Chulito (16 page)

“I got chu, Rey.” Kamikaze didn’t move. Chulito followed his lead.

Rey moved in close and Chulito could see him in his peripheral vision. Rey wasn’t covered in tattoos and greasy looking the way Chulito had imagined him. His skin was light and he had black, trimmed moustache. He wore a white Kangol hat pulled down low and a light green plaid shirt. Although he was sweaty from running he smelled like the fresh Florida water Chulito’s grandmother used in her rituals. Rey growled into Kamikaze’s ear. “So you saw nothing, right?”

“Nothin’,” Kamikaze responded quietly.

“You got the loot?”

“It’s in my pants. Can I get it?”

“No, Kaz, you keep you hands on the dash board. Felix, get it,” Rey said to the Black guy.

“It’s under my balls,” Kamikaze said.

“Get it, Felix.” Felix lifted the waistband to Kamikaze’s blue sweats and reached in, pulled out a bundle of money and handed it over to Rey.

“I’ll send Felix down with your shit. Wait here, but I ain’t playin’, Kamikaze. You say something or you don’t play straight, I’ll order a Diallo on you and your boy here.” Then Rey dropped Kamikaze’s gun into his lap and he got out of the car with Felix.

Kamikaze looked pale. “This ain’t good, Chuly-chu.”

“What happened, Kaz?”

Kamikaze told Chulito that when he went up to El Papa’s, Felix answered the door. He thought something was up when he saw Rey instead of El Papa. When he asked for El Papa, Rey said he was out, then Rey and Felix laughed like they had a secret. Then Rey said, “You wanna see El Papa? He’s in his room. Go ahead. Go see him.” He opend the bedroom door and El Papa lay on the carpet with his throat slit. They wanted to show off and show him who was the new boss. Kamikaze bolted out the apartment.

“Rey was El Papa’s right hand man, Chulito. This ain’t good.”

The excitement and bling had been taken out of the game for Chulito and the danger kicked in full force. In the year that he’d been working with Kamikaze it had been mostly smilin’ and glidin’. Now he wanted to get out of the car and run away. Take Carlos and get far away from the city. Carlos! Chulito picked up his cell phone, which was still flipped open. He held it to his ear, and then closed it. He wondered if Carlos had heard a play by play of what just happened. “Should we go? Get the fuck out of here?”

“You crazy? Rey is no joke. He just slit his boss’ throat. Now if he got orders to do it, then it’s just a change in management. But if he’s being maverick, things are gonna get crazy and we are gonna have to lay low to see what’s up.”

Felix came down with a big Duane Reade bag. It was stapled shut at the top. Kamikaze got out of the car.

“Who the fuck told you to get out of the car?”

“Sorry, man.” Kamikaze started to get back in.

“Hold up, nigga. Here, take your shit.” Kamikaze took the bag, opened the trunk and looked inside the bag.

“It’s all there.”

“I’ll call in a couple of days.” Kamikaze locked the trunk and replaced Chulito in the driver’s seat.

They distributed their booty as quickly as possible and collected loot the whole day. Kamikaze hardly paid any attention to Chulito but made several calls, his forehead creased with worry the whole time. He even spoke aloud in the car, trying to make sense of the situation and figure out what was next. “Gotta check the account…I gotta call up Rodrigo in the Bahamas just in case we need to bounce…Make sure all my boys are locked and loaded.”

Kamikaze took his personal stash and when they were done with business, they headed back to his crib. “We gonna have to lay low here until I find out what the deal is. Call your mom, and let her know you wit me. I’m thinking a day or two tops.”

The night after the incident with Rey, Chulito sat eating rib tips and beef fried rice with Kamikaze in front of the TV, wondering what was going on in Carlos’ mind. He felt like he blew it again. Chulito was freaked out by what went down and he couldn’t imagine Carlos wanting to see him again. Instead of doing something to bring them closer, he’d given Carlos a solid reason to stay the hell away from him.

