Primitivo

by Croft, Rose

  “It’s on lock,” Emilio warned and gave him that “don’t go there” look. Emilio was unlimited shades of emotions. He was charming. He was the sweetest person in the world. But he could lose his shit if you pushed him. And tonight, he looked like he might be close to his limit. Not to mention, you were dead in his eyes if you ever screwed him over which in his mind, I’d done too many times. I’d already died several deaths.

  “We need to write a report,” Officer Martinez, I think, spoke. He seemed put out by all that was going on around us. “Do you agree with her statement?”

  “Yes,” Emilio answered. “It’s true.”

  The officer scribbled something on his notepad. “Are you pressing charges?”

  Emilio covered his mouth with his hand. He looked at me for a few ticks. He didn’t seem to like either decision.

  “What are you waiting for? Have her ass arrested,” Vince said and scowled. “I have better things to do with my life than deal with this shit.”

  Emilio was still studying me like a lab experiment. The time was passing in slow motion, but I couldn’t pull my gaze away from him. I’d already reconciled myself to going to jail. I would do it for him.

  He sighed heavily, running a finger over his brow. “Yes, I want to press charges.”

  My heart sank, but I knew it was meant to be. What should be. I deserved any pain coming my way. I earned it. At least, I felt some sort of satisfaction that I was owning up to what I did.

  The female officer, Johnson, told me to put my hands behind my back and she cuffed my hands and recited the Miranda Act. “I deserve this, Papi. Just know I did it to protect you and Eric. I love you. Always.”

  Emilio stood as still as a statue. No emotion revealed on his face.

  “Okay, we’re going to walk to the car,” Officer Johnson said, and I allowed her to lead me away with my eyes still on Emilio. I would never get tired of seeing him. He was my life.

  Emilio

  This was like watching a bad reality show about stupid criminals. Not to mention, surreal. I watched as the officer lowered Sofía’s head to fit into the squad car. Unbelievable. Eric’s mother was going to jail after vandalizing my property.

  I deserve this, Papi. Just know I did it to protect you and Eric.

  What the fuck was that? She’s AWOL for years and now I see her again, and she wants to say she did all this because she’s protecting us? Was this some kind of Mr. Miyagi hidden message bullshit I was supposed to know?

  “We did a check around the property and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary,” another officer said.

  Soon, the squad cars were filing out, and I couldn’t stop staring at the taillights of the car she was in. I was still in shock. I never thought it would come to this.

  “You okay?” Vince asked. I knew that fucker wanted to say more about her, but he didn’t.

  “I’m fine, bro.” My heartbeat raced like a junkie on crack. My conscience was mentally beating my ass over sending a woman to jail. Sending Eric’s mother to jail. I used to imagine a day where I’d make Sofía pay for her sins. However, this didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right, lately.

  Adrian clicked off his phone and strolled up beside my brother. “Do you want to talk about it?” He reached out patted me on my shoulder and his eyes were solemn.

  “No, I don’t.” I wasn’t in the mood for Adrian to give me more consultation. “I’m good.” I started thinking about Sofía again. How she was willingly ready to turn herself in. I love you. Always. She said it tonight, and it felt like poison was strumming through my veins. Her words held no value to me anymore. Yet, why did I feel guilty? I shouldn’t. She was hanging around my building after hours with the intent to vandalize and break in. Why would she break into an unoccupied space? What would she gain?

  It finally dawned on me she couldn’t have been alone, but when they asked her questions about being with others, she denied it and said she acted alone. Why?

  “I’m tired, man. Let’s go home. Besides, who knows what Eric’s up to with Yovani watching him.” I had some things to take care of this evening and texted Yovani to keep an eye on Eric since I thought it would take an hour tops. Three hours later…

  “That pushover probably took Eric to Chuck E. Cheese, so they could eat pizza and play video games.” Vince chuckled. “He acts like a damn four-year-old himself.” Vince didn’t lie about our younger brother. If he could live on pizza, cake, and video games, he would.

