Chulito (23 page)

“I meant every word I wrote and I agree the song is sappy, but it’s how I’m feeling.”

“Me, too. And you signed it ‘Love, Carlos.’”

“I mean that, too. So how much longer will you need space?”

Chulito didn’t want any more space. He wanted to see and be with Carlos that very instant. When he was on the corner with the fellas and saw Carlos walk by, he wanted to say that he missed him right there and then. “I want to see you right now, but we gotta be careful, Carlos. Brick spoke to me, which bugged me out a bit, but how do I know that he’s not gonna tell anybody? And I saw you go into Julio’s. So I guess you told him, too.”

“Julio and Brick are not gonna tell, but I hear you. I won’t let anybody else know.”

Chulito relaxed and lay down on his bed and ran his hand down his body. “I just don’t understand what’s going on with me. All I know is that I felt really good with what you wrote. And I don’t want you hurting, not when I am feeling the same shit. I just need to take it slow.”

“So when do I get to see you?”

“Now,” he said jokingly. “Wanna take a cab down to the Vil?”

Carlos chuckled. “If that’s the only option, but I got to be up for my internship in the morning.”

“O.K., I don’t want to be corrupting you by taking you out at all hours of the night.”

“You know I’ll go.”

“Nah, get your rest, but what if I meet you when you get out of work?”

“What about the rooftop, now?”

Chulito laughed. “You are buggin’.”

“I could check it out first, with a flashlight.”

“Let’s leave the rooftop alone.”

“O.K., then tomorrow. I get out at four.”

“Good night, Carlos. I’m gonna listen to the sappy song again. Who is this cat singing?”

“Barry Manilow.”

Chulito snorted. “It’s more like Sappy Manilow.”

Chulito waited outside the
New York Daily News
, listening to Sappy Manilow through his earphones, but when Carlos appeared he closed his eyes and bopped his head as if he were listening to Pun or Tupac. When Carlos reached him he shoved his shoulder.

Chulito lowered his shades and continued to bop. “This is the shit.”

“Big Pun?”

Chulito slipped an earphone in Carlos’ ear.

Carlos smiled. “Sappy Manilow? You’re listening to Sappy Manilow outside your room? The thug police are gonna come and arrest you.”

Chulito bit his lower lip. “Man, I wanna kiss you right here.”

“I dare you.” Carlos puckered.

Chulito adjusted Carlos’ collar saying, “I don’t want to wrinkle your pretty, white shirt.”

Carlos tapped the brim of Chulito’s fitted Yankee cap. “Chicken. Wanna go upstairs and check out the offices?”

“Really? But I ain’t dressed right.” Chulito gestured to his ribbed, white tank top, long, baggy faded blue jeans, and white New Balance sneakers. “Look at you all khaki Dockers and I look like—”

Carlos interrupted him. “You look fine, trust me. You look damn fine. C’mon, I asked my boss before I came down if it was O.K.” Carlos turned and Chulito followed him through the large glass doors. “They’re just a bunch of offices, I can’t go to where they print the newspaper and stuff, but I can show you where all the reporters sit and the meeting rooms.”

They walked by the security guard. Carlos said hi and showed his badge and Chulito signed in. Upstairs, Carlos gave him a tour of the offices. He introduced him to his boss, Maite Junco, a Latina who wore glasses, had a mass of thick shoulder length hair and who didn’t talk much because she was on deadline.

When Carlos showed Chulito his desk Chulito sat down and pretended to type on the computer. “This is pretty dope. You got your own desk. So what do you do?”

Carlos explained that he scheduled appointments or interviews for his boss and he printed out press releases announcing events and logged them in. He answered the phone, filed reports, proofread articles and took lunch orders.

Chulito jumped up from the seat. “That sounds like a lot. You ain’t afraid of fuckin’ some shit up?”

Carlos shrugged his shoulders. “I think I do a good job.”

“I bet you do. Nobody better mess with you.”

Carlos showed him a large conference room where the writers from the entertainment section were having a meeting and Chulito recognized some of the movie critics from their picture in the newspaper. All around there were people typing on computers and others were rushing around.

