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Authors: Santiago Gamboa

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BOOK: Necropolis
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Two weeks later we saw the movie and laughed our heads off. Neither Giorgetta nor I had ever seen our vaginas on screen, let alone from such daring angles. The name of the movie was Home Delivery, and, from what Petra told us, Dimitros managed to sell it quite well, so the next week we got down to work again. Before introducing the new actor to us, Dimitros got us together and gave us a little speech, saying, the porn world is going through a great revolution and it's necessary to meet its demands, which means there are some changes in this new production, beginning with the actor I'm about to introduce to you and who, I hope, will be to your liking, girls, and I said, what's with all the mystery, Dimitros? and he said, it's just that, you know, the buyers really liked the performances and the artistic shots, but they also said, it's a very white movie, not very politically correct, Dimitros, how about something African, of exceptional size? and well, darlings, that's what I did, and now I have the pleasure to introduce Clarence, a son of post-revolutionary Liberia, and with a theatrical gesture he opened the door and brought him in, a man of about thirty-five, quite strong and well preserved, with a broad smile and bulging eyes, who said, hello, shyly, without looking us in the eyes, which made me immediately want to be his friend, so I stood up and gave him a kiss on the cheek, hello, how are you, it's going to be a pleasure to work with you, and he returned the compliment. Giorgetta greeted him less effusively, and then we started reading the scripts, it took us a while to learn our parts while Dimitros and his crew prepared the shots and arranged the lights. When we went to the bathroom to give ourselves our little shot to calm us down, Giorgetta said to me, are you going to have sex with the black guy? and I said, well, I don't know if that'll be me, in the script it only says I have sex with First Man, but if it's me I'll do it. Giorgetta didn't think the idea was right, and said, don't you think they ought to pay us more to have sex with a black man? and I said, don't talk crap, all human beings are the same, but she said, if we're talking about the soul or the spirit maybe yes, but not the dick, black men have huge dicks, you'll see. I tried not to take any notice and said, don't think about that, we're built to take any man.

Giorgetta never forgot that day, she probably still remembers it, because what with talking to me and taking her shot she forgot to sit on the toilet and empty her rectum, so in the first anal scene with the African, when he withdrew an avalanche emerged from her orifice, drawn out by the suction, which was all the bigger because of the size of his cock, which really was king size. There was a loud laugh and Giorgetta gave a scream. Clarence was covered from head to foot and had to take a shower. The cameraman, who had been filming in close-up, spent an hour cleaning his glasses and his camera with sponges and cotton balls, while Giorgetta was in the bathroom, hysterical with shame.

What happened next was that Giorgetta, who, as you will have already noted, had a certain tendency to fall into the abyss, started to take more than she should in the syringe before filming and one day the scandal broke, when Vidiadar, the Pakistani actor, stopped the scene and said to Dimitros, look, how can I work with a woman like this? I'd feel more heat if I stuck my dick into a gimlet. Dimitros cursed, because delays cost him money, and went up to Giorgetta. He noticed that her eyes were open and her mouth was emitting moans, but her brain was as far away as the rings of Jupiter. So he lost his temper and said, you fucking junkie, how dare you come to the set like that? I have nothing against the fact that you fill your brains with shit, but if you want to continue with me you have to be clean, do you understand? the streets of this old continent are filled with cunts begging for an opportunity to get into movies, so think about it, that's if you're even listening, is there anybody in there? I had to take Giorgetta to the bedroom.

The next day, Dimitros brought in a Romanian named Saskia to replace her and as a punishment put Giorgetta with the fluffers, the girls who are on the set to suck the actors' cocks before they go on and leave them erect or arouse them in case their tools undergo a sudden shrinkage. It was that night, after the fight, that I told myself for the first time: you have to give up drugs.

