Adrian Del Valle - Diego's Brooklyn (16 page)

“A dress? In front of all these people?”

“So! We’re not going to see these people anymore, what’s it matter?”

“Hey, that girl’s looking at us.”

“No she’s not. Stop the bullshit and help me.”

Larry clenched his teeth.
“Help you what! Find a dress?
I’m not doin’ that! Besides, I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout no dresses.”

“If you see something that looks nice, let me know, that’s all.”

“What a
freakin’
waste of my time.
Fine
…don’t say it! I’ll look.”

“How’s this one?” said Diego, pulling a black dress with a wide, white lacy collar off the rack.”

“If she’s not a nun, put it back.”

“Okay, is this one any better, its kind o’ nice?”

“What’s with the puffy sleeves, she goin’ parachutin’ somewhere?”

“Very funny! Are you going to get serious and help me, or not?”

While Diego continued his search, Larry checked from the other end of the long line of dresses. He soon found one he actually liked and held it above the rack.

“Hey, this looks pretty good.”

Diego glared at him with a distrusting eye.

“No, really, I really mean it this time.”

“Let me see it!” Diego took the dress from him and held it up against the boy’s chest.”

“Hey!
What the hell are you doing? You want all these girls to see us.”

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Larr, but I think they already have? Besides, they’re leaving.”

“Well…at least you didn’t have to wave a flag at them.”

“Shut up Larry and hold still.” Diego held the dress up to him for size. “You’re about the right height.”

“
Right height?
Right height for
what,
Diego?”

“To try this on.”

“What!
What‘re you nuts? I’m not trying nothing on!”

“Hey, just imagine a delicious banana split, with all those strawberries and chocolaty syrup just oozing all over the…”

“Shut up, Diego?”

“So go! Try it on before someone comes. There’s nobody in that dressing room. Hurry up! Go and try it on so we can go!”

“Whaddya mean,
that dressing room
. I never said I was trying anything on. You go! It’s your mother!”

“Choclatee, syrupee, yummy strawber…”

“You know? You really suck sometimes, Diego. Give me that!” Larry snatched the dress from him. “And if you see any girls around, you better tell me before I come out.”

“Thanks heaps, Larr.”

“You’re not welcome. We’re doing this fast, and when we’re done with this crap, don’t forget you’re buying me an ice cream, and it better be a big one for this bullshit.”

He entered the last dressing room at the end and hastily put the dress over his head. He got his arms through and struggled to pull it down at the sides, but couldn’t get the waist line past his chest. Poking his head around the curtain, he checked both ways before stepping out. “Look at this shit! Are you satisfied, now, you fuckin’ Puerto Rican?”

They both laughed heartily at that, Larry more than Diego did.

“Wait there while I get you another one.”

“One more, Diego, that’s it and then we’re leaving!”

Diego returned with the same style, red dress, a size 16 Petit. “Here, try this on.”

“Yeah, right! This is it! Gimme that!” Larry snatched the dress out of his hands.

Shortly, he slapped the curtain to the side and after a quick check, stepped out. “Well? Yes or no? Hurry up…quick!”

“You didn’t take your pants off.”

“
What!
I ain’t gonna do that! Hurry up! Do you like it, or not?”

“On you sweetie? No, not really, ha, ha.”

Larry took a step backward, stiffened his lips, and in a low, raspy tone, said, “Hey, screw you, pal. Now I ain’t doin’ this no more!”

“That’s fine! You’ll see!”

“Whaddya mean, I’ll see? What ‘re you gonna do?”

“Oh…you’ll see!”

“Come on Diego. Don’t be that way.”

“You know what Larr, I had a surprise for you, but now I don’t think I’m going to give it to you anymore.”

“Aw man, you see that shit? Now why do you gotta be that way. Okay, fine, I’ll try on one more dress, but
that’s
it.”

“Without the pants.”

“Man, do I really have to?”

“If you want the surprise, yes.”

“Why does life have to be so hard? So where’s the fuckin’ dress?”

“Hang on, and stop cursing. I left it over there.”

In a rush to get the whole thing over with, and forgetting for the moment that he was still wearing the other dress, Larry followed Diego to the opposite end of the rack.

“Oh, crap! Why didn’t you tell me I still had this fuckin’ shit on?”

“Stop cursing, will you?”

Larry quickly pulled the dress over his head and flung it high into the air toward the other side of the rack.”

