“Who are you?”
It’s the second time she’s asked me, and yet I’m unable to give her an answer.
Right after she woke up, she rushed to the bathroom without looking left or right. She vomited.
And vomited again.
Then vomited once more.
As she retched and strained, I assumed she wanted to vomit herself entirely into the toilet. I could already see tomorrow’s headlines:
“SHOCKING!
A 50-year-old woman emptied all her internal organs into a hotel toilet, then disappeared herself.
No one knows who flushed the toilet.
Only a charred piece of lung remained on the toilet rim.
Police deduced she was a menthol cigarette smoker.
So, dear readers, smoking really kills!”
While Ana was in the bathroom, her mobile phone began buzzing on the table and kept moving around, but it’s impolite to answer someone else’s phone, so I ignored it.
But it wouldn’t be ignored. It kept vibrating until it reached the edge of the table, then fell to the floor with a loud thud. A piece of it flew off in the process, and from that moment on, it stopped vibrating.
Shortly after her phone gave up the ghost, the bathroom door opened. Then all the commotion began.
“What do you mean, who am I?” I ask calmly. “Are you serious?”
I look at her amused. I thought after last night nothing could surprise me, but it seems I have no clue who I’m dealing with. I just know I’m dealing with a woman (I’ve already confirmed that) and I know her name is Ana Don’t Know How.
That’s it.
“But who are you?” she stammers again. She looks like a monument dedicated to bewilderment.
“Good Lord! I’m Tiberiu. You really talk seriously?”
She suddenly went to the armchair as if her knees had given way. I light a cigarette and remain silent. It’s the best policy.
I’ll keep quiet. I’ll let her think it over.
She’s absent-minded now, so she’s thinking. It won’t take her long to reach a conclusion:
“Get out! Now!”
So she’s smart.
If all the women I’ve dealt with had told me that at the right time, their lives (and mine, yes!) would have been much better. But it’s useless for her to be smart… afterward.
Firm as an ancient goddess of indignation, she raises her hand and points to the door again, then grunts and rushes to the bathroom at the speed of light.
I bend down and pick up her mobile phone and the piece that flew off. I place them gently on the corner of the table. The bottle of schnapps sits in the middle of the table, and, alas, it’s so empty that looking at it makes me feel depressed.
To avoid seeing it, I enter the bathroom. I expect to witness a spill of guts, lungs, and bits of brain on the toilet seat.
It’s not that bad. Just vomit everywhere.
“So you didn’t leave,” she observes between rinsing her mouth with water and spitting in the toilet.
“Believe me, I’d be happy to leave, but I don’t have the room key. Some joker tossed it.”
“Where did they toss it?” she asks, her eyes round.
I point a finger to the vomit puddle in the closet:
“There.”
Ana holds her head in her hands and has the frightened face of a child discovering the world for the first time. The world of alcohol, of course. Then she starts rattling like a machine gun:
“You were with me all night… here? Did we sleep in the same bed? How did I end up here with you? And, above all, where the hell are we?”
“We bumped into each other yesterday at the airport for the first time. Like a gentleman, I hurt my back carrying your suitcases. Now we’re in the hotel across from the airport. We agreed to split the room cost. You treated me to a bottle of Viennese schnapps, the one you’ve been trying to get rid of for an hour now. That’s the story!”
“And where’s the part where someone threw the key in the toilet?”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot. Someone got drunk and threw the key in the toilet.”
“That much I understood!” she yells in a soprano voice. “But who, sir? And, above all, why?”
“To prevent the other one from leaving the room.”
“Why prevent him?” she whispers, then groans with her eyes closed.
“Because someone was in the mood for sex. What’s wrong, Ana? Do you have a headache? If you want, I can get you an aspirin from your purse. I saw you have a few in there, next to the secret pocket where you keep your condoms.”
“Oh my God,” she says frozen. “You raped me.”
“Of course. I raped you with a condom you offered me yourself. But the correct version is that you raped me first. Only after that did you say you couldn’t go on and asked me to rape you. That’s how it was.”
“You raped me!”
“I just told you, yes,” I reply sarcastically.
“You r… “
“But stop it already! Fuck! You’re driving me crazy!”
She goes into the room and throws herself face down on the bed, whimpering worse than a little girl who just found out she won’t get a bike for her birthday.
This takes me by surprise. I don’t like her whimpering. It saddens me. I liked her much better last night when she was feisty and ready for action. Now she’s like a soft rag that whimpers and moans. And whimpers.
No, women should never touch alcohol. They’re not made for it.
I pick up the phone from the table along with that piece and put it in her hand.
“Your phone vibrated a bit while you were in the bathroom.”
“You broke my phone!” she yells furiously. “It’s not working.”
“How can it not work? Give it here. I split the device in two and put it back together. I check everything. The battery is in place. The memory card is in place. Come on, it works,” I reassure her. “You can call anyone you want, but you have to press a little harder on the battery cover. Come on, Ana, stop crying. Call your sister and see if she’s coming, and, most importantly, when. And if she is coming, tell her to stop by the reception first and ask for the other key.”
“Oh, what a mess!” she whispers, clutching her head. “I don’t want to be found here. Not with you. Not like this.”
“But do you think I want to? I don’t really want to either. What do we do? Solutions? Ideas?”
“It’s like a pigsty here. Oh my God! We need to clean up first. Come on! Start by flushing the toilet, and then tidy up the room a bit,” she says, collapsing on the bed. “Oh, I forgot: make me a cold compress for my forehead. Make sure it’s not too wet, squeeze the towel well. And open the damn window, it smells like vomit and alcohol in here.”
“And what else does it smell like, woman?”
“Don’t call me ‘woman’! Ana yells, then grabs her head again.
