My friend, Jesus, Jesus Villa, who was a chemist by trade (he worked in oil), and who was also my roommate in The City, asked annoying questions.
“Should I wear pants today?” he would ask.
Elena, who met us at the apartment every morning for coffee, would say, “What color pants?”
I would say, “He had a pair of yellow pants once.”
“Should I eat cereal or a bagel?” Jesus would ask.
Elena would say, “It depends on whether it’s hot or cold outside. Unless it’s September when it doesn’t matter.”
“I thought it was August when it didn’t matter,” Jesus would say.
I would say, “One time, when I was a kid, I locked myself outside of the house and it was 25 degrees. My mother was asleep.”
“Did you have to break a window?” Elena would ask.
“I don’t remember,” I would say. “But I remember I was cold. And obviously I didn’t die.”
“Should I drive or take the bus?” Jesus would ask.
“Now that really depends on the weather,” Elena would say, sipping coffee.
“After work, we should go swimming,” I would say. “We should go swimming or to the cafe.”
Jesus would rub one of his elbows. He would say, “Swimming or a late coffee? Tonight?”
Elena would say, “Swimming’s too dangerous.” She thought many things were dangerous. “And I drink too much coffee.”
I would say, “I almost drowned once. I drank too much and I was with friends in another friend’s pool. I think one of the bigger friends flipped me and I went down deep. I remember the colors, bright yellow from the pool lights. I also remember not being able to figure which way was up, so I swam in a circle, struggling to understand the concept of up, down, and, worse, the idea of breathing.”
“Obviously you didn’t die,” Elena would say.
“We understand the physical properties of water,” Jesus would say. He always brought up the physical properties of things. “Even so we love to be near dangerous things.”
“I heard that young children who die by drowning do so in silence, so quietly that an adult seated by the pool or by any other body of water won’t even know it’s happening,” Elena would say.
I would say, “Somebody reached in and dragged me out. I remember just going around in circles under the bright yellow water. When I came out I was sober as an elephant.”
