SHORT STORY THE BIKINI
THE BIKINI
Automatic traslation from the original story in Spanish. Not checked manually
Peter, on that cold New York night, wandered aimlessly, searching for a doorway large enough to lie down and sleep in.
From being in a fairly decent financial position, he had quickly become homeless.
Although several months had passed, he still didn’t understand why all this had happened to him. An unexpected and, to him, inexplicable divorce plunged him into a deep depression, and this depression cost him his job.
Depressed, unemployed, and without health insurance, his debts soon piled up, and with them came eviction. He was still alive, but without hope, plagued by filth and hunger.
Then he saw a furniture store whose doorway was large enough to set up his camp… those cardboard boxes and rags he carried with him, which at night became his uncomfortable dwelling.
He set up all his belongings and before lying down, he went over to the nearby trash cans looking for something to eat… And he was surprised to find a still-warm ham and cheese sandwich that, for some inexplicable reason, had been thrown away before even a single bite had been taken.
He gazed at it almost adoringly; it was a real delicacy. He remembered that, on his honeymoon many years ago, he had been in Barcelona, he had been surprised that they called this sandwich a “bikini” there. Apparently, from what he had been told, it owed its name to a dance hall that existed in the city.
Then he was about to sink his teeth into that delicacy when a huge, scrawny stray dog approached him. He felt genuine terror as the sparse-furred animal quickly came near.
Suddenly, the animal stopped and sat down in front of him. He tilted his head, and with a pitiful expression, stared at him intently. Then, as if forcing a smile, he tilted his head to the other side, his ears drooping in a pleading gesture.
Peter, though hungry, understood that the animal was hungry too, and compassionately cut the sandwich into two identical pieces. The dog devoured his share in an instant, but as if understanding the situation, lay down at Peter’s feet without asking for anything more.
When the man went to his makeshift shelter, the dog followed and lay down beside him. The warmth of the animal’s body made the brutal cold of that night more bearable.
When he got up early, so as not to obstruct those opening the store, he went, as he did every day, to the door of a supermarket. He sat down on the street near the entrance, placed a cardboard cup with some coins on the ground, and a sign written on one of the cups that read: “Help me. I have nothing.”
To his surprise, the dog had followed him, and to his astonishment, it sat beside him. Every time someone entered or left the supermarket, as if understanding its mission, it adopted the same strategy it had used with him the night before.
The truth is, with the dog’s help, for the first time in months, he had managed to earn enough money to buy groceries for both of them.
A short time later, they had become inseparable. Peter had decided to call it “Bikini,” and the animal seemed to understand perfectly, wagging its tail and approaching him every time he uttered the word.
Three months after this friendship began, Peter no longer felt depressed and started thinking about what he could do to escape the ignominy he was living through.
The nights were no longer so cold, and he saw some people strolling through the city. One of those nights, when Peter had found a suitable shop doorway to shelter them both for the night, a woman’s scream shattered the silence.
Bikini darted off towards the source of the scream, Peter following him… A strange man was trying to rob a woman and suddenly found himself on the ground with the dog on top of him, its jaws clamped around his arm.
When Peter arrived, the thug had managed to break free and was fleeing like a bat out of hell. The woman was in the midst of a panic attack. He approached cautiously and, trying to calm her, said, “Don’t be afraid, it’s all over now.”
The woman, hiccupping from suppressed tears, replied as she looked at him, “Yes. Maybe I’m alive thanks to your dog.”
She realized then that Peter was a homeless man. One of those homeless people who filled her with such disgust and fear. One of those filthy people she always saw as potential criminals.
“I’m glad I could help you,” the man said, starting to walk away. Bikini was about to follow him when the woman said, “Wait!”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Do you need a job?” “—said the woman, trying not to be offensive.
“Yes,” he replied, surprised.
“Come see me tomorrow morning and I’ll find you a job,” she said, handing him a card. Peter took it and saw it was for a computer systems company, and he was a systems engineer… then he stammered, “It’s just that I don’t have any suitable clothes I don’t want you to feel obligated either…”
“Come tomorrow at 7:30 and one of my employees will accompany you to buy some clothes and to a boarding house that accepts dogs so you can live decently until you can find something better.”
Peter, with tears in his eyes, thanked her for her gesture and, looking at Bikini, thought that half a ham and cheese sandwich had given him a new opportunity. They both headed, for the last time, to his unhealthy bedroom.
The Bikini – Short stories series – Copyright ©Montserrat Valls and Juan Genovés