Bathhouse

   The place was full of steam and very humid. The columns that divided one part of the baths from the others appeared to be sweating, as everyone else in that place. There were mostly men, as the women baths were located separately but some women came in, naked of course, and served the high-ranking men. Prostitution was forbidden in the baths but business in that field was done there anyway and the act would be performed somewhere else, so that way the owner of the baths wouldn’t have any problem with the authorities.

 Many military loved the baths; especially after the long campaigns the emperor sent them too. The ones that came back, successful or not, were considered better than normal men so they received every single kind of gift and appreciation possible by the general public. For example, there was this general in one of the pools, enjoying the hot water, but also caressing a young man he had taken an interest for and eating with that boy many tropical fruits that were only accessible to the most important people in the empire.

 The fruits were served cut and ripe in a large plate. This was all done by men as women were believed not to be “good enough” to serve such powerful and important people. Women were always entertainment or responsibility, never anything else. Some of them resented that and claimed that women should also be treated like gods and so on, but the response was always that women did not go to war, so they had no idea what real sacrifice was or how loyalties and strategy worked.

 The baths were a men’s world.

 The hand of the general went up and down the young men’s leg and the only thing he could do was to smile. His family had been the one to send him against his will to the baths. He didn’t wanted to be there but had to as the general promised a very large sum to his family in exchange for his company. This meant that the poor boy had to be around the general every single day, at every time and everywhere until the older men just decided he liked someone else or until he verbally declared the boy was not suitable anymore.

 The boy knew it was cruel to think that way but he wanted another boy to appear soon and be more of the liking of the general. He didn’t cared what happened to that other boy, he just wanted to be replaced in order to go home and become a scientist as his parents had once promised him. He had only attended a few lessons with a known master of the city when he was picked up by the general in a crowded street. He had gotten lost going to class and that had been his downfall.     

 But not all were anxious to be rejected. In another pool, a younger man was been honored with the most delicious wine and a nice ration of roasted boar. He was the young son of a general that had become an official too in Northern Africa. He had combatted a tribe there that had tried to liberate some slaves. The man had won, making his father and the empire very proud of him. So he had chosen a boy too to accompany him but the difference was they had agreed on all of it before.

 The boy was not from Rome. He wasn’t a kid with a family or with any prospects. No one really knew this, but he had been one of the many people captured in Africa to become slaves. His skin was dark but not as dark as to draw looks from everyone he encountered. He was beautiful and that was an advantage in a society were beauty was so important. The young military had seen that and liberated him with the condition that he should remain on his side as long as he desired.

 Strangely but not uncommon in these exchanges, the two men formed a very tight and deep relationship. They travelled together from those far lands to the capital and in the process got to know each other and taught one another things about themselves and about their worlds. The father of the young military man was not thrilled by his company but decided not to do anything about it because he was too proud at the moment to spoil his boy’s happiness. But he felt something had to be done in the long run.

 In the baths, the boy and the young military were side by side, holding hands and telling stories to the group that was around them. Everyone listened and laughed and sobbed in the right moments, asking questions and being curious in the most charming way possible. Of course, many of them were spies and others were poor trying to infiltrate the higher levels of society. But no one really cared because even there, with everyone naked in hot steamy water, people were still not fully themselves; they still hid some of their secrets and real feelings.

 No one would ever see any of those men do more with the boy than touching. That was all that was permitted in the bathhouse, by law. It was in their homes, their private dwellings, were every lie was shed and only the truth remained with all these gods that dressed like soldiers. And they did believe they were gods, or almost at least. They knew that they were better than others, smarter and much more valiant. They didn’t have the necessity to do anything else than be. That way people honored them everywhere they went and applauded their every thought, word or act, just because of they were. And their companions, boys or girls or women or other military men, were glad to be there to see it all.

 But not everyone was happy. In another pool, three military men cared only for the warm water and the food. They had no one tending to their needs or asking them to tell stories. That was because they had yelled away anyone who got close to them from the first day they had came back from the field. These men were a group that battled barbarians in the northern borders and had been together for many years. They knew each other from their first training and, although one could not see it, they were glad to be together and alive.

 However, there was no real happiness as many of their men had been killed by the savages. It has to be understood that in that group there was a head, a men with grey eyes called Decimus, but every decision was agreed on by every single member of the group. When they left the capital, they were seven men from the best families in the empire, ready to do what was needed to defend their land. But in the process of defending that land, four had died in the hands of the enemy. Their deaths had been atrocious and laid inside the brains of the three many that steam tried to relax.

