CHAPTER 8

Patricia

I get out of the car while my mother throws little spikes at my butt, under the pretext that it has grown.

Ah, what a mother! She's forty-five years old, but she looks like she's eighteen. She's quite a kid, both physically and in her head. I love her, my mother. I love her more than anything.

A quick greeting to Filipe, our janitor but above all a member of the family who starts chatting with mom who stayed waiting in the car while I go to see if Yolanda is feeling a little better.

As usual, the door of her apartment is double locked but fortunately I have a copy of her keys as she also has mine.

I turn the key in the lock and enter her living room. Her wall-mounted TV is on and the volume fills the whole room.

I push open the bay window and look around the garden and the pool but she is not there. Could she be out? This girl is a real mess. I was about to leave her apartment when I see a huge trail of white powder on the floor that leaves the dining room into her room. My senses start to heighten and I head for her room.

The clothes she had on this morning are scattered on the floor. I don't understand anything. I start to imagine the worst, but I try to stay in control.

I push the door of her room with a hesitant gesture. I don't know what to expect.

No trace of her in her room. The sound of water in the bathroom attracts my attention.

Me (the frightened voice):... Yolanda!... Yoly, if you are there, answer. It's not funny.

Still no answer from her. I slide the sliding door of the bathroom with my hand and the sight before my eyes is appalling.

Me: MUMMMMMMMM!

I didn't know exactly when I said that word. I started shaking and the tears started flowing from my eyes as if they would never stop. I fell to the floor on my knees with both hands holding my head.

Yolanda is lying on the floor, naked. She is unconscious.

I, who was usually very reactive, had become immobile, almost mute.

The sound of footsteps and the door slamming against the wall. My mother came running in, Filipe on her heels.

Mom: Patricia!? .... Patricia!? What's going on?

The next second, she was already next to me.

Mom: My God! What happened here? Is she alive?

Me (in a choked voice):... I...I...don't..know..I...

My mother quickly pulls out some plastic gloves from who knows where and approaches Yolanda.

Mom: Filipe, get my daughter out of here.

Me (shouting):...no, no, I'm not going out...

Mom: ...honey, please do what mom says.

Filipe picks me up by the shoulder and drags me, despite the resistance I show towards the outside.

What a nightmare!

Adriana

I feel like I'm dreaming. My little Yolanda!

I approach her, with my safety gloves, of course. And I feel her pulse.

Thank God! She is still alive. She just fell into unconsciousness.

I quickly grab my phone and call my henchmen so they can come get us for the hospital.

Poor Patricia, she didn't have the presence of mind to check if her friend was still breathing. At the same time it is normal, she is not used to this kind of situation. Unlike me because of the field we are in.

It's a field where you have to expect everything and especially be ready to face all possible situations. And the most important thing is to be calm and cool.

The henchmen are already there. Yolanda is wrapped up in a towel, heading for the hospital.

I go out to find Patricia outside who is recovering little by little from the shock.

Me: Honey, are you okay?

Patricia: Yes, mom.

Me: There was more fear than harm. She's fine, honey. She's going to be fine very soon.

I see her eyes misted with tears and she finally explodes.

Patricia (crying): I really thought ....I really thought she was dead .... This is the first time I've ever faced a person who died in such a horrific way....Besides she's my best friend...

Me: I understand honey, but the main thing is that she's doing much better.

She shakes her head in affirmation.

I put my hand around her shoulder and squeeze her shoulder with an affectionate sign.

I hand her a glass of water which she drinks little by little.

Me: Since when does she do drugs?

She chokes on her drink.

Patricia: ... Patricia: What?

Me: Well, didn't you know? You're always stuffed together and you live in the same house.

Patricia: She doesn't do drugs.

Me: Honey, Yolanda overdosed.

Her look is even more stunned and disbelieving.

Me: The white powder spread all over the floor, what did you think it was?

Patricia: I don't know, I didn't think about what it could be. But the idea of drugs would never have crossed my mind... I mean, she looks blooming.

Me: Yeah, but that's not enough.

I fall silent for a moment and there is silence.

A question starts to nag at me.

I hesitate but I ask her.

Me:... Patricia, look at me.

I hold her hands in mine.

She turns to me and complies.

Me:...I hope you don't...do drugs...like yolanda.

She quickly takes her hands out of mine with a confused look on her face.

Patricia: ...how dare you ask me that question, mom? I thought you knew me...

Me: Yes, sweetie I do know you. But you never know what can happen. Look at Yolanda, you never thought she'd take this....

