Chulito: A Novel Read online

  s e eAce Ventura: Pet Detective when they were kids. Their

  mothers had dropped them at the theater in Parkchester, given them money for popcorn and a soda, then went window shopping until the movie was over. At every stunt and joke, Carlos’ laughter gushed out of him. He rocked in his seat and his stringy hair danced around his head. Chulito laughed, too, but it was more guarded. Then, he started to imitate Carlos and laugh loudly along with him. It felt good. The laugh was not just in his head, but in his chest and body. There were moments where they just looked at each other and laughed. Carlos’ mouth was wide open and Chulito tossed a piece of popcorn. It landed on Carlos’ tongue. They played the popcorn game a bit, then bumped heads when they leaned over at the same time to sip from the soda they shared which made them laugh even louder.

  Chulito smiled at the memory. “I changed, too, ya know.” He ran his hands over the ripple of muscles on his chest and abdomen. “My moms tre chMy momats me like I’m a kid, but I ain’t a kid anymore. Ya know, I’m turning sixteen soon.”

  Their conversations continued every day and Chulito’s heart skipped three beats every time he answered the phone and heard Carlos’ “Hey.” He knew where this was going and couldn’t wait to see Carlos when the semester was over.

  Chulito walked into the kitchen with a bath towel wrapped around his waist. “Yo, mamis, I hope you left some cake for me.” His mom and Maria were finishing their coffee and some leftover birthday cake from the night before. Carmen had cooked a special dinner of pernil with arroz con gandules and gotten him his favorite cake from Valencia Bakery. Chulito loved that sweet frosting, all cold with a thin, crispy coating from being in the fridge overnight.

  “I’m gonna have me some of that.” Chulito pulled the cake out of the refrigerator.

  Carmen smacked his bottom. “Put some clothes on.”

  Chulito smiled and flexed. “Chill, Moms, Maria’s family right?”

  “They grow so fast.” Maria sighed and sipped her coffee.

  Chulito offered cake to the women. They shook their heads. “We better save a piece for Carlos ‘cause ya know he digs this shit, too.”

  “I’m glad you two are friends again,” Maria said.

  “Well, it’s gonna be birthday celebration Part Two tonight. I don’t know what we gonna do ‘cause Carlos says it’s a surprise.”

  Chulito took the cake and a cup of fragrant coffee into his room and looked in his closet. He had shirts and jerseys by Mecca, Tommy Hilfiger, PNB, FuBu, Rocawear, and all the hottest designers organized by color. He got dressed, strapped on his Fossil watch and clipped on the gold neck chain with his name on it, then slipped on his religious beads, red and white for Chango, the Orisha god that his grandmother said was his protector. He tied a red bandanna around his head and topped it off with a fitted Yankee cap. He pulled the cap down low on his brow. Too hard. He flipped it with the rim to the back. Too casual. He brought it back to the front, cocked it slightly to the right and brought it down toward his right eyebrow. Bingo. His look had to be perfect, because for as much as Carlos liked wearing Polo shirts, khaki pants and boat mocs, he had a feeling Carlos would like seeing him tough and thugged out.

  When he stepped out onto Garrison Avenue everything was the same. The auto ck"e. The glass guys with their tight glistening bodies were chasing cars with cracked windshields, a group of old men sat in front of his building playing dominoes on a card table, and further down Garrison he could see the spray of a fire hydrant and hear the squeals of the kids darting in and out of its refreshing, cold stream.

  He slipped on his favorite Yves Saint Laurent shades with the bright gold tint that were more style than function against the high summer sun. He nodded to Martha, Brenda and Debbie who sat on a car on one end of the block, and bopped over to Papo, Looney Tunes, Chin-Chin and Davey who were hanging out in front of Rivera’s bodega on the other end of the block.

  “Yo, Chuli-to! Happy birthday, nigga.” Davey clap-shaked hands and bumped shoulders with Chulito. “You sixteen now, te estás poniendo viejo.” Two years older than Chulito, Davey had a baby-face with large eyes with long lashes and full, rich dark lips that he licked constantly. He lived in the Virgin Mary building around the corner from Chulito on Manida Street. The building had earned its name because its residents maintained a lit water fountain with the Virgin Mary in the front. The statue itself was encased in Plexiglass and surrounded by multi-colored plastic flowers—yellow roses, white mums, pink carnations, orange bird of paradises, lavender lilies, and orange royal orchids—that were kept spotless, dust free and replaced at the first hint of their color fading. Outside the case, the Virgin was surrounded by tropical plants and flowers illegally transported from El Yunque rainforest, including the golden yellow and white lily ginger and the fiery orange and red lobster claw heliconias in large pots that were moved indoors during the winter. From the security bars of all the first floor windows there hung massive ferns in pots turning the front of the building into a lush fragrant mini rain forest for their beloved Virgin Mary.