My cousin stayed on in Paris, but sank into one of her heavy depressions. She tried to contact the family of the mentally ill guy to offer her services, but when they saw her they almost slammed the door in her face, because she was in an awful state, so one day I said to her, listen to me, I'm giving you a week to get your things together and leave, I know you have nobody but it's time you got a grip on yourself, I've done what I could. Giorgetta cried and told me I hated her and had always envied her and wanted to destroy her, but I said, Giorgetta, you're the destructive one, you're the one who wears out the people who protect you, do you know Murphy's Law? well, you're one of the people Murphy's Law was invented for, any situation you find yourself in, if you can make it worse, you will, and you drag the people closest to you down with you, which in this case means me, I'm just as young and inexperienced as you and just as hooked and alone, but I have a tremendous desire to live and succeed, so you have to understand, I'm not asking you to disappear, but I am asking you to let me breathe a little, I need to think and I can only do that when I'm alone, Giorgetta, don't hate me for this, goodbye.

Giorgetta left and I spent three days in the hospital, beside Kay, who was my source of consolation, and I told myself, I have to be good for when my love wakes up. I decided to go into detox. The heroin had protected me over the past year, but now things had turned around and I was its hostage. I got up courage and went to a rehab center. I assume everyone knows what detox is, so I shan't expand. It's a painful experience, which you remember only vaguely, because the brain blots most of it out as a defense mechanism. Nobody likes to hoard horrible images or such extreme feelings of pain, as if a thin knife slashed right through all the nerves in your body, which becomes your main enemy, that body you become tremendously aware of because every pore in it is screaming, and so the minutes and the hours pass, with all the slowness of pain, and you know that at the end of time, there in the distance, behind a chain of Himalayas and on an invisible horizon, is that morning when you slough off your old, sick skin and your body wakes up and your blood flows clean and you can go out because you've been reborn, that's the challenge, there are those who can't stand it and their brains melt, they blow a few fuses, and they are the former addicts who wander the world with a stupid smile and dribble hanging from their lips.

That didn't happen to me, because I hadn't been addicted for long. I suffered unspeakable pain but came out the other side, unharmed. When I felt well, I called Dimitros and he immediately hired me again, this time for a shoot in Brussels. I liked the idea of traveling so I agreed and it was a great experience. I got to know some Hungarian actors and two very pretty Russian girls, who looked so innocent you'd have thought they were virgins, an impression, obviously, that I forgot when I saw them sucking cocks as if they were eating candies and cream. It was a very professional session, from which I returned with four thousand euros in cash. Then, in the hospital, I told Kay all about the horrors of detox and I said in his ear, you don't know how lucky you are to have been spared that, when you wake up you'll be fine, your body will be as clean as a baby's.

I also told him about the filming of Vixens in Heat, which was the name of the latest Eve Studios production. I said: you'll get along very well with Dimitros and Petra, they're fantastic and make a great team. We could work together, you're a terrific photographer and, you know, during filming they take photographs, that way they generate more income. It would be a brilliant deal and we'd be together, what do you think, my love? But Kay was still silent, breathing softly. Suddenly the room filled with shadows and I went to the window to watch night fall. The city was drifting like a bank of seaweed toward the brightly lighted cafés. It was Saturday. I felt nostalgic for a normal life. I missed what I had, in fact, only experienced with the man lying by my side.

I carried on working and the year ended. I traveled to shoots in Budapest and Prague, and once in London, and the fees were always good, because Eve Studios was doing very well, Dimitros and Petra and other girls like Laura and Saskia and Valérie and Delphine, and guys like Bruno and Anatoli and Hervé and Alec, who worked on most of the movies, were becoming my family. One day the telephone rang and when I answered I almost fell to the floor with emotion. It was the magazine Hot Vision, asking if I would agree to an interview. They had seen Vixens in Heat and seven other Eve movies and thought I had a lot of talent. I put down the telephone, feeling really moved. I had an appointment with them at the Banana Café in Châtelet the next day. I couldn't believe it. Hot Vision was the best known magazine of its kind in France and every two years awarded the Golden Hot, a prize for the best porn actress. Of course that was a dream, but an interview opened the doors to a possible nomination, oh, I felt so happy that I went with Alec and Delphine to the Casbah Bar and drank a bottle of champagne all by myself. They were all happy about the news and we celebrated in style, until seven in the morning, which confirmed, in passing, that my body was cured, because I didn't feel at any moment the desire to snort.