 The women that brought the fruit often let some skin be seen by the men so they would initiate business with them. But the group of three man didn’t care at all about breasts or legs or anything else than their troubled memories. They weren’t seeking young boys like the others and had no mind to be thinking in romance or sexual pleasure. They just wanted to be left alone with their sore bodies and their ghosts, who were all there with them, reminding them of every single moment of the battle, again and again and again.

 They had refused real medical attention and also the presence of healers that would care for their wounds right there in the bathhouse. They just didn’t want to talk to anyone. They were voluntarily sinking in their own nightmares, feeling that they did not deserve a better luck that their friends that had died in battle. They felt that real justice by the Gods would have been to kill them all on the field, leaving all with the honor of having defended the empire and all that it stood for.

 Yet, they were soaking in a bathhouse, feeling the pain of something that would never happen. The pain was stronger because the bond between those seven men was too strong. It was friendship but it was also love that linked one to the other. Forever they would feel the presence of the others and the ominous feeling that something else should have happened and that their lives should have ended in a different way.

 The steam of the bathhouse had that peculiarity, of making everything possible and impossible at the same time.

Dolor de sueño

   Lo único que podía hacer era arquear la espalda, girar la nuca para un lado y para el otro y tratar de encontrar una nueva posición en la que dormir. Pero como todos sabemos, eso no es posible. Muy pocas personas son tan adaptables y yo simplemente nunca he sido una de esas personas. Intento acostarme boca arriba y lo único que hago es dejar los ojos abiertos y mirar al techo, así la oscuridad sea completa. Si duermo de lado, siento que estoy atrapando uno de mis brazos y siento como se va durmiendo lentamente. Ya me ha pasado antes que me duermo encima de uno y a la mañana siguiente me siento como una marioneta.

 Lo mío, sin lugar a dudas, es dormir boca abajo, con la cabeza girada, ocho veces sobre diez, hacia la derecha. No tengo ni idea de porqué es la única manera en que me quede dormido. Puede que cuando era un bebé tomé esa costumbre y ahora no la dejo por nada del mundo. No lo sé y la verdad puede llegar a ser bastante molesto.

 Comprar un nuevo colchón no era una opción pues la casa no era mía y simplemente no iba a gastar un dinero en algo tan personal para que después alguien lo usara más que yo. Nunca me ha gustado hacer caridades y menos aún cuando no tengo el poder adquisitivo, o mejor dicho el dinero, para hacer semejantes contribuciones. Así que simplemente trataba de encontrar mi mejor ángulo para dormir y listo.

 Una vez, recuerdo, estaba haciendo mis ejercicios de cuello y espalda en un tren, uno que iba considerablemente vacío, y varias personas se me quedaron mirando, como si jamás hubiesen visto a alguien con cuello. Eran tantas miradas y de manera tan penetrante que agradecí llegar a mi parada para no tener que sentir todos esos ojos encima mío. Se sintió extraño y ese día solo caminé a paso veloz a mi casa para hacer allí los ejercicios y hacer que mi espalda crujiera y aliviara mi dolor.

 Averiguando por ahí, encontré una masajista que decía ser la mejor en males relacionados con el sueño, así que concertamos una cita y fui a su consultorio. El resultado fue bastante pobre y estoy seguro que cualquier persona que yo conocía hubiese tenido más fuerza en las manos que esa pobre mujer. Lo único que me causó al final de la sesión fue dolor y no solo físico sino en la billetera al cobrarme un precio exorbitante por haberme hecho sentir más dolor. Por supuesto, jamás volvería a un masajista ya que soy de las personas que juzgan a un grupo por lo que hace uno de ellos.

 La acupuntura ayudó y resultó ser más relajante pero la verdad era que requería más fuerza, más insistencia, y resultados más rápidos. No podía estar yendo a cada rato para citas a ver que podíamos ir trabajando. Así que la opción era buena pero no lo suficiente.

 Cualquier amistad que viniese a mi casa tenía que soportar la extraña pregunta: “Te parece muy raro si te pido que te sientes en mi espalda?”. A muchos sí que les parecía raro y descartaban la pregunta como si fuera una de esas moscas gordas que entran en las habitaciones únicamente a molestar. Otros, los mejores amigos sin duda, aceptaban así no estuvieran muy seguros de que tenían que hacen o como tenían que hacerlo. Pero al fin y al cabo que no era ciencia nuclear sino sentarse en mi espalda.

