Black as Ink

Hola, Gaspar,

It has been a while.

Gracias a Dios Señor Felipe, the mailman, agreed to take this letter to you. He just told me to leave it and a white blanket sticking out of a closed first-floor window. I hear that he’s willing to do the same with you if ever you wish to also send me a letter. Just do the blanket thingy like I do. No te preocupes, he only takes the letter.

It’s a little weird. Señor Felipe wore a scarf over half of his face and these thick raggedy gloves. Well, he’s not alone. Papa ties his blanket around his neck like a cloak every time he goes to work, and as he reaches the streets, he keeps a rag pressed on his face.

I miss Mama. It’s been days. She may be close by, but Papa told me not to open her door without him saying so. I sit still. I just talk to her past the walls. She talks back, but never in the words you can write down. Sometimes, I think it’s all groaning coming from her. I try to be I’m happy whenever I hear her voice, but on most days, it just isn’t enough.

Being stuck in the house and alone somehow pulled me back to writing letters. At least my words could journey past the front door. I hope you’re doing well and hope to hear from you soon.

Tu amigo,

Lucio

P.S. What do you see outside your window?

***

Buenos dias, Lucio,

Got your letter. And I trust the kind Señor Felipe brought you mine. It’s sad to hear about your mama. Maybe she just has a headache that gets worse whenever she sees sunlight. And moonlight too, maybe. Let her rest, amigo.

It isn’t much paradise here, either. Like you, mi tio forbids me from leaving the house. Town rules, of course. I’m stuck taking care of Abuelita the whole day. Tio does all the working for food. He also came up with some weird fashion with this checkered hood over his cheeks. I may be missing a lot of school nowadays. But I know wrong when I see it.

Mi tia is a great help around the house. I thought only the kids were banned from the streets. But Tia takes that rule to heart and stays indoors. She even shivered a couple of times just by touching the front door.

Speaking of windows, I see a slouched man walking his pig outside mine. I see a couple of carriages hurrying past the road. I see a few civil guards walking far apart. And I see a house sparrow perched on a lamppost.

Why did you ask? Anyway, I guess it’s you, me, and the letters from now on. Stay strong and less crazy.

Atentamente,

Gaspar

***

Hola, Gaspar,

Say hi to your abuelita for me. I miss those honey-dipped Torrijas she makes whenever I come over. I could go for one right now. Mama still hasn’t come out yet. Papa just sneaks a tray of food and a pitcher of water into her room before he leaves for work. I tried to say hi to Mama as he opened the door earlier, but he shoved me carried me away.

Lo siento if I’m ruining the mood.

Hey, thanks for telling me your view. I needed to yawn today, gracias. Me? I see a castle sitting on top of a floating island and a silver dragon sleeping on its roof. The king is scratching his head outside. He might be wondering how to shoo the winged monster elsewhere. He called me outside a couple of times to help, but I told him that I was too busy writing.

I told this to Mama through the walls before I told you. I still couldn’t catch what she was trying to say, but I could picture her smiling.

It reminded me of our evening bonfires in the forest. You tried to make me and Pascual pee in our pants with your creepy stories, but I only did that once.

I look forward to having such moments again. Y tu?

Tu amigo,

Lucio

P.S. Wanna check your window again?

***

Buenas noches, Lucio,

I see someone’s been reading too many storybooks. Or have my campfire stories gotten to you and you’ve just fluffed them up with butterflies and rainbows?

Ah, Pascual. I never knew a boy could say so much with his eyebrows and smirks while keeping his lips quiet. Remember the time we were skipping stones by the lake and his stones kept sinking as they hit the water? But he had the last laugh when he accidentally killed a fish with one. Sí, it’s a shame he and his family fled town. But I’m here and wondering if we should’ve done the same.

As for Abuelita’s Torrijas with the honey, they never met any dish or tray ever since we stopped having guests over. I could tell her that you’re dying to dig into a few and promise to send them your way. But the temptation to eat them halfway to the door is strong, amigo. If ever I resist the urge, I can’t say that Señor Felipe will do the same.