I’m glad she’s in pain. I have an almost sadistic satisfaction. Almost? I’m fully sadistic.
“Are you trying to make me clean? I say annoyed. Hello! Is anybody home? I’m a man, did you forget? Who’s the male here? Males don’t clean. Males hunt, males think, find solutions. In this room, I wear the pants, so I think. Clearly, woman? Look, I’ll bring you a compress for your head and an aspirin, but I won’t sweep with the broom even if I’m dead.”
I take the pills from her purse and bring her a glass of water.
“What’s this?” she asks, opening just one eye.
“Take this aspirin.”
“Are you an idiot?” she screams, pushing me away. “These are not aspirins. Did you take them from my purse?”
“Yeap. But there was no label on them. I thought they were aspirins. They look alike.”
“These are my pills,” she whines. “My… my psychiatrist prescribed them to me. I’m going through a really rough patch. This whole vacation thing in Vienna is part of therapy. Only meeting you wasn’t part of the therapy.”
“And… um… I don’t know how to put it nicely, so I’ll just ask you directly: Did your doctor happen to tell you that nerve pills should be taken with liquor? That’s it, right? That’s why you don’t remember anything. You drugged yourself with these ‘aspirins’ and poured alcohol over them.”
I let her moan as much as she wants. I open the window halfway. The fresh and crisp air enters the room, and I feel a total nausea creeping over me. It was much better before.
I go to the bathroom, make her a compress, put it on her forehead, then swallow my pride and get to work. In fifteen minutes, I’m already in a rhythm. The toilet bowl gleams, the bathtub gleams, the tiles and grout are immaculate.
In the end, I take a sip of water and return to the room. It’s cold. I quickly close the window, then light a cigarette and sit on the bed.
I try to think, but the gears in my head spin without any direction.
“Hey,” I ask her, “are you sleeping?”
“But who can sleep with all the racket you made in the bathroom?” she moans.
“Did you really mean what you said? Was your vacation in Vienna part of the therapy your doctor recommended?”
“What does it matter?” she sighs. “Now that I’ve met you, everything’s ruined. I have to start therapy sessions again. More money, more fun.”
“I sympathize with you,” I say, patting her lightly on the shoulder. “Seriously! I understand perfectly. I’m going through a terrible period myself. I’ve been thinking of disappearing somewhere for a few weeks now. I need that kind of therapy too. What would you choose between Dubai and Thailand?”
“I don’t really think I can think straight at the moment.”
“Make an effort. Come on. Do you want one of those pills?”
“Nooo!”
“Can I have one? It’s been a long night. I feel the need to calm down a bit.”
“You know what?” she groans. “You can have them all. Yes, I insist: take them and drink them all. Drink them with alcohol.”
I go to the bathroom and take one of the pills with a little water. From the door, I turn back and take another one. Damn it, how bad can a double dose do? It was an exhausting night.
I deserve an extra pill.
Ana talks on the phone with her sister.
“Yes. No. Yes…”
She puts her hand over the phone and whispers to me where we are.
“Tell her you’re at the hotel across from the airport and that you’re staying in room 87.”
“Yes, dear. No one’s here, the TV is on. I’m alone. Yeah… You’ll find me in room 87.”
“Tell her to ask for the other key. Otherwise, we’ll die here of hunger. We definitely won’t lack water and sex.”
“No, dear, I’m alone!” she snarls and gives me a murderous look. “Didn’t you hear the TV? It’s a crappy show! Listen… um… ask for the key when you come. I seem to have misplaced mine somewhere.”
And she closes it.
“Is your sister younger or older?”
“Younger.”
“You know… these brain-blaster pills are really good. They calm you down. Can you give me your doctor’s address too? Why did you end up going to him? Menopause crisis?”
“That’s none of your business, you pig!”
“You’re right. Give me another one of those pills. You know what? Forget it, I’ll take one myself.”
Ana rises like a storm and grabs the pill box from the table.
“How many did you take?” she asks with a suspicious look. She counts them and then grabs her head with her hand. Finally, she tells me: “You asked why I ended up in therapy? That’s why, because of idiot men like you. You’re just like my dear husband. You know what he did to me?”
“No.”
“Imagine this! After twenty-one years of marriage, he divorced me. He first separated, about a year before. He went to live with his damn accountant! The slut is much younger than me. I didn’t stand a chance against her.”
“And? Do you still have the kids?”
“We don’t have children. Just four dogs, and yes, they’re all mine.“
“So, you didn’t come out empty-handed. It’s still something. Anyway… But you didn’t answer my question. Which is better? Which way should I go? Dubai or Thailand? Oh, God, your aspirins are great. I feel a calm and peace like I haven’t felt in years.”
“Whoa!” exclaims Ana, startled. “I think I’m starting to remember some things,” she says with her eyes fixed on the ceiling. “You’re right, it’s true that I had sex with you. I remember now. I’m terrified when I remember, but I remember.”
“You’re exaggerating, really. Was it that bad?“
“It was the most pathetic, most pathetic, and most worthy-of-crying sex session of my life.”
“Alright, alright. I’m glad your memory is starting to come back. No need to thank me.”
“Go to Dubai,” she suddenly says. “Yes, go to Dubai!”
“Why?”
“That’s just how I feel it’s better. That’s what I would choose.”
“Just like that? Intuitively?”
“Yes.”
Voices are heard right outside our door.
“Well, Ana, I think we should say goodbye now. I have a feeling we won’t have time later.”
“Goodbye! Good luck in Dubai!”
I hear the key turning in the lock. We both flinch. Our eyes focus on the door. The room is eerily quiet. I start to tremble.
The door opens slowly.
NEXT