Kamikaze was on the cell a lot, getting the lowdown on El Papa and Rey and keeping in touch with his team. He had them get extra muscle because business had to continue. He connected with his special clients and told them that he would be out of town but that they could call him if they had an emergency. It was early in the week, so they had time to recoup before the weekend demand.

Kamikaze picked up a white take-out container and poked around in it with chopsticks. He popped a piece of sesame chicken into his mouth and sat beside Chulito. “Sorry about all this, little bro, but I’m glad you were with me. I hate this part of the game, but unfortunately it’s just a part of it and we can’t pick and choose the parts we like from the parts we hate.” He raised his thick eyebrows and searched Chulito for a response.

Chulito shook his head. “To be straight up, I ain’t never been so scared in my life. When they had those guns pressed up on us…”

Kamikaze slid over, wrapped his arm around Chulito’s neck, pulled him closer and kissed his temple. “I try to keep you protected from all that, but either way I got your back. You know that, right?”

For a split second, feeling close and protected, Chulito thought of sharing what he was feeling about Carlos, but he backed off. What if I got all open with Kaz, risked my friendship with him, and Carlos is not even feeling me anymore? Besides, Kamikaze had bigger concerns at the moment.

Later, as Kamikaze slept, Chulito found a quiet moment to finally call Carlos. “Hey, Carlos.”

“Chulito, are you O.K.? What happened?”

Chulito realized that maybe Carlos had heard something. “What did you hear?”

“You said, ‘Oh shit,’ then I heard fumbling then the phone when out. I called you back but it kept going to voice mail so I thought something must have happened to your phone and I was busy at work, so I put my phone on vibrate and waited for you to call or text.”

Chulito sighed. He’d been all worried that Carlos had heard the whole deal and he would have to give a big explanation.

“Hey, Chulito. What happened?”

“Nothing. My phone just…” Chulito stopped.

After a few seconds Carlos said, “Hello? Are you there?” Then he said to himself, “His phone must be fucked.”

“I’m here.” Chulito took a deep breath to calm himself. He looked over to make sure Kamikaze was still asleep. “Carlos, some crazy shit went down.”

“What? Are you O.K.?”

Chulito liked hearing the concern in Carlos’ voice. “Yeah, I’m cool but…” He paused. He felt that if he came clean about what happened he would lose Carlos, and the same time he felt he had to be real and Carlos needed to know who he was if they were going to even try this. “Some crazy shit happened.” Chulito gave Carlos a play by play of what went down. All the while Carlos was silent, but Chulito pushed on and when he was done his armpits were soaked.

“So, I been at Kaz’s all day. We layin’ low as a precaution, but I think everything is O.K. Sorry I didn’t call you right away. Been feelin’ like shit.”

He heard Carlos breathing heavily. Then Carlos said coldly, “I don’t want to be involved in anything like that.”

Fuck! Chulito thought. “Hold up, Carlos, please.” Chulito shut Kamikaze’s bedroom door and sat on the couch to calm himself, because he knew Carlos’ next words would be about staying away from him. “Carlos, I’m thinking of getting out of this game, but I can’t just now. You hear me?”

“I hear you, but how are you going to do that?”

“I’ll work that part out. It might take some time.” Chulito rubbed his chest. “Damn, I really want to see you. I want us to be together.”

“Chulito, maybe we shouldn’t see each other, well, not until you get out of the game. If you do get out of the game.”

Chulito felt as if he’d poured gasoline all over himself by coming clean and Carlos’ words were like a match igniting the flame. He continued to whisper, “Carlos, how you gonna say some shit like that? If I could get out and it be clean, I would do it this minute, but you know it ain’t that easy.”

Carlos was silent.

“Please don’t do this to me.” Chulito pleaded. “Not when we are getting so close, pa.”

“I didn’t do anything to you. I don’t want any of that drug shit in my life. What you said about the guns and the threats scares the shit out of me. Not only am I going to have to worry about my own life, but I’ll be worried about you, too.”

“You will?”

“Chulito, don’t try it.”

“O.K., sorry ‘bout all that, about everything. I promise you, Carlos, I will get out of the game. Please stick with me. I will keep it all away from you, but don’t leave me before we even got started.”

