Black & White 5

While she sings, she looks at the tables, trying to distinguish the faces that observe her, looking for someone, and hiding her disappointment behind a mask that hardens at the end of each song. Tonight is different, and she feels the eyes of the detective on her even if she cannot distinguish his face, concealed in the shadows.  She does not let her eyes linger in that direction and continues her song. He is there, and she realises that she breathes more easily, now that everything is in place again. But she cannot stop her disappointed glance, or the resentment that makes her voice quiver for a few seconds until it begins to sound smooth again. Chained cast.

He swallows his whisky to digest the bitterness and self loathing that remain in his throat after seeing her. It’s been a month, four weeks of travelling around, hiding under different names never sleeping in the same place twice. He is back to take her away, to keep her safe. Cast in black.

She does not see him for a few nights, but when the police storm the place on the fourth night and, when one officer ask her quietly to stay, hiding her quickly in a room while everyone is made to leave, she knows that she just has to wait. The officer takes her to the stage room, where the detective asks her to sit down at one of the tables. She pours her resentment over him for leaving without a word, and he bows his head and listens for a few minutes until time rushes him and it is his turn to show her how he has planned her escape, his hope, and their way out.

They kiss, hungry and desperate.

She doesn’t want to lose him. But she can see it, months, maybe years of hiding, of looking over her shoulder. Her dreams shattered. His life ruined. If she stops singing now, she will never sing again. He will never be free. No, she won’t go.

He tries to make her understand that she will never be safe if she stays.

She tells him that she will never be herself again if she goes.

She refuses one last kiss that will shake her resolution and stands quickly, leaving her scarf on the table. Cast in white.

© Chelo Cadavid, August 2015