Josiah Marquez

**Six Years Ago…**


“Ugh, Mom!” I complained. “You’re going to stain my forehead!”
“Be quiet!”
I squirmed on the black plastic stool. I was sure my queen would stain me with the dye, even though her delicate fingers glided gently, wrapped in a plastic glove. Damn it! I knew I should have waited for Luana to get back from college. My cousin was great at these hair care things.
“I don’t know why you insist on changing the color. I love your blonde hair; you always looked like an angel, son,” Marta said.
I didn’t even need to roll my eyes to the side, where she was standing, sliding a brush full of black dye through my hair, to know she was pouting in disappointment.
I was sweating from the stuffy wind, which forced me to stay shirtless.
A Monday was coming to an end, and I decided to dye my hair before going back to school the next morning. I didn’t want any of those assholes to know my hair was blonde; I liked the more serious vibe the dark hair gave me. I thought it made me look cooler and distanced me from my natural appearance. That damn appearance of my father!
“I like my hair black,” I said, stopping her from pinching my cheek by holding her hand in mid-air.
“You’ve grown so much, Josiah. You used to cling to my lap, and now you won’t even let me give you a hug?” she complained, pretending to whimper. “Just because you’re seventeen?”
I smiled, suddenly getting up and planting a kiss on that made-up cheek. My mom was beautiful. My friends loved to say she was a “hot mom,” and I told them to fuck off, but in the end, I wasn’t that mad. I really thought she was a looker...
“I hope you didn’t get that black stuff on my hair!” she complained, pretending to be mad. “Now, sit down; I’m not finished yet.”
I obeyed, pulling my phone out of the pocket of my deep-dark khaki shorts and seeing a message from Bernardo pinging on the notifications. I knew he would respond soon since I told him I met a girl on the bus ride back from school.
“Hey, did the girl at least give you her number?”
“No. But she lives here in the condo, on Fourth Street.”
“Was she in class today, Jow?”
“Yes, man! She was with that girl with the red hair, the one who’s always cursing everyone.”
“Oh, the girl with curly hair, with a serious vibe?”
“Don’t fuck with me! I found her really hot. I want to ask Ana out. Give me a tip for a cool place…”
“Ah, I don’t know…”
Typing...
Damn it! Even though my friend was a sensitive guy, I wasn’t sure if Bernardo was the best option to give me advice.
That girl wouldn’t get out of my head. Why? Every time I closed my eyes, I could see those dimples deepening as she smiled. I saw her blushing when I made a joke about touching myself in the shower. I was thinking so much about that goddess with brown hair that I could almost feel her sliding over my body as she hurried off the bus.
Damn it! Ana seemed so young… I would burn in hell for actually having completed my plans in the shower!
The girl was in her junior year! Surely she wasn’t that much younger than me… But I had to go slow, even if my perverted thoughts were driving me crazy.
But I was sure of one thing: I would ask her out! I would do everything to have more moments staring into those eyes that were almost the color of honey, that round and provocative mouth. I would get to experience that nice coconut scent that emanated from her huge, beautiful hair as she brushed past me on the bus.
“Mom…” I called, taking my eyes off the messages with my best friend.
“Yes, Jow!”
“I met a girl here in the condo…” I said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from my black shorts pocket.
I was anxious just thinking about Ana, about asking her out, and I started shaking my leg.
“What’s this?” she shouted, grabbing the pack of cigarettes from my hands. “No smoking in my presence…”
“Calm down, ‘Ms. Trouble’!” I teased, ducking out of her reach, getting pinched twice on the right arm.
“Anyway, continue… You met a girl from the condo?” she asked, with a tone of excitement, her mood suddenly changing.
“Yes, her name is Ana. She’s in my class, lives on Fourth Street with Aunt Marina and…”
“Ana Oliveira?” she asked, incredulous. “A chubby, somewhat short girl with curly hair?”
“That’s her…” I confirmed, suspiciously.
I could feel Marta’s fingers were much tenser on my hair, and my mom was pulling the strands with some force as she sectioned them to dye.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get close to that girl, son…” she advised.
Her voice was like one of those waves crashing on the beach that we think are small but slam forcefully when they hit the sand.
“What do you know about her?”
“She was in a psychiatric clinic…” she confessed, taking a deep breath. I felt her taking off the gloves and throwing them in the blue utility room trash can. “She attempted suicide several times, and once, an ambulance rushed here to the condo…”
Damn it! I felt my body stiffening, a cold shiver running down my damn back. How did I never know about such a story? She seemed so sweet and shy, staring at me during class. I saw her peripherally, leaning against the classroom wall, completely obsessed and fixated on me the whole time.
It couldn’t be! She was so beautiful while I was tossing her jokes, giving light smiles…
“Are you sure, Mom? Who told you this?”
“About the suicide? Everyone here in the condo knows, but Helena was the one who told me the reason.”
“And what was the motive?”
“She says her parents committed suicide together. They drove their car in front of a truck carrying gasoline,” she said, taking a deep breath and with a sorrowful look as she washed her hands under the water faucet, with the light sneaking slyly through the glass window above the utility sink reflecting on her face. “I felt so sorry! The girl is only sixteen and already orphaned, and in such a manner…”
Sixteen years old!
“And why did Ana’s parents kill themselves?”
“I have no idea.”
“Helena is a gossip queen. Not even to know the whole story…” I muttered.
My mom gave a slight laugh, grabbing a cotton ball with some stinky liquid and starting to clean my forehead.
Poor Docinho… I felt a strange thing in my chest, like something was gripping my heart and squeezing it. I thought about those shy eyes discovering that her parents had left her, and in such a heavy way.
Did she feel alone?
Did she have friends?