IN THE STREET
(Part One: An Encounter in the Night)

- Translated by Al -

"Immerse yourself real life; look for him in your street and your neighbourhood…"

It was that time of year known as Hogueras (bonfires) on account of the bonfires and fireworks they have in all parts of the city.

I'd stayed at home on the night of San Juan (24rd of June), but the next day I felt like going to the fireworks on the beach.

There was as much to see on the ground as in the air. The skies were filled with flashes, bangs and smoke trails; the beach was crowded with thousands of people of all ages and social class, come to enjoy the magic of a fire.

I couldn't help admiring the bodies of some half-dressed youths who, despite the late hour, had jumped into the sea to escape the oppressive heat.

I tried to pay more attention to the boys who passed closer to me, and indeed some of their faces showed as much interest in me as I had in them. But they were with friends or family, which didn't leave them much room to manoeuvre.

After the fireworks finished the crowd began to disperse, and this sea of people flowed towards the bars in the town.

I wasn't very keen on returning home, so I started to walk: the sea-front, the port, the neighbourhood. I wanted to walk and walk until I was worn out.

And before I knew it, it was 3 o'clock in the morning. The main streets had gradually been emptying themselves so there didn't seem much point in continuing to wander round, although a stroll through empty streets at night has always had a special fascination for me.

I took my car and drove down the Calle Alemania towards the Calle Juan Bosco where I knew there was a gay disco, although I'd never been in it. Nor did I intend to go in that day.

Like the Cape of Gardens these places lure you to them, in the hope that one day you'll meet someone who will be the love of your life. Of course you never do, but for all that you'd have still less chance if you stayed away.

There wasn't a soul in the street but I carried on. Just ahead of me, by some large shops, I was surprised to see a boy ambling along the pavement on the left, about fifty yards ahead. He seemed to be returning home after a night out, not in any particular hurry. I slowed down and when I passed him I looked at him rather openly. He looked at me too, holding my gaze as long as I held his. I slowly drove on a little as questions bubbled up in my mind: who could he be? What should I do-stop the car, follow him, or run away as usual?

Before I knew it I'd stopped the car a little way in front of him. I watched him in the mirror. I was certain he would cross to the other side, or hurry on by without giving me a second thought.

But no!

He continued on that side of the road, and when he'd gone a few yards past me he stopped as if he'd forgotten something, walked back to the car, came up to the window and asked me if I had a cigarette.

It's times like that I regret I stopped smoking. If I said no he'd go off and I'd not be able to talk with him. What I actually said was the stupidest thing I could have thought of:

"I don't, but I'll buy you a drink if you like."

He thought about it for a couple of seconds, looked me in the eye again, and said OK. He didn't have to be home until 5 a.m. And, with the same equanimity, he got into the car.

(Part Two: Moonlight)