The next day—in terms of perception, because it was actually the same day—I got up at three in the afternoon. I still had two hours before the appointment with Hot Vision so I emptied the closet trying to choose what to wear. Delphine had slept over at my place so she was there to help, thank God, and in the end we decided on a combination of garter belts, navy blue nylon stockings, and a shimmery silk dress of the same color, an extremely light outfit that, according to Delphine, brought out my strong personality and a melancholy eroticism. The makeup session lasted forty minutes and at four-thirty exactly we went out on the landing to call the elevator, both nervous and dying of laughter. As the elevator door opened, I heard the telephone ring in the apartment. Delphine said, leave it, you'll be late, but I said, I'll only be two seconds, what if they're calling to cancel or change the appointment? I opened the door and said, hello? who is it? It was the hospital. Kay had woken up.

I collapsed. I was speechless.

A mixture of fear and happiness swept through my body, like some strange contrast liquid. Delphine had come in behind me and when she saw me on the floor she screamed. After a few minutes I got my breath back. I had to make a decision. Delphine went to the Banana Café in my place and I ran to the hospital. What I had waited for for so long had just happened and now I was scared, is he all right? will he remember me? I got to the room and saw him, he had his eyes open. He looked at me and an expression of doubt came over his face, but then he said, Sabina? and burst into tears. I kneeled beside him, kissed his hand, and thanked God. He had come back, and he remembered me. He was alive. The world had started turning again for the two of us.

The first thing he asked was, why are you dressed like that? I told him that I had made myself beautiful for him, but he didn't seem to believe me. I explained that it was by chance and that I had to bring him up to date with everything. There have been many changes, darling, things are going very well for us now, you'll see. He still had to spend another week in the hospital, for tests, and the best thing was that there were no serious lesions in the brain. The only thing he had lost was the sense of taste; things tasted neutral, like cardboard or a blank page, that was how he described it. He could bear the fact that he couldn't enjoy food, but what he found very sad was that he could no longer savor the taste of my body. But he was alive and remembered everything.

Gradually I told him what had happened during the year he had been absent. About my addiction and subsequent detox, and the main reason I told him all this was to dissuade him from falling victim to heroin again. He didn't feel the need, his body was cured, but in his mind he remembered the pleasure and the sense of calm. All the same, he didn't relapse, and after his “rebirth” he stayed clean. With time, of course, we did do other drugs, but nothing really serious. Coke, to hold up under the relentless pace of the work, and sometimes hashish to fight stress. We did, though, drink rather a lot. It's really hard to live in this rotten world without having at least one damn vice, given how hard and inhospitable reality can be, but anyway, let me carry on with my story. Kay quickly got used to my work. Once he had gotten over the blow of that thing with Petra, which he barely remembered anyway, he started to work in the photographic department of Eve Studios, which was no longer based in that dirty building in Belleville, but had taken over a large apartment near the Opéra, almost thirteen hundred feet of studios and offices.

We left the apartment on Rue Oberkampf and moved into a more spacious, light-filled one on Rue Pascal, in the vicinity of Boulevard Arago and Place des Gobelins, which meant that on Sundays we could go to the little market on Rue de la Contrescarpe and eat oysters and drink Chablis and read the newspapers, which was one of Kay's great pleasures. Kay had opinions and ideas on everything that happened in the world. Thanks to him, I stopped being some kind of selfish animal who only cared about acting and making money. Thanks to him and all those newspapers I became aware that the world had a lot wrong with it and that the bad things that happened to other people could happen to me one day. That was what I thought as I listened to Kay commenting on the news, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, terrorism, all the victims of violence, in other words, reality in all its glory. I really took notice of what he said, but at the same time I thought to myself, it's curious, when I was on the floor, like a fallen gladiator about to receive the fatal spear, who cared about me? Nobody, I went through that ordeal alone, and I say alone because calling my cousin Giorgetta company would be like giving a human identity to bedbugs and lice: the lice I sometimes got, in those first movies, from my partenaires on the set. The world is cruel to small things, and I was one; a weak flame that needed to be kept alive by protecting hands and could only become a substantial fire with a great deal of effort and sacrifice.

BOOK: Necropolis
10.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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