ՆԻԿՈԼ ՓԱՇԻՆՅԱՆ. ԵՐԿՐԻ ՀԱԿԱՌԱԿ ԿՈՂՄԸ
46. դավադրություն ըստ Սեսիլի
«Հավանա Ռիվեիրա» հյուրանոցը գտնվում էր ծովի, ավելի ճիշտ` Մեքսիկական ծոցի հենց պռնկին: Իմ պատուհանից տեսարան էր բացվում դեպի ծովը, եւ բացի ծովից ուրիշ ոչինչ չէր երեւում: Ծովը Սեսիլի զուգագուլպաների գույնն ուներ եւ թարմ էր նրա ազդրերի նման:
The Other side of the world - Nikol Pashinyan
- Betrayal according to Cecile
Hotel “Havana Riviera” was located by the sea, or rather by the Gulf of Mexico. From my window the view opened toward the sea and nothing but for the sea could be seen from all directions. The color of the sea was the same as Cecile’s stockings and, unmarked like her thighs.
After breakfast Cecile introduce me to her traveling companions. Her father was a 45 year old photogenic man. His glance was intense and serious, his gestures self-confident and regulated. I was surprised that he would have found anything in common with the little birdie, that is, Elise. But in subsequent meetings I realized that Raymond doesn’t have the opportunity, nor the wish, to establish more serious relationships. His wife, Cecile’s mother, had died years ago.
Elise was the type you could hire for an hour or a day. From time to time she tried to put a serious or concerned expression on her face, as if to suggest that beyond sun tanning, manicure and pedicure—all the things for personal appearance—she was concerned with other issues as well. Elise, of course, was not a prostitute, but then, she was.
So that the reader will understand the difference between a prostitute and Elise, the reader must imagine the difference between a retailer and a wholesale dealer. Elise was one of those people who liked long term transactions, and wouldn’t even mind life-long transactions if a suitable customer came by and offered marriage. In such a transaction, Elise would surely remain loyal to her buyer and wouldn’t betray him without a well-founded cause. But in the meantime, if a more profitable deal were offered to her, she’d break the old deal and sign a new one.
Charles, who was probably younger than Raymond seemed more like a seduction machine than a regular man. His hair was combed with indescribable attention to detail, his teeth were abnormally white. It was clear that he went to the dentist at least once a month, did his manicure and pedicure. Charles smiled like a Hollywood star, smelled of some perfume known only to him, which, as far as I could gather, also had some feminine perfume in it. Women were supposed to identify that smell and conclude that he had just come out the embrace of a famous woman with whom he was in a secret love affair. She would have been some drug baron’s or mafia head’s wife, which would have put the life of our brave Charles in danger.
That morning he was wearing an expensive shirt. From under the collar of the expensive shirt he had tied an elegant kerchief which was ‘obviously’ given to him by the wife of the drug baron, the one who owned his heart, the one who couldn’t get away from her tyrant husband to because she didn’t wish to have herself and her lover killed. This was the picture presented by Charles. I have to admit that he very quickly was able to find spectators. That same day, at different times, I saw him having coffee with two different women.
Cecile, of course, was a beautiful woman. But female beauty can be fickle, devoid of depth and content, as, for example, in the case of Elise. Cecile however wasn’t like that. Her beauty seemed to be reinforced with some additional qualities and had a different weight. There are women who are only sexually arousing. Others sow uncertainty in men, and the man who is attracted to that type of woman asks himself: Am I able to? That’s how Cecile was, but as I became convinced later on, those qualities didn’t completely describe her type.
Despite the fact that on the plane I had not allowed myself to look at her thighs, or even cast searching glances at her, I went against my own decision. I lined myself up such that I would be able to walk immediately behind her and have the opportunity to study her. I justified my behavior with the excuse that as I went through passport control, I should not look nervous and the best way to get rid of my nervousness was to watch Cecile’s sky colored legs, her wide shoulders and confident gait.
But if seems that women have other sensors on their bodies because whenever a man looks at them with interest, they feel it and can single him out in a crowd of people.
Cecile looked very nice in the morning. She wasn’t wearing her stockings anymore but was wearing a very beautiful pair of short pants and an equally beautiful shirt. After meeting her companions after breakfast I came out of the hotel and sat on one of the benches. Very soon afterward, and unexpectedly for me, Cecile joined me. We talked of different things; she said that Cuba seemed like a very boring place and for the time being, the only good things were the nice weather, the nice beach and the nice company. She made the last comment as a matter of fact, and I didn’t pay special attention to it. Then she asked if I would like to swim. I said I didn’t, to which she answered that she did and took off her shorts and shirt candidly in front of me and in her sky blue bathing suit ran toward the beach. All this seemed frivolous to me so I got up and went to the hotel. Of course, I had no wish to be coquettish with Cecile, but her behavior was strange. It seemed to me that she wanted to show that she was accessible. I had enough of a sense of smell to know that Cecile was not Else at all, but she wanted to show me the opposite; she wanted to show that she was extremely easy to get to, and the only thing left was for me to want it and we would go up to her room. The thing is that during our short acquaintance I had formed the opposite opinion of her and didn’t know what to do with this new image of Cecile’s.
