Chapter 2 Salvador

Yesterday upon the stair
I saw a man that wasn't there
He wasn't there again today
How I wish he'd go away. (by Oscar Wilde)

Ever experienced a relationship that lasted for one night only?
Be aware, relationship, nothing physical, don't take it wrongly.

How did I meet Salvador? Well, in London, you can meet any kind of person you want--in a club. You can even have options like middle-aged gentlemen wearing suits if you like. But that would be quite another scene.

Anyway, that night, rather unusual that I went clubbing with no friends. That's somehow not a smart thing to do. You see, in London, go to club looking for one night stand had been outdated. It was more a place friends getting together, having music and pills, and some nice time. Going to club alone, regardless of how strange it was, people would suspect: what is this chap after?

Nothing really. It was simply a night trying to have a place to stay. Besides, given the backlash towards gay community in the UK, the number of clubs were reduced, so you could always expect yourself bumping into some one you know. I met a few that night. But with the effect of the pills I lied on a couch and rested. That was one of my personal habbit. You see, people always think that those who go clubbing are either looking for drugs or sex, or both. But in fact, that's because people know not how to live with things instead of depending on things. Of course drugs get you high, but to depend on it means to be bereaved of all possibilites of enjoying it. Things you own end up owning you. Whenever in club, I tried not to bother others, just enjoy myself. And I found one of the things I enjoy in clubs was being alone. It's funny that in the day time when most of us seem to have all the time in our hands we still could not be with ourselves, but at night in a club full of people eager for all sorts of things I can find a place of my own and successfully be undisturbed.
What do I do when I was alone? Well, lots of things are going on. Most of us have unfinished business, and these business need to be taken care of. Being alone is a way of taking care of myself for me.

So I lied on the couch, eyes closed, so tired as if I was going to fall asleep. But I didn't. Another thing about drug, it's something you don't actually need to live but something that could possiblly make you live differently, at least see life in a different way. One's condition would be encouraged to emerge with drug's effects. So when one is physically lonely, one search for bodies. When one is psychologically lonely, one search for company. I always was with myself in that situation, because it was me that I needed. I was the centre of the world.

Somebody leaned her back against my arms. I opened my eyes, seeing a beautiful sight of one's back. I closed my eyes again, remaining silent. The girl started chatting with someone sitting in front of her, and I can hear the voice low and hoarse, kind of sexy. I once again opened my eyes, finding that she was staring at me defiantly. What a direct seduction, and she looked comely. But I so wanted to feel myself that only her warm, soft back leaning on my arms would be pleasant enough.

That, was when Salvador came in.
Salvador, a person whose look would not be popular in the London gay scene I asure you. Round belly, face un-shaved, strong but not in style, and manly. It's not that gays are not manly, but there was always a kind of subtlety, gayly in a word. But Salvador didn't have that. He looked just like a normal heterosexual man. That's why when he asked I sort of worried I was gonna get beat.

"Are you boy and girl friends?" asked he, smiling carefully. Out of a strange, unnecessary courtesy, I said "no, we've just met."
What happened next was not within my expectation. Salvador simply joined us on the couch, but in fact, he was intruding between me and the girl and seperated us. And, even more surprisingly, he turned to me, not the girl, and started asking things. "Well, don't worry about her, she's just a kid," that was all he said.
From Salvador I knew that they were among a group of friend, others including the girl were Brazilians, but Salvador himself is a Portuguese.
"Are you gay?" he asked. One sees that question coming in London's club, well, if you are not that gay. There are other question for you if you are obviously one.
"No."
"No? Then what are you doing here?" he kept asking me, with that curious smile on his face.
"Well, there's no rule that gay only can come in a club, is there?" Smile stayed. "Besides, it's nice being here."
"I know, and..." he caught up with the subject, and we talked more.

It's something interesting that when I really feel comfortable with someone, I could not remember what we really talked about or did together. All I knew was that when leaving the club, we exchanged mobile numbers.

He texted me very soon. I was in bed, rejected his invitation, but asked whether it was possible to meet up another day. So we met two days later. Evening, Leicester Squar. The night had come and people walking excitedly.

"You have a sense of feather," he said. "Not like some gays, sissy. You look straight but you have a kind of velvet in you," he continued. "That's what I like about you."
We kept on talking all night, about all sort of things. Relationships, life, work, London, home country, architecture, literature. I had not talked to a person like that in a long time. Maybe it's because of his sincerity, or maybe that he disclosed no attempt at sex, I don't know. "I used to fuck around," he said, "but I stopped. Somehow I realised what I want is a relationship. Some one you would always be happy to be with."
He was married to a girl from somewhere in East Europe, so she could get the right of residence in EU. Oh, right, she was a lesbian. "I loved her," he said, "but there are things we don't get alone. It's not just a visa marriage, but it still worked out badly."
As much as I enjoyed his company, I still can't remember much of our talks, only the merry feeling. It was just like brothers finally seeing each other after years of separation, but more than that.
"Why do you stay in London?" I asked. You have do know, he'd stayed in London for more than ten years, without coming home for a single year.
"Well, you must know that western society is not as open-minded as you a Taiwanese imagine," he said. "All my family and my friends turned their backs on me when I told them that I am gay. I can't live with them," the bitterness in his smile is almost invisible, somehow I thought that was merely my imagination. He was from a family with aristocrat blood. "Here no one knows me, I can choose friends, friendly to me." I said nothing, just one week ago, a gay man was murdered in SoHo area, right next to Leicester Squar.

He walked me to my place. I saw him getting on the bus. It was him showing me how much fun it was to use bus in London. Ever since I rarely used the tube. What was even less considerable, I never had a chance to see him again. My mobile was gone few days later.

That night in central London, he told me that he was an HIV carrier, at the enchanting scene of the bank of River Thames. The best thing ever happened to him after discovering his own condition was that his boyfriend was not infected. He led a loner's life after that, for ten years. I think, with that night so marvellous, he should not possibly confuse me with those that alienated him only for his sexuality or disease. I still think of him sometimes, on the other side of the world. I think he's still alive, dancing in club, talking to girls cheering them, walking alone on the streets of London.