Lozaros!… no way…is it really you… Lozaros Cuervo?”

“...yeah… it’s me Giselle,” “I spent more than five dollars' worth of quarters to reach you.”

“...Lozaros…”. Giselle ’s second response is but a whisper. She’s caught in a daze.

“...Hey listen, Giselle … I’m sorry for calling you like this.”

“...”

“Giselle…? Are you okay?”

“Lozaros… Where in the hell have you been!!?”

Lozaros chuckles. “As I said, feisty as ever.” “To answer your question… I guess you can say I’ve been off finding myself.”

“Finding yourself!? Go look in the mirror if you want to find yourself!

The last I heard about you dropped out of school and started crashing from couch to couch!”

Lozaros sighs. “If you want to call it that then I guess yeah I’ve been crashing from couch to couch… but between one couch to another I was making money all over Texas and Mexico from street fighting.”

“What!! Street Fighting!!?”

“Yeah… Chicha, muy dinero and most importantly I want to take a shot at being a Professional Fighter.”

Giselle breathes an aggravated sigh.

“Cut the crap Lozaros, you were close to graduating; You only had a semester left…Nobody wanted to see you fail Lozaros nor did they want you to drop out just because you want to be a fighter!! Lozaros, it's already been three years since you dropped out of school. You’re not a teenager anymore, Chico.You don’t even have a high school diploma. How are you going to make it in life, Lozaro?”

“There are many ways to succeed in life, Giselle, and there is only one road to failure… Once I turned my back to academics, I accepted failure as a scholar and yes I walked on the path to failure once I just upped and left the classroom, continued out of the school building, and I didn’t until I was off the campus. I didn’t bother to take a single look back. I just hopped on my motorcycle and took off.

“Sounds more like running away to me, Lozaros.”

“Giselle, I couldn’t give a dirty rat’s ass about all that academic stuff. Even if I didn't drop out to pursue a college education, and get that Masters Degree in World Literature I’ve always wanted to. College doesn’t amount to anything. All of that crap is just wishful thinking and the whole high school experience is just a bunch of dead memories.”

“You can’t be serious, Lozaros. . Do you hear that nonsense you’re spouting? For Christ’s Sake, what was the time you spent with me and our friends!? I mean, we spent late nights into the early morning cramming all of that school work with our friends. All of those midterms and finals!! You're going to freaking dismissing that as wishful thinking.”

“...”

“You don’t mean that do you Lozaros”

“...”

“Bastardo! Answer me!!”

“All of what we and the gang have been through is not wishful thinking. Far from it.”

“... then what was it to you, Lozaros?

“...my time with you and our friends was an experience worth more than a lifetime… …something I can do all over again.”

A hush suddenly befalls the two.

A lone tear streak across Giselle’s face: like a shooting star granting someone’s wish.

“And here I am, with this rant in my head.

I considered unloading on you. Damn you Lozaros”

From Giselle’s end of the line Lozaros can hear faint sniveling.

…He knows exactly what to say.

“...Oye, no te preocupes por eso, Giselle.”

Lozaros’s calming words and suave yet gruff accent soothes and calms Giselle.

“Lozaros?

“Yes Giselle?”

“...so about this MMA stuff. I still think it’s not for you. You have brains Chico… but not for you to get them smashed in.”

“Giselle, my mind is made up about this.”

“...”

“Giselle..?”

“Where are you now, Lozaros?

“…I’m outside the Texaco near the train tracks running parallel along Mykawa Rd.”

“Stay put! I’m coming to pick you up!”

The call ends.

Lozaros breathes an anxious sigh and hangs the receiver back on the payphone's hook.

He reaches into his pocket. He still has some change left…

… oddly enough it’s enough for another call.

Lozaros breathes steadily as the conversation he just had with Giselle fades into time, flowing forth into oblivion of the past. He looks up and watches the breaking of dawn; all those familiar glowing hues of indigo, purple and blue. Somewhere beneath the sky in the cradle of passing clouds, the sun is ready to rise…

… Memories are ephemeral phenomena; transient as they are, yet they subsist by linking together one and another into chains. As moments expire, one after another; memories join together, link by link. Memories traverse, to and fro, their beaten path from the present to the past. Upon the whim of the mind they are summoned. Memories are mere echoes past. They are reminders of follies past…

...lest history repeats itself…