Forgive me, Tiger.

Sammy and Dave (draft)

What I remember well are Robbie and Jamie's arms holding mine and tugging me into the chaotic atmosphere of that night. Robbie's glasses fogged with an odd condensation, cigarette smoke coming out of his mouth. The rough feel of Jamie's dreadlocks on my cheek, and his stentorian voice shouting in my ear, "Oh, that one's cute. Come on, Dave, go talk to him!" I hesitate, because, after having taken an unknown number of shots and having lost count of them, as I try to approach him i see a light so bright that looking at him is impossible for me, as if he were some kind of angel under a starry sky. . And instead he's just a stranger in a blue-light gay club. "Jamie, don't do your usual thing, it'll never work!" he makes a mock-offended expression and, smiling mischievously at me, he whispers sharply "Come on, Davie, sooner or later you'll have to go with a black fella. Trust me, I've been there, their thing is..." "I think I've already tried it. I'm done" he pauses, blushing and rolling his eyes "...Me is not an option baby. Come on, have you seen how sexy he is? He's looking at you." And in the midst of that chaos, perhaps to make a friend happy, as I would say shortly after, or perhaps because I really wanted it, I look up from my glass and I see him: he is leaning with his back against the wall a couple of feet from us , with a tight sweater on, his dark skin and his white teeth shining under the lights which are the same color as the night, the ones we had put on that night to mimic those of Blue Alma's*. Is he smiling at us? Jamie removes all doubt from my mind by loudly shouting "Hiya, hottie! What's your name?You'll have a chat with my friend, yeah? Look at this big boy!" I see the vein in his neck flex as he grabs me by the shoulders, pushes me and releases me with a yank, turning me against him. The angel guy continues to smile and grabs me before I can fall on top of him, taking my hands in his. He laughs, his dark eyes shine the moment our gazes meet, and describing this now seems almost like a fairy tale, but after all those years I necessarily have to keep my memories wrapped in a veil of idealized romanticism, to protect them from the pain of what happened next as if it were cellophane. "Everything alright? Perhaps you've had a little too much to drink?" his voice is so sweet a gentle, unlike that of any man I've ever fallen in love, befriend, or slept with. "No no, don't worry! My friends here are just fucking around...they're wasted!" I shout, trying to drown out the music. He seems relieved and nods cheerfully. "Anyway, I think I'm still sober...so, if you don't mind..." I stop talking, the syllables mixing in my mouth along with all the alcohol I drank. His hands are strong but gentle, clasping my shoulders. "Look, the light is blue here but you look green to me," he didn't have any black  accent, or at least not as much as Jamie or Don, "if you want me to, i'll take you outside for a moment. Let's get some fresh air, hm?" "Okay..." he takes my hand and makes his way through the crowd to the exit. Once outside, we sit on a wall, slim ghosts of cold air come out of his lips. I rub my eyes.
-What is your name? I'm, er, David. - I shake his hand - David Turner. You can call me Dave. -
-it's Samuel Sawyer. -
-Samuel...- I whisper. He smiles at me again and I swear, I swear, my heart skips a beat.
-You don't like it. -
-No no no! It's a beautiful name, seriously, it's...-
-Christian. -
-Yes. God heard, right? -
-How do you know the meaning? -
-A middle school friend of mine was named Samuel. And for a RE assignment that we had to do together we were to find the meaning of our name. -
-Oh, wow. And did you do it? -
-No...unfortunately not. - I suddenly feel sad and look at the ground -D'you wanna know? -
-Yes. -
-A few days before deadline, Sammy had a car accident...and died. -
-Oh, good God. I'm sorry. -
-Yeah. That night I prayed incessantly that it would all become a bad dream from which I would wake up soon. The next day I ran crying to a pastor and asked him the meaning of Samuel's name. He just told me God has listened, and I was happy about that. Sammy didn't come back, though. And from that day I decided that I no longer believed in God.- I sigh casually, not even paying attention to my statement. But turning towards him I see his pained expression and a thin silver necklace in the shape of a cross hanging from his neck.
-Fuck! I'm mortified...I hadn't noticed...Ah, such a terrible observer. -
-It's okay, Dave. I am convinced that everyone must have their own opinions and beliefs, to live in peace with others. But I'm not a hippie. Seriously. I hate those. - we laugh. After a few minutes of silence, Samuel sighs and takes my hand.
- Listen, can I ask you, what are your intentions are with me? I mean, your friends practically tossed you against me and who knows what strategies they suggested to get me and you to bed but... I'd rather not, sorry. - There is no malice in his voice or embarrassment, just a sincerity that I have seen so rarely that for a moment I am left speechless.
-I'm really sorry. I know it's strange, people usually come here to have fun, drink and all those other things but it's not for me. I just wanted to try and go out, do something for once. Do you get me? - I feel my heart hammering in my ribcage as if my ribs were the cymbals of a drum kit. I pull away quickly, to get the urge to kiss him 'till we forget our names out of my head. Samuel and David, his lips whisper my name.
-Yes of course. You know, I often feel this way too. My friends drag me here because a mutual friend of ours works here, she's the bartender. Jamie's sister, you know? Jamie's the black one with the blondish dreads. Yup. They keep introducing people to me, telling me "Go and have a good time". In the end I always reply "fuck you!" and, well, let's say that most of the time they listen to me. - We burst out laughing again. Then he leans towards me, my face an inch from his.
-So you're leaving, Samuel? - I say, and while the cold, smoky wind of my breath floods his face, he nods. He leans in and kisses me on the cheek, his lips smooth and delicate.
-Beloved. - he whispers in my ear.
-What?-
-David means "beloved". - He walks away beyond the traffic lights, turning a couple of times to smile at me.