Before you start nagging, I did look out my window. Let me tell you about a road less busy. Let me tell you about Conchita and her mama from the other side hanging their wet clothes from windowsills. And you’ll want to hear this… a beggar stood guard near the Hermosa flower shop and kept scaring the bees away.

But then I looked out again. Right past bedtime. A gang of civil guards wearing masks escorted a cart pulled by horses. Under the covers, a mountain of stuff seemed to be hiding. And when it passed by a lamppost, I think I saw a person’s limp arm swing down from the cargo with soot on its fingers.

I stood frozen behind the glass even though nothing happened in the minutes that followed. But when I saw a fully clothed figure step out of a house across the street, I ran back to my bed. It stood like a man, wore black from top to bottom, and had this big beak of a bird.

Lo siento it took me this long to send another. You might already know why.

Atentamente,

Gaspar

***

Hola, Gaspar,

I don’t think you’ve noticed, but we are not near any campfire in the forest. That second view is so you. I still haven’t wet my pants yet in case you were wondering.

Conchita, huh? Nice. Didn’t the days of you two looking at Hermosa’s flowers together blow any heart-shaped bubbles in your head? Once these rules are over, I’ll push you through the highs and lows into love, chico. 

Speaking of high, you won’t believe the buildings that are standing right outside our house. It’s just impossible to count the windows on their faces. Several of them already have their roofs in the clouds. Would it be crazy to think that giants are living inside of each one? Maybe. Ever seen store signs that light up at nightfall? I see them, but I’ll never know how they work. And boy, these self-driving carriages that roll without the horses are blowing my mind. Oh, I could picture you drooling over my window now.

By the way, if any of those sweet Torrijas ever find their way here, I’ll give the first to Mama and get started on that long “Thank You” note to send you. Gotta help Papa with the dishes before he hits me now. Write back!

Tu amigo,

Lucio

***

Buenas noches, Lucio,

Unlike some people I know, I am sure of what is going on outside my window. I pinched myself a few times and I stayed awake. Is there something they’re not telling us?

Now, I’m telling you to quit it with me and Conchita. Does the “barely friends” part between her and me mean anything to you? I say “no” to your question and “no, thank you” to your offer.

As for the view, I might need to borrow your window soon. I’m not looking out of mine these days.

Just be safe, amigo. I hate to admit it. But I’m starting to see what Tia sees, feel what she feels. This time, I’m glad I’m not allowed outside.

Atentamente,

Gaspar

***

Hola, Gaspar,

Please take it back. Take back what you said about the black figure with the bird’s beak.

A horse neighed nearby, and I woke up. The front door creaked open. Then from the quietness of the night, Papa mumbled and footsteps walked deeper into the house. I opened my door a bit and took a peek. This black birdman wore a hat, and he stood beside Papa. Papa let him into Mama’s room. I wanted to stop the birdman, but I could not move. I hid behind my door while covering my ears as hard as I could.

I didn’t bother counting the minutes, but when the front door slammed shut and hooves galloped away, I found the courage to go back out. Mama’s door let out some air. Mama walked out. The one who walked out looked like someone I knew. She was shaking. No, this couldn’t have been Mama I don't know her. I don’t know anyone who has inky patches of skin and bumps as big as eggs on the neck. 

I rushed to my room and tripped. I remember hitting my head, but I don’t remember laying it on my pillow. I sat up from my bed with a new day before me.

Por favor. Take back what you said about the birdman outside your window. Tell me last night was just a nightmare. Tell me it wasn’t Mama. Dime, por favor.

Tu amigo,

Lucio

***

Buenas dias, Lucio,

I wish I could, amigo. But we’re growing up. We can’t always close our eyes and dream the real world away. Big boys should take it as it is.

But yes, my real and not-so-real stories are bound to give people nightmares. Lo siento por eso.