  Chulito slid his arm around Davey’s neck and pulled him close. “You heard right, sucka. My moms had a little cake for me last night and shit, but tonight who knows what could happen?”

  High fives were served all around. Chin-Chin, the shortest and the oldest of the group at four feet and ten inches and twenty-four years old, said, “Well, if you want to play with tetas, you lucky you got friends to hook you up.”

  “What? Nigga, I ain’t wasting my time with those tired, saggy tetas over at El Coche or The Wedge. Tonight I have special plans.” Chulito pretended to wipe dust off his bare arms.

  Papo, considered one of the more serious guys around, chimed in, “Oh, we know about the special plans.” He made a sexy slurping sound with his mouth. Papo was the tall perfectly put together kind of guy whose body was slim and solid from playing football in front of the house he lived in on Manida Street. On some level he turned everybody on. His skin was a little on the blanquito side with a sprinkle of freckles on his long nose. His brown eyes lit up and looked freaky when the sun hit them and had a way of looking at you dead on, that made you want to ask, “What?” n>

  The guys, except for Looney Tunes, erupted in laughter.

  “What’s so funny, yo?” Looney Tunes smoothed back his unkempt hair.

  “Let’s just say there is no way we gonna serve up saggy tetas to our boy here.” Davey licked his lips, leaving a smooth shine on them. “We goin’ out! Way out!”

  “Hol’ up, fellas. I told you I got some special plans tonight, but tomorrow I’m down for whatever you guys want.”

  Papo crossed his arms, making his chest swell through his tank top, and scanned the neighborhood while the rest of the guys high-fived each other. “Special plans? Bro, forget that ‘cause what we got planned is gonna rock your fuckin’ world.”

  “I’m down.” Looney Tunes did a little dance.

  “With what money?” Davey asked. “Yo, you never have money. Not even to hang out on this corner.”

  They all laughed again.

  Papo waved Looney Tunes away. “You a lazy mo’fo’ because I tried to get you a job working maintenance with me over at Hostos, but you too lazy to get ya ass up for work.”

  Looney Tunes shrugged. “I don’t want to be at work at five o’clock in the damn morning, and I definitely don’t wanna be cleaning up after dumb college kids.”

  Papo shook his head. “Always got an excuse. We do what we gotta do. Right, fellas?” He held up his hand and Chin-Chin slapped it.

  Davey nodded in agreement. “Fuck, next month after I graduate from Stevenson High, I’ma go full-time at Dunkin’, but just for the summer ‘cause you hookin’ me up at Hostos, right Papo?”

  Papo held up a fist and Davey bumped it. “Done deal.”

  Looney Tunes slipped beside Chulito. “Why don’t you put in a word with Kamikaze and I could work with you two?”

  They all laughed.

  Martha, Brenda and
Debbie approached the corner, waved and stood right by them as they waited for the light to change so they could cross the street.

  Chulito interrupted the fellas’s laughter. “Forget that. Yo, listen up, fellas. I am down and Ready Freddy to hook up with you guys tomorrow but not tonight.”

  “What you doing?” Papo looked him in the eye the same way as when he had handed Chulito the bottle.

  “It’s a secret man. Besides, tomorrow’s Saturday. A way better night to go bug out, right?”

  The fellas all looked at each other and considered the possibility.

  “So what you doing tonight, Chulito?” Davey asked.

  The traffic light changed, but Martha and her posse paused to hear the answer.

  The question reverberated through Chulito’s head. “Chillin’ with Carlos who’s coming back from school” is what he wanted to say. “A special date.”

  The “ooooh’s” rose and fell from their throats in perfect harmony.

  “With Catalina?” Davey gave his lips another lick. Catalina was the girl who worked at the Salome Ureña Nail Salon. Everyone thought she was Chulito’s girl, including Catalina.

