Aiko. Tales of Full Contact. Part 1 3. Virgin

3.

Virgin.


- Hi. I'm from Turkey.

I heard only 'turkey'. It was too loud. Music. People laughing.

- Do you know Turkey?
- Yes, of course.

He's full of smiles. Jesus. He looked like Jesus. The eyes, the nose, the hair.

- I'm happy you know Turkey.
- Yeah. Thanksgiving! Of course!

Then the sour face:

- I'm not a bird. I'm from Turkey. You know Ottoman?
- Yes!

I looked for words to describe it.

- I'm not a chair. I'm talking about Ottoman Turks. The empire.
- Ahhh. World history. Cheers!
- I like you!

Later my brother Dino asked me where he went. I didn't know. Must be partying. He said he was from Turkey.

- Ohh, I like him. He's nice.
- He is! A good birdie. Americans love them.


The next day, Dino and I sat at the buffet. The Turkish guy from the night before joined us. He had big hazel eyes and curly hair. He was really handsome. He’d told me he liked me but it wasn't fair. I travel too much. A kid? Yeah.  But a boyfriend or husband? It’s not fair to the man.

I looked at the food:

- Would you like some? It’s good. Dino, you tried that?

Dino nodded, mouth full:

- Sister. I like everything here.

The Turkish guy wasn’t eating.

- Why don’t you eat? Here. Have some.

- No. It’s alright. I don’t want to. It’s ok.

- Have some! It tastes really good.

I pushed the beef toward him. It was heavy and smelled of salt and fire. He recoiled:

- No! What are you doing? I can’t eat that!  I am Indian. I am vegetarian!

- Oh sorry. I thought you were Turkish.

- Half.. Please take it away.. I don’t eat that.

- Ok ok I just thought you might like it. I wanted you to try it.

The beef sat between us like a dead weight. He stared at me while I ate. He looked nervous. I thought it was just beef, so I offered him pork. Again, he said no.  The hazel eyes were wide and hollow  now:

- You do not understand…The animal knows. At the end, the adrenaline floods the muscle. You are eating terror.

I looked at the pink meat. It looked quiet to me. 

His voice was low and sterile.

- The chemicals they use to bleach the rot. The plastic in the water. You are filling yourself with a slow suicide.

He spoke of toxins, plastic and the chemistry of death. We were not in a nice place anymore.

- Check!

- Sister, I am still hungry…

- It’s ok. We are leaving.

We stepped out of that fluorescent graveyard and into the flat, grey light of the parking lot. He followed us to the car. Still explaining the principles.

I stopped.

Hand on the door handle.

Cold and real:

- So you don’t eat meat, ah?

- No I don’t and I’ve told you that it really –

- Are you a virgin too?

- Har?

- You don’t eat meat so you must be a virgin too, right?

- No… of course not …not anymore…

- No. You don’t eat meat. So. You must be a virgin too.  OK. See you later.

I kept walking.  He followed:

- Can I take you home?

There was no need.

- You know I like you.

- Yeah, but you can’t be my boyfriend.

- Why?

- It’s not fair to men. It’s the business I’m in.

He stood by the car door. Waiting for more. He reached for my hand:

- I still like you.

Empty.

Too careful to ever be full.

I looked at him:

- Oh. Good. I like your hair.

I got in and pulled the door shut. Final click. We moved out toward the street.

In the mirror, he was standing there. Still. Small and clean statue. Left behind in the exhaust.

I turned the radio up. Dino was already looking for a snack in the glovebox.