Tia and Tio keep telling me about a band of child killers on the loose. I asked Tio the second time. And he didn’t change his answer. It didn’t look like he was lying. He often hides his face and blinks quickly when he tells a lie. Maybe the birdman is a secret hero who investigates the moves made by these child killers to stop them.

I told Abuelita my theories. She just smiled with her eyes closed, nodded, and said “Problamente” more times than needed. She might not have meant it, but somehow, it helped me sleep soundly. But there was this one time when I kept one eye open, that night when I heard a scream and groaning coming from our neighbors. I called it a prank after getting a quick nap. Then I wondered why no one laughed after.

I still haven’t looked out my window. But don’t let that stop you, daydreamer.

Atentamente,

Gaspar

P.S. I’m scared too.

***

Hola, Gaspar,

Papa said he didn’t carry me to bed that night. So maybe I never left it. I asked him about the birdman. He didn’t know anything about it. It was just a nightmare. That doesn’t mean he’s not out there. I’d like to believe you. That he’s a hero.

Tienes razon. We are growing up. I used to sleep three hours before midnight, but now I stay up one hour more. I used to peel the apple before eating it, but now I bite through its skin like a beast. I used to clean my teeth with a wet rag alone, now I wipe them with rags saltier than the sea.

Now I see a cavernous cave lit by flowing lava outside my window. Mushrooms sticking out from the up and down spikes and glowing in yellow. Rocks floating on the river of lava. I see glimpses of Mama carrying me past my bedtime. The ink has gotten to my hands, I think. I need to I’ll just lie down, chico grande.

Tu amigo,

Lucio

P.S. Tell me what’s outside your window, por favor. Gracias.

***

Buenas noches, Lucio,

You might want to put that pen back into your right hand, amigo. Be glad I’m good at reading past the squiggles.

So your house is inside a volcano now, huh? Neat. The glowing mushrooms could go well with Tia’s Champiñones al Ajillo. Imagine a dish that could turn the heads of the entire town. They’ll be so jealous.

Sounds peaceful, though. Your Mama carrying you. My heart could melt.

And again with the window. You’ll be glad to know that I did take a peek. I knew not much could haunt me during dinnertime. I saw a cloudy night sky, windows of houses, and merchants pushing their carts. I’ll rest well tonight and write more soon. Now, I have to wash this blanket. Señor Felipe might not see it as white anymore.

Atentamente,

Gaspar

***

Buenas dias, Lucio,

I may be impatient, but it’s been three days. I was hoping to hear from you again before telling you about the birdman exiting a carriage and knocking on a nearby house. People really let him in. I knew he wasn’t dangerous.

But I had no idea what he and a few of his men dragged out after the visit. It looked like a long sack of potatoes. It might be a love gift. Then he is a well-loved hero! Maybe he scared off one of the child killers in that house. I told Tio to ask around to help turn my guesses into facts. He said that he was too busy. I threw a bit of a tantrum after that.

Can’t wait to hear what you think.

Atentamente,

Gaspar

***

Buenas dias, Lucio,

It has been a while.

Tell me if I said something, sí? Fine, listen. Outside my window, I see diamond-shaped lights floating between the many trees. The owls are forced to squint as they pass by. It’s as if a starry night is hiding inside a tall forest. There.

Increíble. Did you get goosebumps too? I see now why you love this. I'd like to see you beat that, hijo.

Atentamente,

Gaspar

***

Buenas dias, Lucio,

I talked to Señor Felipe. Wondering if he keeps forgetting your letters. He said he had not seen your blanket poking out of the window for almost two weeks.

Need to borrow one? Or do you need a refill of ink? “Problamente,” Abuelita had said many times.

I think I’m running out of words. You have more, right? At least a dozen? Don’t hold back, por favor. Tease me about Conchita. Crave for Torrijas. Talk about my campfire stories. Write back soon, I beg you, mi amigo.

Atentamente,

Gaspar

P.S. What do you see outside your window?