Catalina: I'm Watching A Man Kill Women | Teen Ink

Catalina: I'm Watching A Man Kill Women

January 28, 2024
By Paul_r_Romero, Newark, New Jersey
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Paul_r_Romero, Newark, New Jersey
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Author's note:

Ultimately, as the writer, this piece is an expression of fear, and dread. It comes at a very particular time in US politics, one with the culture war of the left and right leaving no corner of life not touched by its cinders. With that, and with previous years, there has been a prevailing trend of the strong willed minority. Are the beaten and down trodden of this world like the legendary warriors of yore? or the nameless soot covered soldiers of the mandatory draft?

The author's comments:

I hope you like the moons I added

The faint asphalt heat, still humidity, two light sources competing for attention: July's high moon and red-blue alarms. Summer’s heat has only intensified the sea stench of the docks by the highway. It was the hottest night by record but I was ice. Just behind my car the police officer questioned. I turned my head to peer out the back window, not moving a single unnecessary muscle. I caught Catalina’s gaze. I remember the long flowing azure blue dress she wore, I thought it made her float. I must’ve seemed petrified because Catalina mumbled something that confidently said “we’ll be alright Alex”. It should’ve worked, but just then the officer whispered into his walkie-talkie. No! I snapped my head back to position and gripped the steering wheel waiting to be pried. I knew we shouldn't have–This was stupid! And now Catalina’s g–

The heavy and hammer-like bang of a police car door. My apprehension floated up as steam into the sweltering night. I emerged from my car to stare into the officer’s cabin. I remember her pearl skin, luminous under the pale moonlight.

The car roared to life, and snarled as it stalked past. I caught her eye again, she mumbled the same as last. I continued to stare, until it hung low again in the horizon.

🌙

In 6th grade, Catalina did this amazing presentation for our summer reading. I remember the name of the book but I read it cover to cover. She always seemed to glow after a good presentation, and she glowed ever more when I talked to her about the book. 

 It began as fascination. I thought Catalina was weird, but in the 6th grader sense of anything being slightly off-kilter. Sometimes she was giddy for no reason, she hung out with girls, enthusiastic for school, friends with teachers (I can't defend that one), she gossiped. Unfortunately, others noticed.

It is now worth mentioning that Catalina was initially named Roberto. She had been born with the body of, and had lived as, a male. But that could not be sustained. Catalina described it as imagining a mirror and peeling at your skin. Because of this, she was excluded. Especially amongst the boys she was the recurring joke. It was somehow worse with the girls, she became a pet, less than a person, more of a character they had for the novelty of their cute little life, more of a caged zoo animal blinded by the flashing lights, cursed by the spectacle of their being. 

I take extreme offense to the idea that I befriended her for charity, but it was true. To some extent I felt pity. However, after so much time together, after forming identities together, our fates were fused. I was the first person she told when she knew, she was the first person whose arms I cried in, each of us were why the other felt like unchained wild animals some days.

🌙

I discreetly parked at the street’s corner and pretended not to notice Catalina’s house the way a sinner might a church.  I laid deep into my chair and stared at the silver blue moon gently peering over the horizon of a darkening sky. I fell asleep.

My slumber was ruined by the invasive flash of a camera light and the faint giggle of a certain blue dress, pixie-cut photographer. I opened my eyes and was forced to see my best friend in the whole world, shoving an embarrassingly HD picture of my unconscious face drooling. “Open the door” Catalina said through giggles as she further forced the picture upon my fragile psyche.

“So where are we going this time?” I ask as she buckles in.

“Uhhhhhh I'm not sure, I didn't really have a plan when I called you.”

“Then why'd you call to go out?”

“Just felt antsy y'know?”, she replied, “we actually gotta skip town in the dead of night and forge new identities”

I giggled, “Yeah.”

“…”

“So wanna gorge on junk food?”

“Absolutely.”

🌙

We both sauntered into the gas station convenience store as if it was ritual and meandered through the aisles while bickering, much to the tired cashier’s dismay.

“I don't get why I have to be here, it's a one woman job” Catalina said, straining as she overextended herself to reach the very back of the freezer rack where the “good stuff” was hidden.

“Because you hissed at me when I got the wrong flavor chips”

“Because you got the worst flavor. Hawaiian?! How does that even exist?” And then she started laughing, hard. Which would be embarrassing if I didn't also start laughing.

Unfortunately, I forgot my wallet. Catalina should've had her money but claimed a dress took precedence over pockets. As I walked back from my car, a sour-looking man began talking to Catalina. Honestly, for Catalina getting bothered by strangers, especially old male strangers, was nothing new. She seemed to handle it just as confidently mocking as ever. But as I walked in, hand still on the glass door, I saw her back turned, illuminated by the never-ending fluorescent lights, and she was gray. I blame it on the bulbs, but she reminded me of cracked marble. Until she turned her head, did a great pivot, stood by my side, and asked, “do you think they’d give us loyal customer discounts?”

🌙

The night got warmer as we lazed over my car watching the autobahn. The signage of the parking lot only slightly illuminating us and giving my car a slick sheen. Lone cars were shooting stars.

“But I heard it really opens up future jobs, and it's good for college apps’” I said over the infrequent brush of cars.