  I groaned and cursed under my breath. “Eric’s probably still up, and he has school at seven forty-five in the morning.” It was after ten thirty in the evening, and Eric had started pre-kinder this week. I’m not saying I was the best parent in the world, but I always strived to do the best thing for my son. I’d always asked for and followed the advice of his pediatrician. When to put him to bed. Eat a balanced meal. Drink water. Avoid sugary drinks and sodas. Read to him every night and encourage conversations. Play and get lots of exercise. Limit his TV watching as well as iPad, computer, etc.

  I wanted Eric to do so much more than me in school. I hated school and had a difficult time because of my limited knowledge of English when we moved here from El Salvador. It was so hard for me starting here in fourth grade, not being able to read and write in my native language, which made it much harder to learn as an English language learner. I never loved reading. Not to mention, I was always distracted in class. My mind just couldn’t focus. However, I liked math. That was the only subject I had any interest in.

  Although I hated reading as a kid, I promised myself to read to Eric every night. And I did. It was our ritual. I enjoyed it because he enjoyed it. I also told old fables that Mami would tell us as kids and Eric listened with wide eyes and always wanted to hear the stories again. Those moments between us were priceless and made everything I did worthwhile.

  Eric could write his name, knew most of the letters in the alphabet, could tie his shoes… I followed those lists of what your child should be able to do at a certain age like it was law. I was his only parent and knew I couldn’t drop the ball on this.

  Unfortunately, as I suspected, I made it home to see Eric and Yovani pimped out on the couch with video controllers in their hands playing Yovani’s latest game Retribution: The Fallen Ones II.

  “S’up bro?” Yovani waved negligently before leaning in as he fired at one of the dragons on the screen, as if time were overrated or a foreign concept to my fuckhead brother.

  “Dang, Tío, that was sick!” Eric shouted in glee and frantically moved his thumbs firing shots, too. When the hell did Eric talk like an eighteen-year-old dudebro? Oh wait. He was with my dickhead, annoyingly-over-casual brother.

  Eric was kicked back in his athletic shorts, the same ones he wore to school today and shirtless. Yovani hadn’t even made him take a bath? My hands clenched. “What the… F… U… C… K, hermano?”

  Eric repeated the letters and thought for a moment. “Papi spelled fuck!” His eyes grew wide and he oohed and turned to Yovani.

  Yovani snorted but tried to recover when he saw my sour expression. “Little man, I don’t think your dad would be happy hearing you say that shit.”

  I was gonna kill my brother. I stomped over to the game console and clicked it off. “Game over.”

  “What? Come on, man. We were about to get to the next level.” Yovani had that chill-ass smirk on his face and leisurely sat up.

  “I’m about to kick your…” I wanted to say ass, thought about spelling it out, but apparently my son could put letters and sounds together. “Booty. Do you realize it’s over two hours past Eric’s bedtime?”

  “We got sidetracked, bro.” Yovani shrugged as if that were a legitimate excuse.

  “Imma ’bout to get sidetracked too, Yovani.” I was gonna bust his lip in a minute. “Eric has school tomorrow. I told you this sh—stuff on the phone.”

  “Papá… I’m not tired.”

  “Too bad. You gotta go to bed.” I leveled my scowl on my younger brot
her. “You have to get up extra early to take a shower, since Tío obviously got ‘sidetracked.’”

  Eric dropped his head and set the controller on the coffee table. “Can we play tomorrow Tío Yo-yo?” He peered at Yovani.

  “Yeah, little man.” He reached across with his fist to give Eric some dap.

  “Come on.” I sighed. “Let’s get you to bed. You’ve got a long day tomorrow.” I followed Eric to his room. He slipped off his shorts and pulled out the drawer from his dresser and found one of his many soccer jerseys to sleep in. He pulled it over his head. “Will you read me a story?”

