GUENTEMALLA PT 1.
2171 Words
Eve’s POV.
“Where will you go first when you reach Guentemalla?”
Xavier asked me when he was seeing me off. I couldn’t answer at the moment, but as for now, I am pretty sure my literature class is what I want to see at the moment. Thanks to the city place, I got to the location earlier.
“Hello?” The receptionist greeted. “How can I help you?” She asked with a broad smile.
He took my hand and walked into the gallery. I have never been to a gallery before. paintings you can never imagine are made by normal people.
“So, what’s all of this?” I asked in between the narrations of different paints.
“Before I answer that, may I know if you are a painter or an author?”
“None.”
He looked down at the moment and his face lit up in another minute. “Well, if you find this place boring, you can just mention it.”
“I love books and…” the other thing I like is actually paintings. I can’t let him win anyway. “Just books.” I watched him breaking as I said that. Can’t help laughing at that.
“What’s funny?”
“You are too easy.”
“That’s an assault.” He frowned.
“Whatever you call it.” My eyes went back to the pictures. “What made you think I'd be interested in these?”
“Ah! Your home screens.”
“What?” looking perplexed. I set a picture of a woman with a bucket on her head, a baby in her back and firewood wrapped in a piece of clothing, hanging in her left hand. “How did you?”
A grin grew on his face at the question. “I was behind you at the museum. You just happened to watch time and I saw it.”
It was my turn to chuckle. How long was he behind me? “Who else would put that as a wallpaper?”
“Congratulations.” That came out before I gave it some thought. He just smiled and we kept on walking to the other picture.
“I am born to paint. There’s no point in life if I can’t paint.”
“I have never met someone as determined as you are.” I am totally being honest right now. I have never met an author or an artist earlier.
“What do you do for life?” He asked out of the blue.
“Studying literature.” I’d rather be killed than admit I am a student.
“But you are just beginning.” He caught me off guard, not convinced at all.
I shrugged. “Reading books.”
“You must be lying.” He grimaced, his eyes shifting in between the pictures on the wall and me.
I exhaled. “I don’t even know you.”
He nodded, agreeing to my point of why he can not know what I am doing for life.
I yawned. My mind reminded me I was running out of energy. “Apology accepted anyway. I’ll take a taxi to my place. Let’s call this a night.”
“Don’t you want to know me?” He asked as I passed him on my way out.
“You refused to say in the first place,” I said, scoffing.
“May I know you then, at least your name?”
I grinned. “ Maybe if we meet again.” And walked to the door.
He rushed to me, and took me by my hand. “Let me take you home then.”
“I am a new student, literature courses.” I grinned at the sound of literature.
“You are very welcome Miss.” Looking through her files. “Found them.” She said, taking out a black file. I went through some papers in it and finally took out few papers. Handing me one. “You’ll have to go with this. Go through it, and when you are ready, you will make all the necessary payments, then…” Taking out another form. “You will fill in this form, bring it back here with your slips and you’ll start classes immediately.”
“Ah!” Xavier handed me the filled from and the slips. Luckily, I took them with me. Fetch my bag and hand everything back to her.
“I think I am through all the procedures.”
Her grin pasted on her face; she scanned the documents with her eyes. “That’s awesome then. Have you decided on your studying hours?”
“Nope.” I didn’t if Xavier didn’t do it for me.
She handed me another paper with session hours and “When would you like to take the classes?”
Ah! Studying at the noon might turn me into a geek. I can’t explore the new city well in the night time either. “From 08:00pm.”
“Night owl.” She said, giving me a sheepish look. I grinned back and she typed something on her computer. And her eyes were back to me. “Congratulations. Your classes will start on Monday, 08:00 pm here.”
“Can I keep this?” The schedule. And she nodded yes. “Thank you.” I said, staffing the paper in my bag and walk outside.
Walking down the streets sounded like a good idea. I might have a long boring day planning on what to do this weekend before starting my night classes, as well as knowing what I will be doing in the afternoon.
A coffee shop begged me to come in. I walked in with no hesitation.
“Cappuccino please.”
“Here.” The lady offered in a few minutes. I paid and made myself comfortable in the corner. I unlocked my phone to see a new email from Xavier.
It has all the dates I will be here the activities I will be doing each and every day. I smiled. How did he know I'd be bored and lost in this new city? The schedule wanted me to visit the museum today, where there will be traditional dancing and singing. He must have forgotten to tell me about that event. Which I assume he wanted me to suffer in figuring out what to put one.
I remember him giving me an invitation card and asking me to be his secretary. He was supposed to kindly ask me a favor to go to an event on his behalf, rather than sending me there as his secretary.
