The video opened to Jim’s smiling face filling the screen.
“Hey, there! Here I am, at the Miller ranch, and it finally stopped raining! Let me show you around.”
He moved the phone away from his face to show a large rustic kitchen that was a complete mess.
“Oops. Cleaning lady’s day off, I’m afraid.”
He approached two women that worked at the sturdy wooden table in the middle of the room, their backs turned to him.
“Hey, girls!”
Both women turned to him, saw he was filming and waved hi at the phone. Jim put his arm around the older one, an African-American beauty in her forties, that shrugged Jim away when he kissed her cheek.
“Meet Deborah Golan, the supreme commander of this mess of an army,” he said. “She also works as our full-time guardian angel.”
Jim went to the other woman, a pretty girl in her late twenties, her dark hair very short over the back of her neck and almond dark eyes. “And this is dear Jo, my wa
Catching up with her everyday life was easier than she expected, and that Friday she called on a ladies night to tell Pat’s tale only once. When she was done with it, she said she’d also met somebody before leaving the US. She omitted Jim’s name, and Paola had promised absolute silence, so it looked like just a casual comment on the sidelines. However, Silvia had to bear with a patient smile the well-earned dose of teases about her fixation with gringos. Seeing they were all in an excellent mood, Silvia thought she could start filming for the video Jim had requested. She made sure she didn’t look like the ultimate mess and tried an introduction. Over that week she got used to shooting here and there, a couple of minutes each time, and by the end of the week, after a little editing with the easiest software she found, she thought she was satisfied with her five-minute video. So she followed Jim’s instructions to upload it straight to the blog he had created,
“This is something no man can witness and live to tell the tale, so keep it a secret. For this is a Sisterhood meeting at the Black Rock—which actually means girls night at my place. Let me introduce you to the council. This is Lady Claudia, our manipulation expert.” “Hi, Jay! Nice to meet you!” “This is Reverend Mother Karim with the procreation wing and my little sis Mika, I mean Acolyte Lolita, which is a pun in Spanish about her boobs.” “Hi!” “Hey there!” “And that’s Paola, who we suspect to be a spy, trying to infiltrate our ranks in order to steal our secrets.” “You didn’t say who you are!” “Oh, well, I’m Superior Mother S, always fighting for the survival of the Sisterhood.” “And now we have to leave you, Jay.” “Yes, we have some vital issues to discuss.” “Yeah! Like comparing guys’ performances, if you know what we mean.” “Yeah!” “Bye!” Jim chuckled under his breath, spraw
Jim’s clip found her on a winter Friday night at home, with Paola and Claudia. Silvia read the Twitter DM and asked Paola to make more mate, while she breathed deep and sat down opposite Claudia, to tell her whom she’d actually met before leaving the US.Claudia laughed out loud, refusing to believe a single word she’d just said.So Silvia showed Claudia the video from the Miller ranch, and the blog Jim had designed for them to share their stuff.“Why don’t just have a Facebook private group?” asked Paola from the kitchen, while Claudia gaped at the pictures.“Jay hates any social network related in any way to Mark Zuckerberg,” Silvia replied. “He even calls him Suckerborg! And he swears he’ll never give him access to his phone and personal information.”Paola came back to the table and nodded to Claudia, chuckling. Their friend was still gawking at the one photo of
“Silvia! You okay?” She nodded, blowing her nose with a shaky giggle from the kitchen. She’d pretty much jumped off of her chair when the video ended, trying in vain to wipe her tears away. “But this isn’t the video they have on YouTube,” said Claudia, frowning. Paola huffed. “’Cause it’s not the official video.” “Damned jerk!” Silvia grumbled from the kitchen, lighting a cigarette and shaking her head. Claudia’s eyes were like grapefruits again. “He— He made this video for you?” Silvia shrugged, still fighting back her tears. Paola narrowed her eyes. “That place. It looked like a bus terminal.” “Yeah, that’s where we met. Give me a mate and I’ll explain the video to you guys.” She was still talking when Claudia handed her a mate, while Paola pointed at her empty chair. So Silvia spent ten times the length of the video explaining the zillion private jokes and winks they’d just seen. The
They were having dinner at Tom’s apartment, back to LA, when Jim got on his phone the notification of an update on the blog. It was a quiet evening, only close friends. Jo and Fay were exploring Asian recipes and had them as guinea pigs to try their cooking. After dinner, Jim excused himself and left the living room. Five minutes later he was back, to signal Sean and Jo to follow him. Their friends didn’t pay him any attention. Jim led the other two to the guest room and lay down on his belly, patting the bed for Sean and Jo to sit down, flanking him. He held his phone for them to watch a video. The song was a romantic ballad. Guitar with some keyboards and violins in the background, sung by a woman with a funny accent. And the video was just as simple as the song, no editing pretensions. Sean was surprised to recognize Silvia. Jo’s indie mind liked that it didn’t try to tell a lineal story. It showed two couples in different moments of their
“Come play in my ground. Task of the week: a poem.” Jim liked Silvia’s DM the week after her clip. She hadn’t even asked what he thought about it. This was the first time she came up with a task, and it was a good one. “I’m in. Any particular subject?” “How about states of the soul?” “U r so fkn corny *rolling eyes*” “Humor me :P” She uploaded a poem to the Hey, Jay! before he did. It’s time The long thread of twilights I’ve built my life upon Has lost any meaning So I turn off the sun and lay Streams, hills, woods to rest And take off To some shady inner world Of demons unseen and falling angels Where I wander under starless skies Hunting down my own shadow Until the time comes
Sometimes, Silvia forced herself to stop and ponder about the schizophrenia of sorts that had taken over her life. In what she called the real world, a friend introduced her to one Guillermo, a lovely guy a little older than her, divorced with two children, that didn’t have her at hello but five minutes later. He had a keen mind, liked classic rock like her and had golden hips when it came to dancing and sex. At the same time, on internet’s wonderland, she still stayed in touch with that beautiful, talented man called Jim Robinson, who had turned out to be that other guy, Jay, her emotional rescue when she’d broken up with Pat. She loved the artist like she considered they were to be loved: with respect, admiration and no real desire whatsoever. And she kept growing fond of Jay, her hot, funny, rude pal who had become her intellectual challenge. She would never know what she’d changed in her way to address Jim when she started dating Guillermo
Two weeks before leaving for the third leg of their world tour, that would take No Return to Asia and Eastern Europe until the end of the year, Jim had a fight with Barbara, the woman he’d been dating for the last two months. He heard his front door slam shut, a revving engine, a car skidding away. He ran down the stairs to the living room, his shirt open over his chest, still breathing heavily after the violent argument. His eyes moved slowly around the dark, empty room as he took his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. He dialed and waited, dropping himself on the couch. “Don’t you dare call me ever again, you fucked-up son of a bitch!” The hand holding the phone slid down as he sank in the black leather cushions, still trying to catch his breath. Fine, he’d said too much, and not for the first time. Well, maybe he’d been a little too sarcastic. And things had gotten a little out of control when Barb had started crying and throwing th