  “Yep.” Chulito did a hump dance where he pumped his hips and pretended to spank whoever he was pumping. The women exchanged glances and crossed the street.

  “What?” Chin-Chin asked incredulously. “You could fuck that chick any time. You goin’ out with the fellas, hear me?”

  “O.K., hear me out, fellas.” Chulito called them over in a huddle. “It’s someone else.”

  Another chorus of “ooooh’s” from the fellas as they separated.

  Papo knitted his brows. “Pussy you could get any time. We organized this shit and tonight we going out. Way out.” High fives were served up again.

  The clapping sounds of palms meeting palms were like gun pops shooting down his plans with Carlos. Chulito couldn’t cancel on him. Maybe I could invite Carlos to come along? Would that be so bad? It would be a disaster. Besides he wanted to be alone with Carlos to share his thoughts. Carlos always had a way of knowing what he wanted. He knew Carlos would help him understand.

  “O.K., here’s the deal, fellas. You get the party started and I’ll meet you at the spot later.”

  They exchanged glances and nods.

  “I guess so, just as long as it’s not too late.” Papo moved in close to Chulito and put his arm around his shoulder. “Damn, she must be something special if you don’t want to break that date.”

  “It’s just that, you know how chicks get when they make plans, especially for birthdays and holidays.” They all nodded.

  “Shit. This is gonna cause a problem,” Davey said. “It’s not just us right here.” Some of the auto glass guys had arranged to take off work early so they could get cleaned up to go and many of the guys in the neighborhood were prepping as they spoke.

  “You’re right, Davey. Nah, Chulito, it ain’t gonna work,” Papo said. “Everybody is ready to go tonight and you can’t be showin’ up all late. We all gotta go together.”

  Chulito wished he’d just stayed in his room and waited for Carlos.

  Just then, Notorious B.I.G.’s booming rap vibrated the air around them and drowned out their conversation. They all turned to see Kamikaze roll up to the corner in his special order Royal Blue Lexus LS from next year’s line. The sun reflected off all the chrome accents and the tinted mirrored windows making the car sparkle like a giant jewel crawling along Garrison Avenue. Kamikaze rolled down the window and yelled, “Wassup, bums?”

  Chulito thought Kamikaze would be just what he needed to escape their plans. He was Kamikaze’s boy and even though Kaz was cool with everybody, he rarely did the group thing with the fellas.

  “Yo, Kaz,” Davey called out as he approached the car. “Lookin’ good, bro. Sweet running suit. Adidas?”

  Kamikaze smiled and looked down. “Nah, man, it’s Armani. But what up, D?”

  “Chuliv>span>ito has plans, man,” Davey said.

  Kamikaze turned off the music. “I know. He’s going out with us.” He leaned toward the passenger window, pulled down his blue tinted shades and stared Chulito down.

  “Kaz, I didn’t know,” Chulito said.

  Kamikaze stepped out of the car. “That’s because it was supposed to be a surprise, nigga. Show a little gratitude. I don’t normally do this shit, but I’m making an exception and even organized this motherfucker ‘cause you my pana.”

  Being taken out by the fellas was a coming of age rite, a boricua bar mitzvah thrown by your buddies. Chulito knew that to have a party posse organized for his birthday meant that he had gained an important position in his neighborhood, even though he was just sixteen. Davey hadn’t had one yet and he was eighteen. Chin-Chin never had one and he was twenty-four. Papo had one only a year ago for his twenty-first birthday. And Looney Tunes would never have one.

  Throughout Hunts Point word had spread that Kamikaze had organized a party posse and arranged for Chulito to get into a strip club in Yonkers. There was always an electric excitement in the air when all the guys in the neighborhood gathered to go out together. His party posse was growing by the minute. Tats Cru, a team of graffiti muralists who had their “headquarters” around the corner, were joining the posse. His buddies on the corner would leave their posts to attend. Those who had wives or girlfriends would leave them home or give them money to do their own thing.

  Then the guys would all meet at a designated spot, the cars would line up, Hennessey would be passed around, the fellas would be dressed up, cologned down and blinged big time. The stories would live on for days.

  Chulito began to think that the conversations he’d had with Carlos and their plans were a mistake.

  “C’mere, Chulito.” He walked slowly to Kamikaze.

  “So you going tonight, punto.” Kamikaze offered him his fist and Chulito bumped it with his own. “Good, I don’t wanna hear nothing about other plans, O.K.? I’ll be by around eight.”

