He loved my Jewish humor, but this time he didn’t smile.
“It’s too late now. We don’t have time to do all that.”
“What the hell are you telling me? Don’t give me half-hearted phrases. Of course, we can start. Is it that you don’t love me anymore? And why do I see tears in your eyes? Ted, I swear to you, I’ll leave everything and stay with you. I haven’t been able to find a love like this. It’s not fair. I’m still young. Don’t tell me there’s nothing left between us. I swear I regret not answering your calls. I apologize. Forgive me! Don’t leave me. I haven’t learned to lose you. You didn’t teach me.
I don’t know how to do it. Maybe someday, but not now.”
“Jacob, my little Jewish boy from the Polish shtetl, my spiritual psychologist, my bed companion, my love, don’t you realize that I’m dying?”
Now I understood why my friend Lodka, a survivor of Auschwitz, told me that after they killed her best friend, she voluntarily got in line for the gas chambers.
They didn’t let her in because there was no room.
“Ted, you’re killing me. Don’t tell me you have AIDS
because I can’t handle it. It’s not fair, it can’t be happening to you. I’ve seen all my friends die from this, but it never crossed my mind that it would happen to you.
I’ll take care of you; I won’t leave you. I don’t care if you infect me.”
“Hug me, caress me, kiss me, touch me like only you can. You don’t even know how to wipe your own 171
ass, you don’t understand what this is, you’re not prepared. I’ve protected you all my life, but you have no experience. The Swiss man does. But I can tell you something. If I weren’t sick, I would move in with you. We would have all the cats and dogs you want; we would go out dancing at bars and have a Jewish wedding ceremony.”
“Ted, the Jewish Golem, that damn spirit that sometimes has mercy, is here with us. He can marry us right now. I accept you as my husband to take care of you and protect you, for better or for worse.”
“I accept you, Jacob, as my husband, but only during the good times. Let the Swiss man take care of me in the worst times.”
My mother told me they arranged her marriage.
Since she wasn’t in love, she didn’t want a wedding dress. She wore a simple one, without fringes or veils.
I am in love. I am madly in love, but like my mother, I have nothing to wear, not even a tie. It’s the gloo-miest wedding in the world, and my second one after the one on the train. Both, shitty weddings. I hug Ted, and this time, the Christian Southerner and the Jew can’t stop crying.
I returned to Costa Rica because there was nothing left for me in the United States.