Don't try to Escape

Chapter 2 - Part I & II

He points at the box in my hands with his head, and he looks down, embarrassed.

"Sam, I don't know what to say," my voice cracks.

I take the watch out of the box. This watch is identical to my father's. My fingers run delicately over it, looking for something that I don't know what it is, maybe for my father. Its wristband is made of leather, and the display is beige, it looks like parchment. The numbers are giant and covered by golden spiral scribbles that, together, resemble a flower. Between them, it's written "Raqueta" in bold. Their hands are brown, and it ticks 02:40. I wind the watch on the right side of the display, and it comes to life. Exactly the way I remembered. Sam just observes the scene.

"I didn't know if it was a good idea, I thought it over," he accommodates himself. "This could bring you bad memories."

"You don't know what you're talking about," I say looking to the watch. "You don't..." I take a deep breath, I don't want to cry.

I look at Sam, and I try to a way to make him understand how this gesture was important to me. He returns the gaze, looking for any kind of reaction from me. I don't have many things that remind me of my father, besides the children's books he read for me; this watch reminds me of his happy face, when I thought I was smart for winding the clock, and of his laugh, his awkward hug. Taking care of a child by himself was never easy, even more to a girl. I was the first daughter of the parents, and as my mother died from cancer, my father had no idea about how to take care of me. But he did a great job. I turn my attention to the watch, and, with the right hand, I straighten it on the left wrist. I fasten the buckle and stretch my arm to look at the watch. It's loose on me, and it seems to swallow my wrist.

"I can tight the..."

"It's great," I interrupt him.

He looks at me with concern.

"It's perfect, Sam." I feel so much affection for him, and he was very thoughtful for buying something so meaningful to me.

Being loved for someone this way, even after being hated by many people, make me feel the way I may not deserve.

I stand up from the chair and let the watch box fall. Without giving any importance to it, I wrap my arms around Sam, who remains sat. I don't lean down much, because he is very tall. Caught by surprise, he stills a bit, but he quickly returns the hug.

"Thanks, I loved the present."

He wraps his arms around my waist, and his face sticks to my neck.

"You're welcome. This watch is also for you to remind me. In case I need to travel, you know..."

"Are you going to travel again? "I raise my voice.

He just arrived, and he is going to be away from me again? I didn't know that I missed having someone around until he came to live here. I don't want to be alone.

"Why?" Sam unwraps his arms off me and holds my waist with his hands, caressing my hips. "Will you miss me?"

The heat of his hands warms my body; it's such a familiar feeling and, at the same time, so new.

"You know I will, I didn't understand your question," I breathe heavily.

"I like to know what you think, that's new for me," he smiles. "I'm not going to travel. Not that soon."

"That's great news," I breathe, relieved. "But don't brag yourself that much, these airs of a Parisian model are annoying me," I joke.

"What?" he gets in the game by pretending he is offended.

"I'm serious. You've been too stuck up since you arrived," I step back.

He holds my waist tight and doesn't let me go.

"Is it true, lady?" he opens a naughty smile. "I'm going to provide you I an exclusive box so that you can let your complaints with me.

I laugh, and I hug him again. His body is so warm.

"Look at you. You're speaking like a bourgeois," I complain, and he laughs. "Thanks again for the watch. That was really important to me," I turn away.

My body gets cold as I lose contact with his body.

"Next time, I'll bring a keyring to avoid this girly moment," he says getting up from the bed.

He opens and closes his hands without knowing what to do with them. He's feeling shy. His reaction looks funny, but I understand it. He's not familiar with me expressing affection. He's an open book here, not me.

"Now you're starting to make jokes? Where is angry Samwel?

I get the box and the wrapping that is thrown on the floor and put them over the lilac bedspread.

"Watch out. You don't want to tease me," Sam says in a warning tone while leaves the room.

I set the time in my new watch and go straight to the kitchen. I stop by the door of the "Blue Room", and I try not to react to the mess all over. Clothes, shoes, wrappings, books, medicines; maybe even someone drowned in the middle of this apocalypse.

"New decoration?"

"I think I've lost some documents, I can't find them anywhere."

Sam looks at the opened pieces of baggage on the bed, desolated.

"Do you need some help to set those things up?"

I give one step forward, getting into the room and I look around without knowing where to start

"Yes, I guess I'll need some help."

He passes/puts his hands through his short hair and opens a timid smile. His white teeth contrast beautifully with his red lips. I've seen women being on their knees for that smile.

"You need professional help. Are you sure that there's no one dead in there?"

He leans to look at that sea of things on the floor and shakes his head.

"No, I don't think so."