  Jeez, it was late, but I couldn’t say no to reading a book to my son. “Sure, buddy, what do you want to read?”

  He ran over and pulled a book from his bookshelf. “This one.”

  “Ah, Harry the Dirty Dog. You can relate to this story, huh?” It was about a dog who didn’t like taking baths, so he hid his brush in the backyard and ran away. We’d read it several times before.

  I flipped through the pages, and Eric always laughed and acted shocked at the same moment he always did. Sometimes I wondered if he was doing this whole act to appease me knowing the joy I got out of reading this with him.

  When I closed the book, Eric asked, “Why were you so late? You seem unhappy.”

  Dammit. My son was too observant for his own good. “Work, Eric. I had a lot of stuff to do to prepare for tomorrow.” I wouldn’t even think about what happened tonight. Nothing to see here. Move along.

  I had to tell myself this shit to keep my sanity.

  Sofía

  Two days. Forty-eight hours and God knows how many minutes I’d spent in the county jail. I wasn’t going to say this was how I thought my story would go. In my mind, I thought I was being a hero, sacrificing myself in front of the man I love. Protecting him. Taking some kind of moral stand. But, sitting in a small cell sucked. I smelled like dogshit. The food was nothing to write home about, and I hadn’t heard from anyone. However, I’d had plenty of time to think about how I was going to change my life if I got out.

  “Flores, time to move,” a jailer called to me.

  I stood up and waited by the bars until the door opened. “What’s happening?”

  “Time to see the judge,” the warden said. “Tell it to the judge,” he joked and started whistling and humming a song I had no idea what it was.

  When we made it to the courtroom, I was guided to a bench in the front row in the center of a small room where a male judge who looked to be past the years of retirement resided in front of me. Great. He looked as stern as all get out, and I knew I was destined to spend more time in jail. Why even bother to plead my case? I had no personal lawyer. Only a guy in a dark suit who’d showed up that the court appointed. I had no defense. I’d never turn in Tito’s boys because I would be as good as dead.

  “Miss Flores, you were charged with vandalism.” The judge adjusted his glasses as he studied the paper in front of him. “The damages totaled over twenty-five hundred dollars which makes this not a misdemeanor, but a felony. Do you understand the severity of this? You’re facing up to three years in jail.”

  My heart raced with fear. I opened my mouth to apologize but was stopped by my attorney. He leaned in and whispered, “Let me do the talking.” At his insistence, I bobbed my chin nervously.

  My attorney adjusted his glasses and set down his manila file. “Your honor, my client deeply regrets her actions, and this was a first-time offense.” He gazed down at me with pity. “It was simply a sad case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “I see.” The judge pulled off his glasses and studied me. “Tell me, do you regret your actions?”

  “Y-Yes, sir.”

  He nodded before studying my paperwork. “Miss Flores, I searched through your files and noticed you were attending school and majoring in education and maintained a 4.0 GPA. That was a few years ago. Why did you quit?”

  “I couldn’t afford it anymore.” My past caught up with me.

  “Mmm.” He pointed his glasses at me. “I would suggest you seriously consider getting your life back in order and going back to school. There are several programs in the area that help kids, like yourself, fulfill their college dream.” If I wasn’t so nervous about serving time, I would’ve laughed at him calling me a kid. I was twenty-four. My dreams of becoming an early childhood teacher died as soon as Tito found me.

  I glanced at my attorney, Mr. Cox. Did this mean I wasn’t going to serve time? “You’re not home free, yet,” the judge said with a small smile. “Tell me, do you still want to be a teacher?”

  “More than anything in the world.”

  “Then, I suggest you stop hanging around the wrong crowd and recalibrate.” He put his glasses back on. “You will serve one year of community service and meet with a probation officer every month. One slip-up will land you back here, and honestly, I don’t want to see your face again unless it’s on a college graduation invitation. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes. Your honor.”