“Here, try on this red one on. I saw it before when you were in there changing.”

Larry reluctantly snatched it from him, and without another word, shuffled towards the dressing room, dragging the dress along the floor behind himself.

Two aisles over, Butchie’s mother lay a second blouse over her arm. She was now heading between the dress racks to the checkout with her son.

“Hey, Diego. What‘re you doin’ here?”

“Butchie! Oh…uh…I’m with my mother. She’s trying something on.”

“Oh, yeah…well, hey, this is my mother.”

“Hi, ma‘am, I’m pleased to…”

The heavy curtain to the dressing room suddenly swung to the side with Larry looking down and brushing the front of the dress flat. “This better be it, because I…I…
oh, crap!”

Opened mouthed and wide eyed, Larry melted where he stood, in the middle of the aisle with a sickening feeling welling up in his stomach. The dress fit perfectly with Larry’s chubby knees barely showing below the hem line. His red cheeks matched the dress to a T.

“Well, well,” Butchie slowly said.

Covering his mouth, he suddenly exploded with laughter. As soon as he was able to, he quipped, “Hi there, Mrs. Rivera, so pleased to meet you.”

“Come on Butchie! Let’s get out of here!” his mother barked.

Larry said nothing else. Totally defeated, his arms were left hanging loosely at the sides of the dress, his head hanging as low as he felt inside. Turning quietly around, his heels scuffed the floor as he shuffled his way back to the dressing room, his short and chubby, powder white legs, fully exposed beneath the dress.

And Diego never even liked that dress, nor any of the other ones Larry had tried on. It was all in jest and he enjoyed every minute of it. He pulled the one he had set aside from the rack, a dress he had already picked out the first time his friend stepped into the dressing room. It was a red dress of a totally different style, size 7 petit.

After an appeasement of not one, but two banana splits, Larry exited Woolworth’s holding his belly, ‘less it fell to his knees. With a satisfied look on his face, he licked the chocolate from the corner of his mouth and headed with Diego to Baker’s Shoes on the next block. Spared from trying on anything else, Larry found out what the surprise was—nothing—nada—zilch, and it pissed him off for being had so easily.

When Diego got home, he laid the shopping bags on the kitchen table and sat with anticipation.

“Hijo, what ees all dees?” asked Ana, rummaging through the bags.

“I’m taking you to church tomorrow. It’s been a while and I know you would like to go.”

“Jess, a long time. How deed ju get all dees? How much deed all thees cost?”

“Mom, don’t worry about that? I found some money, that’s all.”

“Oh, mine goodness! Ju find moe-ney? Where?”

“In the street. It was laying in the gutter.”

“Een dee street? Maybe somebody ees lookeeng for dees money?”

“I don’t think so. I waited around for a while, but nobody came by. Go ahead, Mom, look inside.”

Ana took the dress out of the bag, held it up and sighed with a beginning of tears. “Look at thees dress. Eet ees so preedy. (Sniff) Fourteen, ninedy eight? So much moe-ney! We could by food weeth thees moe-ney.”

“I got you shoes to go along with it and a pair of stockings.”

Ana reached into the other bag and put the shoe box on the table. She wiped her eyes and opened the box carefully as if any sudden move would make it all disappear. Unfolding the paper wrapping carefully to the sides, she took out one of the shoes.

Diego mirrored her smile. “They looked like the shoes in the closet, the ones you used to wear when you dressed up. I was lucky, they still had the same style, so I bought them. How do you like them, Mom?”

Ana couldn’t believe it. Tearfully shaking, she leaned forward, kissed her son on the cheek and said, “Ju making ju momma so hoppy, Diego.”

Sunday Morning

“You’re going to look beautiful,” said Karen, finishing up with Ana’s eye liner. “How does she look, Diego? Come see.”

“Wow, Mom! You look pretty. I really mean it.”

“Stand up for a second so I can fix your stockings,” said Karen.

Ana carefully stood and checked her makeup in a handheld mirror while Karen straightened the hems of her stockings so that the thick black lines ran down the exact middle of the back of her legs.

“You have dancer’s legs,” said Karen.

“Gracias! I used to be strong. I donce a lot.”

“Go ahead and sit and I’ll put your shoes on.”

“Mom, I can’t believe how pretty you look.”

“Whaddya mean you can’t believe it?” said Karen. “She was always pretty.”