  As Chulito tried to think of another excuse to delay his arrival, he saw Catalina—all big hair and hips—stomping across the street with Martha, Brenda and Debbie.

  “Chulito, you motherfucker!” Catalina’s presence parted the guys. “Who you fucking tonight? ’Cause if it’s supposed oths suppto be me, this is the first time I’m hearing about it.”

  Her eyes were wide and her nostrils stretched to their max. Her manicured hands were crossed in front of her ample Dominican tetas. “Well?”

  Everything stopped. The only sound came from Chulito’s cell phone when Big Pun’s “Still Not a Player” began to chime. Chulito looked at Carlos’ name flashing across the phone’s screen.

  Catalina lunged for the phone, which fell out of Chulito’s hand and spun across the pavement. Looney Tunes picked up the phone.

  “Give it to me!” Catalina and Chulito yelled at the same time. Looney Tunes passed it to Davey, who passed to Papo, who tried to pass it to Kamikaze, who didn’t accept it but pointed to Chulito. Just as Papo moved toward Chulito with the phone, Martha plucked it out of his hand just as it stopped ringing.

  “Answer her,” Martha demanded. She commanded attention as she held the phone high in the air with one hand and pressed her fist to her waist with her other. She glared with a low tolerance for bullshit. She once played Rizzo, leader of the Pink Ladies, in

  Junior High School 125’s production ofGreaseand the role stuck.

  Now she attended Bronx Community College, was the president of its Latina Movers and Shakers Club and wanted to singlehandedly deliver her neighborhood sisters from macho oppression. “Enough of your stupid games, Chulito. You are supposed to be a man now, according to these knuckle heads. Own up, Mr. Man.”

  Then, out of the corner of his eye, Chulito saw Carlos stumble out of the passenger’s seat of a new white Range Rover in front of their building. He was laughing and dialing his cell phone. He looked a little different, maybe a little skinnier. Chulito felt excitement and dread. He hoped no one from the cor
ner would notice Carlos.

  Kamikaze walked over to Martha and held out his hand. She held the phone out, and he took it and gave it to Chulito. “Handle your shit, pana.”

  “What are you doing tonight, Chulito?” The anger in Catalina’s voice had gone from a volcanic boil to a low simmer.

  Big Pun’s beat chimed out of his cell, again. Looney Tunes danced to the beat.

  Carlos held his phone to his ear while he unloaded a big suitcase, a bunch of shopping bags and two stacks of books tied with a thick heavy twine. Maria popped out of the building and gave her son a hug. She went over to the Rover and waved hello to the driver.

  “You gonna answer that, bro?” Davey asked.

  Chulito noticed Papo staring at the front of his building.

  “Oh shit,” Papo said. “There’s Carlos. He must be back from college. Go get a bottle so we can welcome his ass back home.”

  The fellas laughed.

  Chulito hit the silence button.

  “Chulito, look Carlos is home. Come say hello.” Maria yelled over to the corner.

  The guys erupted into laughter.

  “But hol’ up yo, check out his ride. That shit is sweet,” Davey said.

  When Carlos saw Chulito on the corner, he flipped his phone shut.

  “Chulito, come here,” Maria said.

  Chulito took a few steps.

  “Don’t even think about it, Chulito,” Catalina growled through her teeth. “We’re not finished.”

  “I don’t want to disrespect Carlos’ mother.” Chulito walked away.

  Catalina turned and crossed the street back toward the salon, swearing in Spanish. Martha, Brenda and Debbie followed her.

  “Yo, pana,” Kamikaze called out as he got into his car. “I’ll see you at eight, right?”

  Chulito turned to face Kamikaze and slowly nodded yes. The fellas hooted and hollered. “The party is on!”

  As Chulito approached the building he saw that Carlos and his mom had gone inside and the driver, a tall, slim guy with curly blond hair, was carrying the two stacks of books inside. He was wearing cut-off jean shorts, sandals and a loose black concert Tshirt that had “Nina Simone, Carnegie Hall, June 28, 2001” written on the back with a big picture of Nina Simone on the front. He reminded Chulito of the guy with whom Carlos held hands ack held hand his heart tightened into a fist. Carlos appeared in the doorway, took one of the stacks from the driver and smiled at him. Then he paused and looked at Chulito, who stopped in his tracks.