Within a couple of minutes, we boarded a second plane, this time to London.
After almost an hour, I was there, flying over the beautiful city of fantasy lights, the very city of Harry Potter. I laughed at the thought and looked out the airplane window to be greeted by a unique beauty. So much history and elegance that stood on ancestral soil. Land of kings, of mythological creatures, of knights and tea, while Laserlight from Jessie J. played on my iPod.
I smiled like never before.
—Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seatbelts. We will be landing in a few minutes —the stewardess announced our arrival.
Within a couple of minutes, the door opened before my eyes, showing me it was real, that nothing that was happening was a dream and that my dreams started to become true from that moment on.
I went down the steps carefully and for the first time in my life I set foot on British soil.
I felt a chill running through my whole body.
I closed my eyes and filled my lungs with as much air as possible.
It was London.
It was England.
The place I had dreamt of for so many years.
My life took a new direction and I didn’t notice it. Just two days were enough to change my destiny.
The First Meeting
I felt I was in a dream. I looked around and everything was perfect. The weather, the people and even the same ground of the airstrip itself, was so spectacular.
I was definitely in another world.
—Welcome to London! —Mr. Redman said behind me.
When I turned around, I could see a huge smile on his face. He made a gesture with his hand to show me everything around me. My eyes shone like never before.
I got off carefully, and Mr. Redman offered his arm to support me, like every good British gentleman.
We walked along the airstrip to be directed towards a door that led us to a long aisle.
I had to go through the tedious procedures people must go through when they arrive in a foreign country: handing in the documentation, verification and routine questions, while Mr. Redman waited for me on the other side. He went in just by showing his I.D. as a British citizen.
Once everything had been verified, I could continue.
Mr. Redman took my arm and led me.
A very tall, skinny, ashy-haired man with big, gray eyes greeted us just as we left the airport. He had such a warm smile that he could melt the North Pole with it if he’d wish.
—My dear, this is Professor Vincent Hoffman. He teaches the classes of scenic expression at the Academy. You'll find out more about this old grouch—Redman said and winked at as both Redman and the newcomer laughed with complicity.
I extended my hand politely, but Professor Hoffman held my shoulders and kissed me on each cheek.
—Emm —I babbled—. A pleasure to meet you, Professor —I said, and I blushed.
—Likewise, dear. Welcome to London — he bowed his head a little —. Scott has told me many wonderful things about you.
How much would he have told him about me, if he had only known me for two days?
We got in a black vehicle, somewhat funny and judging by my little experience in vehicles, I could tell that it was a Mini E. A BMW hybrid.
All along the way, Mr. Redman and Professor Hoffman were talking of some things I didn’t understand, things related with the academy and of what had happened meanwhile Redman had been absent. I settled with looking out the window of the moving car and seeing so much beauty. I felt as if I were inside a medieval movie. London was so sublime and so ancient at the same time. Wherever I looked, I saw gray, absolute sobriety and those fabulous two-story buses, that were an icon with the city.
I knew what I was doing was selfish and irrational, but I had lived all my life trying to please others, and what about me? Am I selfish for thinking a little about me and go after a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? Am I irrational for going after chimeras leaving behind my mundane, boring life? Ok. Then, I am guilty! And what would you do in my place, having the opportunity to do something different, to get to know a country you've dreamed of for years, to change your life overnight, to escape the conformity of being just another one of the bunch?
I turned on my cell phone to face the pile of text messages that my mother had for certain sent. At that time, Randy should have already given them my note. I breathed in deeply and opened my instant messaging App and I could see that I had countless voice notes from my parents. I reached into my purse for my headphones and set out to hear my dad's first. There were three of them in total.
—Daughter —he paused and let out a sigh—. God bless you —he went on—. Randy has just handed us your letter and explained what happened to us. I am glad to know that something so wonderful has happened for you. London? Acting? —he laughed—. You know I have always agreed that you follow your dreams, but I think this isn’t the way. You could have told us. We are your parents after all. We deserve a little trust. At least I do.
I couldn’t help but feel badly. My father was right. I should have told him. He was always very receptive when it came to my dreams and illusions. I think it might have been because, in a certain way, he saw himself reflected in me.
—I know your mother is a little difficult, but she loves you and will always want what is best for you —I played his second voicemail—. I had to persuade her not to take the first flight to London to go looking for you, because I know that what you did was because of her, to avoid her stopping you going after your dreams. I will tell you the same thing I told your mother. We already lived our life; Shirley has the right to live her own. Take care, honey.
I smiled and reassured myself that I had my father's support. I hit play on the third one.
—By the way, where did you leave my DVDs of the 24? I looked for them in your room and couldn’t find them.
I burst out laughing and proceeded by answering.
Now came the hardest part, listening to my mother’s audios. There were so many of them, I didn't even bother to count them. The truth was she was hysterical because I left without telling her and threatened to come looking for me to England and take me back to Venezuela, dragged by my hair if I didn't come back on my own. She warned me about the dangers of life, of how liberal Europe is, of the possibilities that someone would drug me to take out a kidney and of getting a sexually transmitted disease.
I could notice a big change in her attitude in her last voice notes. I imagined my father would have been able to calm her down, but my relief went away when she finished it off with: You know what? Do what you please with your life! I won’t worry further for you. I know my opinion has never mattered to you. I just hope that you don’t come crying back in a couple of months because I will say “I told you so”.
After that, there were no other voice messages or anything on her part. I could see her profile image had changed from a picture of us hugging and smiling to a phrase of those which are plenty in Google.
“If you manage to deceive someone it's not that that person is stupid, it’s that she trusted you more than you deserved”.
And they say I am the dramatic one? I now see where I learned it from!
Yes, Gabriela was a difficult woman, that likes things done as she says. She is dominant, a little manipulative, and very overprotective, but she is my mother and I love her. However, I was fed up with going at her pace and doing everything she wanted so she would be happy.