The Barcelona Midnight Express, Part II

by Deirdre Abrahamsson

It was early, just after 6:00 a.m. But Stella wasn't tired anymore. She thought about her dream--she could always remember them so clearly--and smiled at the simplicity of the symbolism. I couldn't hold on to him. I lost him. He's gone.

Stella was starving and went out into the Plaça in search of breakfast. At a café in the plaza she had coffee and a cheese baguette.

Then she headed out to La Rambla and walked east, towards the sea. She walked along the coast down towards Barceloneta and sat on the beach in the shade of a lone tree. Although it was early there were many people about--walking, running, lounging on the beach. Down the way there was a kind of jungle gym where a shirtless, muscular young man was doing pull-ups. Two older men were also working out, one doing push-ups and another stretching. Huh, she thought. How ambitious of them.

The sun was warming up, and she stripped down to her bathing suit and went for a swim in the Mediterranean. She stayed out in the water for a long time, swimming north for about 200 yards and then back down south. The water was cool and refreshing, and after a time she just floated on her back and let the soft waves gently carry her.

It is nice to be here, she thought. Nice to have nothing to do, just to forget myself here. I am not really hiding. Just taking a break. Seagulls screeched overhead in the cloudless sky. This was like my dream last night, the beach and the balloon sailing away. She sighed and dove under an on-coming wave. She waited as a few more waves passed by and then rode a semi-decent one in, all the way to shore.

Back at the hostel, Stella finally got Elizabeth on the phone. They planned to meet at Plaça Reial later that evening.

"I am so glad that you're here!" said Elizabeth. "You're going to love it, and we're going to have so much fun."

"I'll try," Stella said. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to or could have fun. But she was happy to meet with Elizabeth. They hadn't seen each other since school ended in June. Elizabeth had been spending her summers in Barcelona for three years now.

Stella was at the fountain at nine o'clock sharp that evening, but she ended up waiting for nearly a half-hour. She didn't mind too much though. There were loads of people hanging out and passing through the square.

"I'm so sorry that I'm late," gushed Elizabeth as she hurried up to Stella. "I'm on local time."

"You look stunning," she said to Elizabeth. And she did. Her dark, blonde-streaked hair hung past her shoulders and her white halter top made her tanned skin glow. "Wow! Barcelona has been good to you!"

"And you, my dear Stella. You look ... tired," she smiled. "But a night out with us and you will be feeling really good! Meet Antonio and Javy."

Stella noticed the two guys with her. Both of them were very good-looking--tall and strong, with dark hair and blinding white smiles. She kissed them hello once on each cheek, all the while blushing, realizing Elizabeth brought one of them for her.

"Well, let's get dinner, shall we?" sang Elizabeth. She linked arms with Stella and they headed out towards La Rambla. Antonio and Javy chatted away in Spanish behind them.

They took the metro up to Graçia and dined at a pizzeria called Angels. They were lucky to be seated right away because soon after a crowd gathered at the door, and there was a long line to get a table.

Antonio was from Rome and was also spending the summer in Spain. Javy was a local Catalan, and Elizabeth had met him through one of her roommates. Stella soon guessed that Antonio was her date for the evening.

She had a great time. The pizza was delicious, and Elizabeth was upbeat and hilarious. Antonio's English wasn't that great, and often times the three of them lapsed into Spanish. Stella was surprised that her high school Spanish was coming back to her, and she understood a lot of what they said. She even shyly chimed in now and then.

"A couple of lessons, and you will be fluent," smiled Javy. "Antonio here is an excellent tutor."

"Italiano, Espanol, whatever you want," Antonio said. "I serve you." He bowed his head dramatically.

Stella laughed and blushed again. Antonio was really handsome, strong jaw, dark eyes, thick black hair. Tall, dark, and handsome. Could she let go of Marc that quickly? He felt her looking at him, and he flashed a smile. She blushed.

"And now, fiesta-time!" said Javy, as they left the restaurant.

"Yes, there is a party that some expats in our building are having. There will be lots of interesting people there," said Elizabeth.