“Well, yeah I know, but you know what I mean.”

“Of course I do. I’m only kidding, can’t you tell?”

Diego smiled. “I think I better get up to Atlantic Avenue and hail a cab. I want mom to get a seat in church.”

Ana blew her son a kiss. “Good idea, Hijo.”

Taxis heading back to Manhattan often cruise Atlantic Avenue on their way to the Brooklyn Bridge in order to avoid traffic on Flatbush Avenue. In less than ten minutes, an empty one pulled to the curb.

“Turn left here. I’m going to 240 Dean Street. I have to pick up my mother.”

“So where’re ya goin’ after dat?”

“St Paul’s on Court Street.”

“Dat’s a short hop. Why didn’tcha walk? I coulda got a ride to Manhattan by now.”

The disgruntled cabby lowered the red flag from the meter to a three o’clock position.

Diego looked away.
Thirty-five cents already and we haven’t even moved yet.

As soon as the taxi got to the front of the house, he ran up the stoop and into the kitchen.

“How come you don’t have your coat on?” he said.

“Ees too ugly to put on over thees preedy dress. I have thees instead.” Ana closed a black, lace shawl around her shoulders.

“It’s cold out. I’ll get your coat.”

He returned with it and held it open. An overall brown color, speckled with red, yellow, and white dots, the right pocket of the coat was torn with half of it hanging down the outside. The bottom button was missing, leaving a tuft of brown threads behind.

“I cannot find dee openeeng,” Ana said. She continued to feel behind herself for the sleeve through the tattered lining.

“I’m always wanting to feex thees coat, but I’m forget to send Diego to buy dee thread I need. There…now dee other one.”

She adjusted the coat around her shoulders before fastening the buttons. “Eef I knew I was go to dee church…”

Karen said. “Don’t worry, Ana, it doesn’t look that bad. I’ll help you down the stairs.”

Arriving at church by 10:50, Diego and another parishioner assisted Ana up the stone steps to the double doors where the last of the nine o’clock faithful were still exiting. She immediately took off the coat, stuck it under her arm and entered the third pew from the front. The coat, she left folded on the bench, adjusting the shawl over her full breast before sitting down.

Nudges from attentive wives turned their men’s focus away from her and back to the altar.

The rest of the church soon filled with every seat taken and the back entryways starting to crowd with late standees. Bob Scanlon and his wife were in a row opposite Ana’s, and he had noticed.

Fifteen minutes before the end of the service, Diego walked three blocks up Court Street to hail a cab on Atlantic Avenue.

Outside the church, four men stood on all sides of Ana with offers to assist her down the steps. It took two to hold the taxi door open.

“Why didn’t you put your coat on?” said Diego.

“Ees not so cold,” she said.

“She’ll be all right,” said a man holding her gently by the hand.

At the top of the steps, Scanlon watched her go into the cab.

“Are you coming?” his impatient wife asked.

“I’ll be right there. Don’t worry about me! Go on, what’re ya waitin’ for? I’ll catch up!” He folded his arms in front of his chest. “Look at them two,” he muttered, to no one but himself, his head shaking subtly from side to side.

“Court and Carol,” Diego said.

The taxi zipped straight down Court Street, and in less than six minutes, pulled in front of Rinaldi’s Pizzeria.

Ana sat up straight and peered out of the window. “What are we doeeng here?”

“Come on, Mom. I’m treating you to lunch.”

Excited for the rare treat, Ana couldn’t believe all that was happening. “Oh, mine goodness. Thank you, Hijo.”

“Don’t worry about getting home, either. I have enough.”

A table inside, next to a window, was empty. Ana laid her coat across her lap, stuck the torn linings inside the sleeves and folded it over. “Thees day ees so good. No rain, I’m go to church, we take a toxi, and now ju are buyeeng me pizza.”

The kitchen door to the restaurant swung open. “Diego! Slap me five, man.”

“Hey, Louis. How’s everything?”

“Good! Long time no see.”

“This is my mother.”

“Hi, Ma’me.” Impressed, Louis asked, “What can I get you folks?”

“A large pizza, two Cokes and some zeppolis.”

“You got it! I’ll be right back.”

“Well, Mom, are you havin’ fun?”

“I’m likeeng dees. So ju were here before?”

This is the place I told you about. Remember last summer when me and Mr. Jackson, and Larry, and the guys all went to the piers?”