“May I have a seat?” A masculine voice interrupted my attention from the phone. I looked around, expecting to see the place full of people.
“There are lots of empty seats,” I said, turning back to him with a flat look. He didn’t wait for the answer, he was comfortable right in front of me already.
“Ah! That was rude. Aren’t you supposed to be nice to strangers?”
He must be stubborn, isn’t he? “ Who are you?”
“Too early for the question.” He grinned; I was confused. What would make a fine man like him so rude? Too bad I am not in the mood to talk to new rude people. I rolled my eyes, placed my phone back in the bag and walked away. “Hey…” He called but I didn’t bother to look back. He was about to piss me off. Hope I’ll never see him ever again.
My phone rang, an unknown caller’s ID flashed. I didn’t hesitate to pick it up.
“Hello?” I called
“Good evening. You are talking to Mr. Mena. You must be Miss Mosa? Mr. Moore’s secretary?”
It must be something serious to be assumed as his secretary. “That’s me.”
“Mr. Xavier Moore asked me to take you to the museum. I have your location. I’ll be there in thirty minutes if that’s okay with you.”
“Okay.” I hung up. Do I have to act like a politician? Mafia’s Secretary? Why the hell didn't he tell me about this? I get so confused, especially when I remember I can’t reach him until he calls me first.
The museum is full of rich people, many of them being people of importance in the country. It must a national festival or something near to that. I wonder how Xavier managed to get me here. We were all listening to the man who elaborated everything our eyes laid on. Describing how everything is treasury, the history everything there holds.
Everyone looked excited and interested. Except for me, who was both bored and interested at the same time.
After the man was done explaining, he led all of us to the hall, each grabbed a drink at the door and comfortably sat. I kept on watching people telling stories to each other. I came alone here, knowing no one, just talking to the inner me.
A person of certain importance, I assume, asked the music off and grabbed the attention of everyone in the hall. A grin on his face reflected how excited he was at the moment.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the dance…” The drum beatings started as soon as he said that. My eyes lit up a little as the light went off and the drum kept on.
Smoke filled the stage and a few lights were on, people invaded the stage in the craziest way I’ve ever imagined. The crowd applauded.
The team of dancers looked happy on the stage. They were all in Makenzi shirts and shorts. Making it hard to differentiate men and women, unless you concentrate on the chest.
They started dancing and singing, mixing different languages, some I can understand and most of them I didn’t know what they were singing.
“Looks like the show is boring to you.” A man’s voice said from beside me. I was too focused on the performance to notice when he got there.
I turned out to be sure he was talking to me. Seeing him grinning was an assurance that he was actually talking to me. I sipped a little from my glass. “Is that a question?” I asked.
“Nope. I just want confirmation that what I said is true.”
His voice sounded familiar with the man’s voice at the coffee shop. I scanned his face once again.
“Have we met earlier?” My face was full of concern. Is he important in the country like everyone else here? He looks ordinary to me. He smiled. “My apologies for being rude to you earlier.”
I couldn’t stop myself from smirking. “Apology accepted.”
His eyes back on the stage. “The show was disappointing to me. I was on my way out when I spotted you. If it’s fine with you, may I properly apologize to you?”
“What an approach?” My mind forced me to show my admiration of his spectacular way of approach. He chuckled “If the show is boring to you too, allow me.”
“You sound like a total Dutch right now.”
“I assume you are talking about Dutch you have seen in the movie. We real Dutch are quite gentle than them.”
He was quite impressive I had to admit. Failed miserably to say no for him to take me out of there. Not caring I am new here and It is dark as hell out there.
He led me to his car. I slid in without asking where we were actually heading in the night.
“I saw you at Guentemalla University of Literature this afternoon.” He broke the silence after a long drive to God knows where.
“Is that why you followed me to the coffee shop?” My eyes narrowed at the question.
He chuckled out of the blue. “You would address me as a Stalker if I had done that.”
“How did you…”
“To keep a long story short. I was interested to know why a young lady like you is interested in literature.”
“That sounds crazy and stupid.”
He chuckled again. “Driving down the streets, I saw you at the shop and I thought maybe I'd figure it out by approaching you personally. Failing to approach you, I gave up. And boom, you are right in front of me at the museum.”
The story wasn’t convincing at all. It sounded dull to me. At least he noticed that with the roll of my eyes.
The car was parked in front of a gallery. I scoffed. “Taking me from the history gallery to another modern gallery?”
“Yap. Except this is more interesting than that.” He spoke assuredly, dropping to open the door for me.
- Writer