 Es magnifico lo útil que era a veces. Sentir el peso de alguien sobre ti, es obviamente intimidante y da mucho miedo por la parte de quedarse sin aire, pero también es algo liberador. Es como si los males que te aquejan adquirieran una forma física que puedes quitarte de encima cuando quieras y que puedes sentir más fácilmente. Y lo normal es que sea más fácil para nosotros manejar lo que vemos y conocemos que lo que no tenemos ni idea cómo es.

 Pero al cabo de un tiempo tuve que dejar de hacerlo pues ya no tenía ningún efecto. Una amiga me aconsejó entonces que fuese a un doctor. Me sugirió que tal vez mi dolor de espalda provenía de una falta de vitaminas y minerales esenciales y que de pronto tomando algún tipo de medicamente podría mejorar estado de salud.

 Odio ir al médico pero a esas alturas estaba dispuesto a intentar lo que fuera. El doctor era uno que había encontrado casi al azar. El caso era que hiciese los exámenes pertinentes y encontrara una manera de quitarme la incomodidad de encima. Hablaba con esa voz y esa paciencia que bordea en lo molesto, esa que tienen muchos doctores como si con solo la voz ya estuvieran salvando al planeta de su destrucción. Me revisó superficialmente y al final me pidió una muestra de sangre.

 Los resultados se demoraron una semana en estar listos y estaba seguro  que era tiempo suficiente puesto que la cantidad de sangre que me habían sacado era suficiente para una buena cantidad de pruebas. Esperé en una sala de varias sillas y donde todo el mundo se veía como si estuviese a cinco segundos de su muerte. Siempre he pensado que los hospitales y centros de salud son deprimentes, pero esta gente de verdad que no se estaba ayudando. Era tan horrible estar ahí, que tuve que ponerme de pie y esperar admirando falsamente un afiche sobre enfermedades venéreas.

 Cuando por fin me hicieron pasar, seguí rápidamente al consultorio y me resultó especialmente curioso que el doctor no estuviese solo sino que estuviese acompañado de quién parecía otro doctor. Me iban a coger de conejillo de Indias o mi doctor era de esos que creo que cualquier momento es bueno para socializar, así haya elegido la carrera que más restringe cualquier construcción social en el mundo?

 Al rato me respondió que ese señor era un especialista del sueño que trabajaba cerca y que estaba interesado en mi caso. Por un segundo me dio risa pero después decidí mejor no reírme y únicamente sentarme al lado del doctor que no conocía.

La verdad fue que sentí como si hubiese viajado en el tiempo a la época en que iba a clase y no entendía ni jota de lo que me decían. Esto porque cuando los doctores hablaron, quedó en ceros completamente. Sé que me decían cifras y hablaban de algunas vitaminas pero también de compuestos que yo ni conocía pero también decían nombres raro y asentían entre sí como si fuera lo más obvio del mundo pero yo, con el pasar de cada segundo, entendía cada vez menos.

 No soy bueno en momentos así, cuando me siento con mayores desventajas que otros. Y la verdad es que con el tiempo he aprendido a no ser un idiota y a poner mi pie en el suelo y exigir que mi presencia sea reconocida. Así que lo que hice fue ponerme de pie de golpe y salir del consultorio. Fue tal cual, sin decir nada ni despedidas ni ninguna floritura social de esas que a la gente le fascina. Solo me fui.

 Al no ser una película, obviamente nadie salió corriendo detrás de mí. Además la cita estaba pagada por mi seguro entonces podía hacer un poco lo que se me diera la gana. En cuanto al tiempo del doctor ese, la verdad me da igual. Como gasta uno su tiempo es problema exclusivamente propio, así que cuando caminé esa fría mañana hacia un café y me senté a desayunar, no tenía la menor culpa.

 Sin embargo, el problema persistía. Como suele pasar, el cuerpo recuerda cosas de un momento a otro y de la manera más cruel: apenas me senté sentí como si la espalda se me fuese a romper ahí mismo. El dolor fue máximo y quise gritar pero no dije nada pues nunca me ha gustado llamar la atención. Entonces llegó el mesero y le pedí lo que quería. Se me quedó mirando raro pero se fue al instante.

 Cuando se movió de mi campo de visión, me di cuenta de algo que no había intentado en estos días para remediar mi dolor. Era una respuesta tan obvia, que me reprendí por no ser tan ágil como para haberlo pensado antes. Cogí el celular y empecé a escribir para arreglar todos los detalles. Como sabía, todo fue a mi favor y de la mejor manera posible. Cuando el mesero volvió con mi pedido, lo recibí con una sonrisa y un guiño. Puede que lo que iba a hacer no funcionara pero el ejercicio no me vendría mal después de todo.