Carlos was silent, then said, “Let’s talk face to face.”

Chulito jumped up and pumped his arm up in the air as if the Yankees had hit a home run. He tried to not sound excited. “O.K., but I gotta lay up here in Kamikaze’s place one more day, just to be sure things are cool. What time do you get off work Friday?”

“I’m off on Fridays.”

Chulito had to do runs with Kamikaze, but he thought it would be best not to mention that. “I should be around the block at, like, four o’clock. You gonna be around?”

“Yeah, but I was gonna get together down in the Vil with some friends who are home from school. You willing to come downtown?”

Chulito hesitated. He wanted to hang with Carlos but not with a bunch of friends, especially college friends who might put him down. “What time do you gotta meet them?”

“Like seven or eight, it’s kind of flexible.”

“O.K., maybe I could ride down with you and we can talk on the train. Then I’ll head back uptown and let you do your thang with your friends.”

“You can come to the Vil, too.”

Chulito was excited and concerned about going to the Village. Concerned because he felt that was moving faster than he wanted. At the same time he had wondered for so long about Carlos’ world and knew that if he wanted to get closer to Carlos he would have to go to where Carlos wanted to go, so he agreed. He shrugged his shoulders and laughed quietly. “What the fuck?”

Chulito didn’t make it back to Hunts Point until six. He dashed into his room and heard music playing above, so he knew Carlos was still home. He tried not to sound out of breath from running as he held his cell phone with his shoulder. “Yo, Carlos, wassup?”

“Hey, Chulito, I thought you chickened out.”

“Yo, I did not chicken out. I just got delayed.”

“You’re still coming downtown?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Chulito said playfully. “I was gonna hang out with some friends who are home from college for the summer, too.”

“You’re making fun of me, Chulito?”

“Listen to you getting all huffy. Don’t get all protective and shit.”

“Then stop playing.”

“I just gotta change right quick, give me five. Why don’t you head out to the train and I’ll meet you there?”

“I can wait.”

“Nah, go to the train. I’ll met you there.”

“Don’t take long or I’ll bounce.”

“Bounce? If you the Carlos I know, your ass will be right there waiting.”

“Leave my ass out of it. All of me will be there but not forever, Chulito.”

“You always gotta be messin’ around. Give me five, O.K., ten tops. I’ll meet you at the bench inside the station before the stairs you go down to the trains.”

“I’m serious, Chulito. Don’t take long. You’ve had me waiting long enough.”

Chulito checked himself out in his mirror. He studied his profile, smoothed out any loose hairs and pressed down his eyebrows. He knew that Carlos liked what he saw, so he had to be perfect. But he suddenly felt nervous. What did Carlos want with him besides what he could see in the mirror? What could he offer Carlos? He didn’t have a real job or even a high school diploma. What if Carlos got bored with him? And who were these friends in the Vil? Were there any past loves?

Chulito shook off his doubt and looked out the window. He saw Carlos crossing the street and checking out the corner where the fellas had already begun to pass around a bottle of Hennessey. He continued across the street and headed to the train station.

Chulito pulled off the yellow FuBu Shirt he was wearing and pulled the plastic off of a red Rocawear jersey he had taken out of the cleaners. He couldn’t just put it on after running around all day with Kamikaze, so he undressed and took a quick shower. Back in his room he sprayed CK One all over himself, including his ass and his balls, and flinched because he never got used to the alcohol’s sting. He put on clean socks, boxers, and the size thirty-eight Levi shorts that came down to his shins. He put on the red Rocawear jersey without a t-shirt underneath it. It was short sleeved and had snaps on the front that he closed except for the last two on top and the last two on the bottom. He checked out his braids and pulled on a red du-rag. He tied it nice and tight and topped it all off with a Yankee cap fitted to size. Then he slipped into a pair of dark blue Timberland boots. He checked himself one last time in the mirror, grabbed his wallet, watch, keys, and phone, turned off the light and yelled, “¡Bendición!” out to his mom as he slipped out the door.