“Hey aren't you doing anything for apps’ over the summer?” I asked.

“Uhh well”, Catalina replied, “you know that–my parents probably wouldn't sign off”

I sat up, “I mean–I get it, like ‘get it’, but they don't want you to go to college? That's kind of a sudden decision for junior summer”

She began fiddling with the earlobes I pierced myself, “they just said with how ‘obscene’ I've been getting they don’t want me leaving for college and ‘getting worse’”, she mumble this next part, “I don't know how they’re gonna stop me but I guess they’re taking another crack at it”

“What? What do you mean ‘another crack’?”

“Like a…another retreat for a couple weeks”

I gave her an incredulous glare. 

“Like…a camp.”

I rose up, “A conversation camp?! When did this happen?!”

“Calm down, it was like two years ago–”

“You told me that was a retreat!”

“Jesus, calm down.” 

“How can I, I–I–I'm APPALLED. You didn't even tell me! We tell each-other everything!” I tried to stand in front of her but she turned her back to me indignantly, causing me to spy her bare lobes.

“And where are your earrings? You have them on every day, did they take them?”

She exploded to a sitting position and stared deep into my eyes, or beyond me, into the depths of the infinite night sky. A car shot by just fast enough to illuminate Catalina, and to see the glimpse of a ghost.

🌙 

We got in my car and left the breaks behind. 

🌙 

With a twist in my stomach, I parked in front of the white vinyl visage of Catalina’s house.

She whispered, “Wait for me, I just have to make sure I didn't leave the earrings out.”

“10 minutes, I’ll sneak in”, she opened the door and prepared to step out, “Actually I think I left out some hidden heels and makeup out too”

“Jesus dude!” I replied in an incredulous loud whisper.

Soon I just sat there, staring at the shimmering moon again. But as the minutes cracked and fell from the clock, my attention turned to the house. It was a stark white even in the dead of night. The vinyl pattern gave it such an unnatural uniformity. The two highest windows appeared as a face that seemed to in and through your skin as if it were a lie. And they looked through me, down to the still heart. 

How much longer? Did she get in? Is she safe? How can she be safe in there? Did they find the earrings? The make up? The heels? How many heels does she have anyway? Jesus they're gonna be so pissed. Are they really gonna send her away? Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't I know? I should've been able to tell. Has it been like this this whole time? I knew it was bad but—

I couldn’t sit there anymore. I let my apprehension become steam. I marched up to the picture-esque door hoping to prove myself the friend I thought I was. But as I reached, the front door exploded open. It shot out two people with Catalina swiftly cutting ahead of a stout man close behind. I was ice, pressing themself close to the wall hoping someone would thaw them out. 

The older man had a cantankerous expression, aged by sun and sweat. Catalina had nearly reached my car. She held a plethora of clothes, knickknacks, and even a tattered old grade school book bag turned secret makeup bag. She set her hand to open the car door, the man bellowed.

“HEMOS TRABAJADO TANTO. PERO NO TE IMPORTA, NUNCA DIGES CASO. ESTOS GRINGOS NOS VAN A HUMILLAR.” I looked through the entrance and up the stairs to see Catalina’s mother in her nightgown paralyzed, another chunk of ice. The man seethed and boiled, “YOU CANNOT ESCAPE, ROBERTO.” 

I stared at Catalina, now facing the man, her svelte frame eclipsing him. I stared back at the man. Only a moment later an engine roars into the night. Catalina, sitting in the driver’s seat, hand on ignition, one silver heel out, found silver earrings collecting moonlight like morning dew. Catalina, shimmering. I'm tempted to compare her to Artemis, or Selene the moon herself. And the car as her chariot. But I spied tremble, and a wounded animal sinking in tar.

🌙

The moon rose high. Catalina was a better driver than me, or was supposed to be at least. She taught me how to do a three-point turn, but the whites of her knuckles told me she was struggling to keep the car at bay. It wanted to fall back, but we needed to be shooting stars, and rip through orbit. We did not get far. Red-blue lights gripped the trunk. An iron voice called, “Roberto Hernandez, pullover.” Pale moonlight crept in through the front. In a dulcet tone she glimmered,

“Just take the wheel okay?”

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Four weeks grounded? No one even got arrested! Officially Regardless, it was late August before I could see Catalina again. For the hundredth time I parked in front of the cold face of her house, this time thawed. I knocked on the door, then waited, then let the sun leave. Silent. I heard a voice call out to me, which gave a terrible fright. Mostly because I realized I was looking through the house windows, but mostly because it was a voice I wasn't familiar with. I was deep and horse.

I began to turn, “Sorry, do you know if—” I was met with a corpse that wore my friend’s bare face.

“You should probably leave Alex” Monotone, deep.

“Why?” I am ice.

“‘You're a bad influence’”

“What are they gonna send me away?” Catalina swept right by.

“Okay bad time but c’mon.” I turned, she fiddled with her keys.

“…”

“Ca-”

“That's not my name.”

The moon peered over once more, but it was finally revealing. When did she get so pale? Her piercings healed over, her face was sunken. She was no pearl, no marble, no great warrior, she didn't glow. I don't think she never did. Under the eye of the midnight moon, she was just gray, she had cracked lips. She lost, I watched.

“Go home Alex” he said.



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