waiting for the orchestra to start playing: "Mira" he said, I lower my hand under the table and click clack! he triggered a sharp switchblade.
"If you don't love me, I'll kill myself.*" he said. A few dances together, some chattering in stilted Spanish certainly could not deserve the Muerte per Amore**: believing he was joking, I smiled at him.
"Don't laugh," said Manolito, furiously emphasizing the "r," "I'm serious" and he hit the blade against the leg of the table. "If you don't love me, I'll kill myself. Right now."
Ouch, I thought, moving my chair a little. He wants to kill himself right now. I looked around, but everyone was trivially busy: the passengers chatted and joked, the waiters came and went, the orchestra was playing and I was there alone and helpless in the face of Death.
"Look at me." Manolito ordered me. And with piercing eyes like blades of Toledo: "If you don't love me, I'll kill myself. Do you understand? I'll kill myself. Do you love me?"
Really nice mess. If to avoid death, I said I loved him, who could guess what he would have demanded of me. "Oh Manolito..." I said with a sigh, moving the chair a little more. "I would be sad if you killed yourself. Maybe... who knows... let me think... will you call me?" and I tried to get up, without success.
Manolito, still looking at me, snapped the knife shut and put it back in his pocket. Relieved, I gave a hint of a smile but Manolito's distrustful gaze made me serious again. "Soul of my soul" he said in a dark voice and grabbing my waist I got up from my chair and was dragged onto the dance floor.
We danced and danced, entwined. He accompanied me, exhausted, to the door of the cabin where my mother continued to read unaware and: "Don't forget: you are my love" he said.
* spoken in Spanish
** death for love
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