Patricia: .... I don't do drugs but your son does... and you know it. Don't pretend.

Me:... yes, I know Felix does drugs but he does it in moderation and his doctor reports to me....

Patricia:... Stop it! Mom stops defending him all the time... Did you see what just happened with Yolanda?

Me: Yes, but with your brother it's different...

She gives me an outraged look.

Patricia: ... I can't believe it...

She puts down the glass of water in her hand and it makes a loud noise on the table.

I blow loudly.

Me (speaking alone): And to think we were going to the restaurant. Terrible turn of events!

Pablo

Anthony and I just got back. The mission was quite successful. We made a good turnover.

We gave Adriana's oldest employee a progress report on the recipe, and he will in turn report back to her.

It's three o'clock in the evening and Adriana is no longer in her office. This is not her habit. She stays at work until late at night.

Anthony and I are on our way to our respective apartments when we see Marita in the yard. Curious thing, she is all quiet as if a fly had bitten her.

Anthony (trying to get her attention): Hey ho! Marita, we're back.

She doesn't seem to hear us right away. Then she lifts her head and makes an inaudible noise.

Me (to Anthony): But hey, what happened to your girlfriend? She seems to have lost her tongue.

Anthony: She's not my girlfriend. She doesn't even see me.

Me (putting my arm on her shoulder):... I'll tell you one thing, women like to be seduced. They like to be proven right.

Anthony: Well, I don't understand why they all like to Friendzoner me.

We keep walking, in such a way that we forget about Marita.

Me: ... it's because you don't do it right.... you see..

I launch into a huge encyclopedia on women like a course instructor to his student. Anthony drinks my words as if his life depended on it and it takes my mind off of the fact that I'm spending my time in my room with nothing to do.

Patricia

I can't believe that Yolanda is using drugs. I try to convince myself that my mother is wrong, that she is doing the wrong thing, but it hurts to admit it: my mother never does the wrong thing.

In my room, I mechanically take the clothes out of my closet and throw them on my bed with an angry gesture.

Yolanda, taking drugs? But what was the reason for that? She was fine.

I can't believe that she was not well and that I couldn't notice it.

I'm angry at myself but I'm even more angry at my mother.

I don't understand why exactly she is playing blind and deaf. She pretends not to see anything.

She is pawning Felix's life. He is only twenty years old and his life is already this messy. A poor teenager who has no compass, no bearings, no plans for the future. He lives from day to day and behaves as if the world belongs to him.

I was already worried about his situation, but what just happened with Yolanda made me even more scared about it all.

I take off my pantsuit and exchange it for a jogging suit and a tee-shirt. I put on sneakers and pick up my cell phone from my closet.

At the same time I was getting ready to leave my apartment, my mom was also getting ready to come in.

Mom: I'm sorry, honey. I know you're mad at me, but let's get it over with.

I shut up and looked at the floor.

Mom: Come on, we're going to the hospital to see how Yolanda is doing.

I comply and walk out of my apartment. I lock the door and we go outside.

I start my car and we drive to the hospital. I really hope she has recovered.

Adriana

Patricia is parking her car in the hospital parking lot. We go out together and meet the reception.

Me: Good evening, I would like to know which room Yolanda Alvarez is in, she was taken this afternoon.

-Who are you for her?

I stare her straight in the eye with a condescending look.

Me: What kind of question is that, Miss? I am her mother.

I hear Patricia stifle a laugh behind my back.

-Please excuse me, Madam, these are routine checks. It is not directed against you.

Me: I see! The room number?

-Room #102.

Me: Good!

I stare her straight in the eye one last time before I leave.

In the hallways, Patricia can't hold back anymore. She starts to laugh loudly.

Patricia: ... Mom! You like to bully people too much.

Me: Well, did you see how she talked to me?

Patricia: She didn't do anything, Mom. You're always telling yourself that you're being disrespected.

Me: Respect is the foundation of this life, honey.

Patricia: I know, Mom. You tell me that over a hundred thousand times a day.

We arrive in front of Yolanda's room.

Me (turning to Patricia): Not against it, darling, I'll have to inform her mother. She is currently in Miami.

Patricia: Oh, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes right now. Take heart. I'm going to see how Yolanda is doing.

Me: Ok, baby!

She gives me a peck on the cheek.

She opens the door to Yolanda's hospital room and closes it behind her.

I decide to go to the hospital garden so as not to disturb the other patients.

I take a deep breath and call Catarina's number.

The phone rings several times without her picking up.

I call twice more and on the last ring, when I was about to throw in the towel, she picks up.

Catarina: Hello, Adriana?