The worst thing I’ve ever done

This story was written in a very stream of conscious manner. It is dedicated to my friend, the lost one, and to anyone who has ever lost a friend.

      So, this is a true story. A friend of mine, or former friend, Moises, someone I knew for countless years, someone who was more of a brother to me than just a friend, actually, he and his brothers were like my own brothers, anyway, he was once in love. When he was a teenager he met a girl named Maria. She worked at a department store in our neighborhood, the same department store in which Moises also worked, but that was later on. He met her one day, while he shopped for underwear. She helped him pick the perfect pair.

            She was dating someone at the time. A stud named Wilson, who she felt much love for, but didn’t receive as much in return. After their first encounter, Moises and Maria began to see more of each other and eventually they developed a solid friendship.

            As normal as breathing, a man and a woman spending much time together will cultivate romantic feelings for each other. And that was just what happened with the two. Moises and Maria spent plenty of time together that they grew into a faux couple, faux because Maria had a lover, one whom she was growing tired of.

            Eventually, it was accepted, without shame, that Moises and Maria were having a forbidden relationship of their own. Gallivanting through the neighborhood, they were acknowledged more a couple than Maria and her actual lover were.  Wilson, who worked furiously, was unaware of the entire situation until a friend of his, out of jealousy, told Wilson everything that was going on between Moises and Maria. This led to a backlash and eventually the short romance between Moises and Maria came to an end.

            Moises, being depressed for a large amount of time afterwards, eventually got over the situation and moved on, dated many women, none of which worked out, experimented with men, also didn’t work out, bought lots of expensive things to ease the pain, had a makeover, changed completely…nothing worked.

            During the next few years he went back to school, graduated, got a good, was promoted a few times, settled a few feuds with his family, things were looking up. And all the while I was there, the sentinel, the diligent friend, the brother, always ready to bite the bullet, always ready to make the sacrifice.

            A few years ago, after we all grew up and moved on with our lives, Moises was taking the train back home, the #3 train, New Lots bound, homeward bound. He was sitting down, in the crowded train; he was selfish that way, never giving his seat up, not even to the elderly nor a pregnant woman. Then a woman walked into the train cart, Utica Ave, New Lots bound #3 train, the next stop is Sutter Ave-Rutland Road, stand clear of the doors, please. She was standing with her back towards him. Her hair tumbled just below her beltline in full, moussed curls. Her tight jeans leaving very little to the imagination and the red shirt she wore accentuated her already full breasts. These details and descriptions, of course, come from Moises himself. I wasn’t there. I didn’t see her.

            He called out her name, she didn’t answer. He called out her name again, only this time he stood on his feet and tapped her shoulder. Surprised, she gave him a hug, he hugged back, and the conversation ensued. She was in school for nursing, that’s Great! Had no kids, Yes! Even better, was completely single, I’m in heaven!  He told her what he was up to, everything that had happened, they both got off on Rockaway Ave, This is a New Lots bound #3 train, Junius Street is next, stand clear of the closing doors, please.

            After talking for a long time, raising their voices whenever another #3 train passed them�"countless trains had passed�"they made plans to meet up later in the week, lunch, dinner, it didn’t matter. He called me later that night to tell me what happened, the dead walked again, he was visited by a ghost of a girl he loved, all the magic of voodoo and Santeria together had brought back his zombified ex-kind-of-girlfriend. I was happy for him, of course…of course I wasn’t. I just told him I was happy, in reality I was scared. Scared that she might hurt him again. Scared that she would marry him, take him away from me, take my brother. My fear stemmed from being lonely and I was extremely jealous. But, happy for him, happy, happy, happy.

            They met for lunch, or dinner, or whatever, it didn’t matter and as I predicted things went well. They began to see more and more of each other and naturally I was hearing more and more about her. Her likes, dislikes, hobbies, how good she was in bed (which actually interested me) and all the other things you learn about someone who is someone special to someone who is special to you.

            They began to date, go steady, like in high school. I saw much of her and every time I saw her it made me vomit in my mouth. She was the player. She was the temptress. She was the evil witch, casting brujos on my friend, spells of amnesia, to make his mind, his juvenile, delinquent mind a sort of tabula rasa, one which she can gaily paint in her evil reds and greens and blues.

            So, here is where the worst thing I’ve ever done comes in…

            His brother, Joel, and I decided that we would try to break them up. Joel wanted to break them up because she was controlling, domineering, compulsive and he down right hated her. I wanted to break them up because of an ancient knot in my stomach from when we were teenagers and she hurt Moises the first time. I admit that my desire to break them up was nothing compared to Joel’s. So we devised a plan, which our mutual friend, Tara, agreed to help us with. She would make calls to Moises’s cell phone, knowing his schedule, Joel and I knew exactly when he would be with Maria, and we arranged the phone calls for those times.

            The initial call was comical. Tara pretended to be a girl from college who Moises was secretly still seeing. Moises hung up and kept sending the subsequent calls to voicemail. Tara left dozens of voicemails, knowing well that Maria would either question who kept calling Moises’s cellphone or would eventually want to hear the voicemails herself. The latter is what took place, and after hearing the voice of another woman on the voicemail, Maria was shocked and angry.

            Days passed. I didn’t hear from Moises. I heard from Anna, Tara’s Girlfriend, that Moises was depressed and in a bad place. I was heartbroken. I had joined Joel and Tara in this vengeful crusade to destroy a relationship that I had no business destroying. I was convinced that doing so would make ME feel better. I was convinced that this was the best thing for Moises, to leave this relationship. I was wrong.

            A few years have passed since this happened. Moises, after finding out that I had a part in the phone calls, stopped talking to me. He refuses, even until today, to speak with me. He does, however, speak with his brother, Joel. And Tara was never Moises’s friend. I came out losing big time. I lost a brother. I lost a friend. I lost faith in myself and I lost faith in my rationality. He will never forgive me. I know that.

            This is a New Lots bound #3 train; the next stop is Junius street. Stand clear of the closing doors, please.