“Wow, Carlos this is the real deal.”

Carlos smiled and nodded. “Yup, I really like it, too.” Carlos leaned on the edge of his desk and Chulito settled in Carlos’ rolling chair. “I feel alive here. This is what I want to do because journalists have to be in touch with the world and report back on what they experienced and learned. Then people read newspapers to get information that we provide and that helps them form opinions, learn about the world, even make decisions about what movie to see or what book to read.”

Chulito loved the energy in Carlos’ eyes and at the same time felt small and unimportant because he had no legit plans for his life. “Well, you always had the brains and you’re on your way, right? Doin’ ya thang here?”

Carlos smiled. “Yep. I wish I could start working here right now, but I’ll finish school first, maybe even go to Columbia School of Journalism after.” Carlos tapped the brim of Chulito’s baseball cap again. “Let’s go.”

Chulito and Carlos walked from West 33rd Street to the pier.

“That was so dope. So you gonna get a job there when you finish all your schoolin’? Am I gonna be seeing your name in the paper?”

“I’ll work there or at some newspaper, but what about you? What might you want to do?” Carlos stopped at a cart and Chulito paid for a Coke and a Diet Pepsi.

Chulito shrugged. “I used to think that I wanted to be a rapper, but I think I just wanted to be famous.”

“I only ask because you said you wanted to get out of the game, right?”

Chulito nodded and looked over at the Hudson River which glistened in the late afternoon sun. He’d said it, but faced with coming up with an answer, he felt at a loss. He was familiar with the benefits and risks of the game, even dealing with crazy scenes like surviving the one with Rey.

Carlos leaned into Chulito. “You are so beautiful you could be a famous model, Chulito. That sunlight just loves your skin.” Carlos pretended to snap his picture.

Chulito puffed up his chest. “No doubt.” He nudged Carlos. “You beautiful, too, Carlos. I can’t believe I’m saying shit like this, but it’s what’s going on in me.”

“Thanks, Chulito.” The smile on Carlos’ face made Chulito realize how much he liked that Chulito expressed his feelings.

Chulito liked where they were heading together. “What else you like about me?”

“Everything.”

“Like what? Because I be thinking about you and me a lot. And not, like, us just right now, I think about, like, later and shit. You know. The future?”

Carlos nodded and sipped his Diet Pepsi.

“And you got your shit together and I, well, you got me thinking about what I’m doing, like I ain’t finish high school, and my job is, let’s just say, not legit. And I know you got fellas up at school, educated and shit, sweatin’ you, so—” Chulito didn’t know where this was coming from. When he got ready to meet Carlos, he was just excited to be seeing him, especially since he freaked out after being caught on the roof.

“Chulito, you want to sit a moment.” Carlos sat on bench along the West Side Highway. Chulito stood next to the bench, put one foot on it and leaned against his knee.

“I’m sorry, Carlos, I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Chulito, I love being with you because we’re from the same place. I get you and you get me. I’ll admit, I hate Hunts Point sometimes. Well, a lot, but that neighborhood and those people are a part of me, too. And you and my mom are reasons why I love the neighborhood.” Carlos played with the laces on Chulito’s sneaker. “And it feels good to know you got my back.”

Chulito smiled. “No doubt.” Then he checked out his surroundings before kissing Carlos’ forehead.

Carlos smiled. “And some guys up at school don’t get me, or they think they do. They hear I’m from the Bronx, from the South Bronx, and expect one thing. But look at us, we’re both South Bronx, different in a lot of ways and the same in others.”

Chulito admired how Carlos knew how to make sense of things. The fellas on the corner did a lot of talking but it very often made no sense to Chulito. They could spend hours passionately talking about Derek Jeter or the Shaq, but what did that really matter in the grand scheme of their lives? But the fellas were far away and he was here with Carlos. Chulito sat next to him, took a deep breath and when he exhaled he put his arm around Carlos. The cars whizzed by and Chulito wondered if someone he knew might drive by.

Carlos rested his head on Chulito’s shoulder.