  “You’re free to go.” The only things in my possession were my shoes and clothes since I left my purse in Luis’ car. I didn’t have my cell. I didn’t want to call Tito from the precinct to pick me up. That’s the last thing I needed. He would’ve shown up covered in gang signs in front of police officers. That was like waving a red cape in front of a bull.

  I would figure something out. I could walk although Tito’s place was at least seven miles from here. Shielding my eyes, I stepped outside the precinct doors nearly blinded by the afternoon sun. I hadn’t seen daylight in over two days. I glanced down at the business card my attorney, Mr. Cox, gave me. Building Blocks a partnership in learning. “My sister runs a mentorship program in association with local schools for people looking to get their life in order. Give her a call, and I will put in a good word for you,” he’d said.

  “Why would you do this for me? You don’t even know me?”

  “Let’s just say I was granted a second chance in life, and I always want to pay it forward. It is my job, by the way.”

  I stuffed the card in my skinny jeans and took off down the sidewalk. As I reached the crosswalk waiting for the signal to change, I saw an SUV pull to a stop. I glanced back up to the signal waiting for the flashing walk sign.

  “Get in!” someone shouted next to me.

  I turned and my heart leapt in my throat. The car window was rolled down, and Emilio was leaned over the steering wheel with his aviators and an arrogant tilt to his lips.

  “Why?” I stood frozen in place.

  “Get in the car,” he sneered. “Now.”

  I stepped slowly to the car and gripped the handle opening the door. “Where are we going?” I slid into the passenger seat having a moment of familiarity. I was with him when he bought this car. I got this for you, baby, so you’d be the hot soccer mom.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I thought you told me to stay away.”

  “I did, and you don’t listen for shit, do you?” He sped through the city, zipping in and out of traffic. I sat silently while my eyes gravitated to him every few moments, but he said nothing.

  He hooked a right into a residential neighborhood. A very familiar neighborhood. Was he taking me to his house?

  He pulled into his driveway, and I stared with bittersweet fascination at the two-story Tudor style home. “Save your fake emotions and don’t get too comfortable. This won’t take long.” He yanked open the door and stalked to the front porch.

  I hesitated before I finally made myself step out. The memories of us were flooding through me, drowning me in regret and sorrow. I couldn’t do this. Whatever it was.

  My feet wobbled as if I were balancing myself on a tightrope.

  “Stop the fucking act, Gatita. I see through you.” He pushed open the front door waiting as I passed by him. I hated he hadn’t called me by my name once. It was one more reminder how he’d obliterated me from his life.

  When I step
ped into the living room, I tripped over something. A soccer ball. Was it Eric’s? Where was he? If I walked down the hall, would he still have the same room? What did his room look like? What did Eric like to do? It was on the tip of my tongue to ask.

  “He’s not here. He’s at school,” Emilio said flatly as he toe-tapped the soccer ball out of the way.

  “School?”

  “Jesus, he started pre-school this week. You don’t even know? He turned four.”

  “I know his birthday.” My voice shook, and my lips quivered. I’d missed so much. So much time I couldn’t get back. I felt nauseous. My mouth watered and I had to take deep breaths to keep from emptying my stomach. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  He gripped my arm leading me to the half-bath down the hall. “You’re sweating. Are you okay?”

  Bile was rising up my throat and he let me go as soon as I passed through the door. I ran to the toilet and dry heaved. Over and over. My stomach was empty. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning because the food was so horrible, I couldn’t stomach it.

  “The fuck’s wrong with you?” Emilio asked softly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his black shoes edge closer.

  My legs felt like rubber bands, and I had to will myself not to sink to the ground. “I’ll be all right. I need for my stomach to settle.”

  “When’s the last time you ate? They didn’t serve food in jail?”

  I rose up gingerly and moved to the sink and Emilio stepped back leaning against the door. “I couldn’t eat it.” I washed my hands and rinsed water over my face and neck trying to calm my nerves.

  “That bad, huh?”