Elizabeth and Stella linked arms again, and they walked east, towards the sea. Stella loved the streets and the architecture of the buildings.

"We're heading in the direction of La Rambla. The party is near Passeig de Graçia," said Elizabeth.

"This is such a beautiful city," Stella sighed appreciatively. "I can't believe that I haven't been here before. It's like an art deco wonderland."

"And what do you think of the Italian stallion?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows suggestively. "He likes you."

"He is handsome, but I don't think I am quite ready, you know. It has only been one day!"

"Old Marc is such a stick-in-the mud," Elizabeth declared. "And you're here to have some fun."

"Yes, but he was my stick-in-the-mud," said Stella defensively. "I love him. I mean, I loved him. I ... I don't know what happened. What went wrong?"

"He could have waited a few more days until you were back home in the States. He just broke up with you like that?" Elizabeth shook her head. "What a way to end a vacation."

"I say I'm surprised, but that's not really true," Stella mused. "It was coming for a while I think. We were at that point where you either commit to getting married or you break up. I guess we decided to break up. Well, he decided. I wanted to get married."

"Really, Stella?"

"No. I don't know. I mean, you get so used to someone, you spend so much time together. Even if wasn't always that great, you were in it together. That's love, right? Commitment."

"I believe that love is hard work," Elizabeth replied. "But if it is REALLY hard work then it's not right. I remember my horoscope back when Danny and I were going through our breakup a few years ago. It said something like, 'You are like a square peg trying to force yourself into a round hole. It doesn't fit, you are trying to force it, and you end up doing damage to yourself and the hole.'"

"Wow, that's it," Stella said thoughtfully,

"It was painful to admit that it wasn't going to work, but...I never looked back. I decided that I am not going to just settle with something just because I WANT it to work. I am not going to force it. If it is going to happen, it will, and when it feels right, I will know it."

Stella was listening intently to her words.

"In the meantime, I am just having fun. And you should too. And," Elizabeth lowered her voice, "you don't have to sleep with him or anything. Just relax and get to know him. Take your mind off Marc, and be here."

"Now look where we are," she continued. "This part of town is called L'Eixample. And those buildings over there are Gaudi's work."

Stella looked up at the building in front of her. It was colorful and ornate, and she had never seen anything like it.

"It is like out of a fairytale," she said.

"Exactly, dear Stella. You ARE in a fairytale. So wake up and enjoy it!"

The party was on the fifth floor of an apartment building just off Passeig de Gracia. They rode up in an ornate, wrought-iron elevator whose cables creaked gingerly. They could hear a driving bass beat by the time they reached the third floor.

Javy led the way, and they walked right into the apartment. A haze of smoke and a buzz of voices hung heavy in the air. Salsa music played loudly, and there were people everywhere.

"Fred!" Javy called loudly, and a blonde guy dressed like Elton John came rushing forward--a kaleidoscope of texture--fur, sequins, and pleather. They chattered in Spanish, and introductions were made all around. Fred's face was flushed, and he was holding two drinks, a beer and a cocktail.

"Welcome, please drink. There are lots of drinks," he sang to them, and then rushed off into another room.

"Wow," Stella said. "What a character."

"He is THE hostess with the mostest!" said Elizabeth. "He is a banker by day, and a party animal by night."

There were lots of beautiful tanned women in halter tops, like Elizabeth, and Stella was feeling matronly in her short sleeve shirt. They were in a large dining room. The chandelier was a tricycle, thickly painted in an array of bright colors so that it looked like melted wax.

"Fred's roommate Jordan made that," Elizabeth said. "He's some kind of abstract artist. He also works as a living statue down on La Rambla on the weekends. He dresses up like Mae West. You have to meet him. He's hysterical!"

Stella looked at the lamp. It hung from the ceiling at an angle and was wired so that lights came out of the handlebars and in the shape of a heart around the seat. Blue Christmas lights were interwoven through the wheels, and there was a red horn and a shiny silver bell on the handlebars. It was really quite extraordinary. Who would even think to do a thing like that?

End of Part II.