I didn’t stay long at the hotel. Like I had decided to, I went to the Museum of the Revolution and saw some very interesting reminders: Che’s gun and a few of his personal belongings. I studied the paintings he had given to the museum as a gift, walked along the streets of Havana a little and then returned to the hotel. My tour didn’t change my general impressions of Havana, although, to my surprise, people were full of vitality.
I saw Cecile again at lunch time in the hotel restaurant. The four of them were sitting at a table, plus a nice looking mulatta woman. Charles continued in his search. Cecile’s and my glances met once and we smiled at each other. Her smile was sly and naughty. She appeared thoughtful. After lunch I decided to go to the beach and swim a little and then lay under the sun. As I had been expecting, Cecile appeared before long but not alone. She was with a blonde man. They were making a lot of noise as if trying to attract people’s, or someone’s, attention. But at that moment, there was no potential audience. At any rate, I didn’t find any suitors; that left me only.
Their game, their screeching, clearly had sexual undertones, but when I looked more carefully, I realized that under that loud noise there was, in fact, nothing going on. This surprised me even more. Cecile clearly wanted to leave the impression of a capricious person on me, although it was so clear to me that she was anything but that. It’s true that I had long ogled her, but I was still convinced that she wasn’t fickle, and had treated her with respect. But why was she doing this: I couldn’t understand it. I remembered how, on the plane, she was speaking of Charles with contempt, but now she was acting like a client of Charles. What meaning did her behavior of this morning, showing accessibility, have, and this game with the blonde guy? Is Cecile trying to make me feel like a competitor?
I couldn’t understand this transformation. For the rest of the day I avoided any contact with Cecile because I sensed that she wanted to get me into some game, and play with me. That theory seemed amusing at first, but later I became cautious. What is that girl thinking, and why? I really panicked, but the day showed that Cecile was getting deeper into her game. It was necessary to find a counter game. I began to think. The first thought that came to my mind was to leave this place quickly. But that was embarrassing, to run away in fear of a girl. It’s necessary to find a more dignified way. Maybe to explain things away? But this was worse; what was I going to explain and how?
After a lot of thinking I finally concluded that Elise, only Elise could save me. Raymond left the hotel after breakfast and returned at lunch time. They had lunch really late. During this whole time Elise was on the beach, on her own, tanning and leafing through magazines. If Cecile has decided to lure me, it would be right for me to show that I’m attracted to another woman. Maybe that would have an effect on her.
The next morning after breakfast when Elise had already gone her way, I went into the water, swam a little bit then came and sprawled next to her. Then I asked her for one of the magazines, asked her some questions, like, let’s say, what she thought about Mila Jovovich and Luke Pearson, a few times I laughed louder than it was warranted, for the consumption of Cecile and her blonde guy. Then I invited Elise for a cocktail at the beach bar. We drank and returned to the beach. I sensed that Cecile was getting really mad. A couple of times she walked by us in a nervous walk. I had greeted her in the morning and had not looked in her direction after that. Until Raymond’s return I suffered at the beach, in Elise’s company. Once I even got her some juice. During this whole time Cecile and the blond were near us and couldn’t avoid seeing what was going on.
I returned to the beach after lunch, swam and sat down on the sand, under the sun. Pretty soon Cecile appeared with the blonde. They went and sat down very far from me. A little later I saw Cecile’s familiar legs next to me:
“May I know why you’re hitting on my mother?” she pronounced the word ‘mother’ with obvious sarcasm.
“Me?” I asked confused. I was going to justify myself but then thought that was exactly what she wanted me to do, “But what’s the problem? I can’t have a conversation with beautiful and attractive women?”
It’s understandable why Cecile didn’t like Elise and my comments about her would infuriate her:
“You’re not talking with her, you’re flirting with her.”
“So what, isn’t that allowed?” I asked impudently.
“By the way, she’s not available,” Cecile said with a serious expression.
“And do you think I’m available?” I reproached her.
She was confused, but only for a moment:
“Well, if you’re not available, then don’t eye young girls’ behinds,” said she, her face in a grimace, her eyes teary; then she turned around and left.
I realized that I was blushing; I ran after her:
“Cecile, that was a misunderstanding, a stupid misunderstanding. Forgive me,” I said. She was really hurt from my ogling; she had found it disrespectful and was deeply hurt. When she had first talked to me about Charles, she had, apparently commented that she didn’t welcome my side glances at her thighs. After that, I had come to my senses, a little bit, but at the airport Cecile had either sensed or noticed that I had resumed my activities again. She couldn’t know, of course, that the reason for my behavior then was to relax before I got to the passport control. But I could not explain that to her.
In any case, we talked things through.
Later on my theory was proven right. She had planned to betray me. Cecile admitted that she had decided to take me to her room and when I was naked, she was going to take all my clothes and leave the room.
“If we had been in Paris, I may have taken you to court for sexual harassment,” she said.
“Why, the devil’s daughter,” I thought to myself.
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