“I just get scared, Carlos. Why you wasting your time with a nigga like me?”

“I’m not the kind of guy who likes to waste time, so forget about that. I love being with you, and how excited and new everything is to you—going to the pier, walking on Christopher Street and meeting my friends.” Carlos looked into Chulito’s eyes. “Even this. Us sitting on this bench. I never would have thought it could really happen with you, and here we are. You keep surprising me.”

Traffic started to slow down and since Chulito could see the people in the cars, he thought they could see them, too. “C’mon let’s keep walking.”

“I know this is tough for you, Chulito. I think about the future, too, but we’re here and now and we just gotta take this day by day.”

Chulito nodded. He wanted to take Carlos’ hand and hold it, like that young couple he’d seen in the subway, but instead just walked side by side.

The pier sizzled with activity but Kenny spotted them.

“So, is Carlos turning you into a pier queen, Chulito? Only kidding,” Kenny said before Chulito could respond, then he turned to Carlos. “Why are you dressed like you’re from Planet Nerd?”

“Chulito picked me up at work and we just walked over.”

Kenny pulled at the little tuft of hair he had growing under his lower lip. “He picked you up? I have several questions, but which to ask first?”

“None of them,” Carlos said. “Who’s here?”

“The twins are trying to pick up a couple of French-Algerian break dancers. Lee was here, but she flew away—she had to go slave for her family.”

“Lee is from the Chinese restaurant on Hunts Point Ave,” Carlos explained.

“From Spring Garden? He comes here?” Alarmed, Chulito looked around. “But you said he’s gone right?”

“Hours ago,” Kenny said. “And The Hetrick-Martin/Harvey Milk graduating class is over by the water drinking wine coolers and handing out flyers for the Gay Pride Youth Dance.” He showed Carlos a lime green flyer.

“You going?” Carlos asked.

“Definitely. It’s gonna be like a second prom and Lady Elektra is gonna perform. You should come.”

“Maybe.” Carlos looked over to Chulito who shrugged.

“Something is up with you two. And it’s not my imagination.”

“Kenny, we’re just hanging. Right, Chulito?”

Chulito nodded and his scowl spread into a smile.

Kenny looked Carlos in the eye. “I knew it. I’m not talking to you, Carlos. I hate you.” He started toward the wine coolers, then he stopped about fifteen feet away from them and turned shouting, “I hate you, Carlos!” Then Kenny laughed. “I’ll save you two some wine coolers if you want. I’ll be by the water, and oh, God, I hate you Carlos.” Kenny ran off.

“He’s a funny dude,” Chulito said.

“Wanna go get those wine coolers?”

“No doubt.”

They waved to the twins as they passed them. They saw Pito and Sebastian with the Harvey Milk senior class, sipping wine coolers out of brown paper bags.

“So tell me, Carlos.” Kenny handed them raspberry coolers. “It was less than a week since I saw you two, right?”

Chulito and Carlos nodded.

Kenny clinked bottles with Carlos. “You work fast, bitch.”

“It’s not what you think, Kenny. We’re just friends.”

“Oh, cut the shit and spill the details.”

Carlos turned serious. “Stop with the questions or we’re going to leave.”

Watching Pito and Sebastian make out, Chulito longed to kiss Carlos.

“O.K., so then I’ll talk,” Kenny said. “Guess who I finally hooked up with? Kevin. Do you remember him, Chulito? You met him when we were on our way here the day I met you.”

Chulito nodded.

“Well, let me tell you, the rumors are true. Nine by seven, he let me measure it. I gagged, literally.”

“Too much information, bro,” Chulito said.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to excite you.”

“That doesn’t excite me.” Chulito shook his head and looked away at a butch and femme Latina couple dancing salsa by the water.

“Well, even if nothing is going on with you two, I don’t care. You look happy, Carlos, and if just walking around with Chulito makes you happy, then so be it.” Kenny hugged Carlos and turned to Chulito. “This guy is my best, best friend. I love him like a sister, and if he weren’t my sister I would be making a play for him myself. And there are many others who would like to sink their claws, amongst other things, into him.”