by S. W. Frank
He leaned into his plush seat, eyeballing Lorenzo. “I’d make a green crown to signify money, insert a pink gem to symbolize my wife and family is always in my head.” He scoffed. “I’d even have gaudy ass baubles going around representative of this fake circular world we’re in. Then I’d put it on, bop around until it fell off or I sobered from the reality that money or titles can’t resurrect the dead.” Alfonzo’s masculine long lashes descended. “Yeah, nothing I do will bring back your pop. Is that really what you wanted to know Lorenzo, the depth of my heart?”
“I have found you are a complex man, and there is a heart beneath the coldness.”
“I’m glad to have your novice insight into my humanity.”
30
“Honey where are you?” Selange asked with a slur to her speech.
He was in the car ten minutes from home.
“On my way.”
“I need you.”
Alfonzo heard despair. “Babe what’s wrong?”
“I’m sick.”
“What do you mean you’re sick?”
“I didn’t want to tell you, I’ve been trying not to worry anybody but I’m scared.”
Alfonzo experienced a knot in his stomach. “What’s wrong? Just tell me.”
“My mammogram showed a suspicious lump. I’m having it biopsied today. I’m scared because I don’t know my family’s genetic history. The doctor says it might be cancer.”
The knot grew. “I’m almost home.”
“I need you to hold me, I can’t sleep.”
“I will. I’ll hold you babe,” he said as the vehicle rolled through the gate and halted outside of the estate he furnished for a family. The woman confessing how she needed her man held their family together.
Alfonzo burst through the door. His jacket swung open as he ran in the hall of the sleeping house. His feet took the stairs by threes. He was agile as a boy running down city blocks to catch the ice cream truck.
He pushed open the bedroom door to find his wife violently shaking with tears in the center of the bed. She didn’t stop crying at his intrusion, only sniffled and let go again.
He rushed to her side, gripping her head, pushing it to his shoulder and let her lean on him instead of carrying the secret weight.
“I’m scared…I’m scared honey,” she sobbed pitifully, holding his waist and tugging on his clothes.
“We’re in every fight together babe,” he replied with extremely compassionate eyes that fought to be strong as a new war neared.
He rocked her, whispering loving words, even singing their favorite song until she calmed and drifted to sleep in his arms. He sat there in his suit, thinking how fucking spiteful fate can be. The woman in his arms didn’t deserve the soul-ripping crisis. He’d gladly take her pain if he could and shoulder the uncertainty, but life never gave a man that option.
His eyes watered and he lay Selange down, pulled the cover over her and walked quickly to the bathroom, shut the door and dropped to his knees.
A strong man toppled off his blood throne by a herculean force and he tottered to keep from falling on his face.
“No mas, Padre de Dios, no mas!” he said with jagged breaths.
He should have known something was wrong with his wife. The fatigue and so many signs screamed alerts, but he’d been dealing with shits and family treachery, he hadn’t stopped to address the possibility of a medical issue.
How do you kill a foe that lives within someone you love? He asked himself.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He seethed, and balled his fists ignoring the physical pain.
His spirit ached.
Alfonzo’s body jerked from invisible kicks to his gut. He saw no life without his wife, no dream beyond the right now, and he grunted, holding his head back as if the tears could flow back inside. A grown man cries, they do, but it’s in private where others can’t observe or in the protective embrace of a single mother.
“You can’t do this. She’s the good one, she’s always been. Por favor Dios, I’m begging for my wife to get through this.”
Human rain flooded his cheeks and his chin hit his chest as it flowed to the floor. He remained on his knees for so long, he forgot he wasn’t in church.
“Al, are you all right?” Selange called.
He thought she’d gone to sleep.
Quick swipes with his palm dampened his hand. He wiped the wetness on his jacket.
“Yeah, babe. I thought you were sleeping!”
“I don’t sleep well unless you’re next to me, ever since what happened,” she replied.
The flood had ceased. He stood with sagged shoulders, rolled them back and tossed water on his face. “I’m coming babe. Gimme a sec and I’ll be right there!”
He removed his clothes, leaving them on the counter and kicked his shoes to the corner. When he stooped to pull off his socks, he sighed. He’d hold her down.
He opened the bathroom door, strolled to the bed and she smiled with that dimple.
He grinned as he lowered to the soft mattress and then pulled her over him for warmth, rubbing her ass while looking in her eyes that were always full of love. He wrapped his arms around his wife; held on extremely tight and kissed her nose.
“It’s going to be all right. You’re surrounded by an arsenal of love, sweetheart.”
BLOODLINES
Coming Fall 2015
Chapter One
Gliding down the streets of Harlem on my skateboard was the closest to flying. I mean, sure, I went hang gliding a few times on family vacations, but in New York City, cruising along the streets of Manhattan and dipping between cars and pedestrians with each forceful kick is an incomparable feeling. I turned on to a slightly less congested street that was paved with patches of weathered cobblestone. By then I had worked up a sweat trying to gain a good amount of distance from the Pits. I left them flustered in a convenience store after pretending to have been looking for feminine products. That was hilarious! Eventually I had to pay the cashier to stall them while I made my escape through the back door.
As the road lights dimmed, I slowly lifted my arms in the air and closed my eyes. I let my board take me away as I imagined myself flying over the New York skyline and circling the Empire State. I was so high up in my imagination that there was no thought of falling. And if I did, I would land gracefully on the deserted Brooklyn Bridge and keep walking as if everything was normal. Suddenly, a loud male voice interrupted my thoughts. I opened my eyes and swerved to avoid an oncoming collision with another skater.
; “Seriously?” I muttered as I spun on my heel to see the creep who liked playing chicken with strangers.
About twenty feet away a boy turned sharply, he moved fast on his skateboard, almost like he was drifting. As he got closer he cruised in an S-shape. His hair was jet black and shoulder length. It hung coolly over his face. My brow furrowed as I tried to get a better look at him. His hands were tucked in his pocket and he whistled obnoxiously loud. Who does that? I wondered if he was crazy and whether I should stay and meet the weirdo that wanted to knock me over a minute ago.
As he cruised closer I noticed a faint smile from under his thick hair. He stopped whistling. Standing five feet in front of me he reached his hand out of his pocket and pushed the hair from his face. He had furry eyebrows that hung low and from afar he looked like bad news, but his eyes were soft, welcoming even. In the nightlights they glistened with curiosity. His smile grew wider, showing off the top row of white teeth. His lips were very full and pink against his tanned skin. There was something about his face that was appealing, stupid, but appealing. Then I realized I was staring a bit too long.
“Like what you see?” He bit his lip and moved closer.
“Really?” I backed away and walked in the other direction, cursing myself for even showing the slightest bit of interest. I heard footsteps behind.
“Hey!”
I rolled my eyes, “Why are you pursuing me?”
“Pursuing you, who talks like that?” He chuckled as we waited for the indication to cross the street.
“You know a few more blocks and you’re considered a stalker.” I glanced at him in my peripherals checking for an expression.
“Then I guess, I have a few blocks to get to know you, right?”
What is it with American boys? “Wrong.” I said, as I hopped on my board. I had left my house to be alone. I know being alone in a city full of people is an oxymoron. But mentally, I wanted to get away from other personalities. No matter how much money you have, in New York there is very limited space. In Sicily, I could get lost in my dad’s vineyard or climb one of my favorite trees. Although I loved the city, the drastic change made me claustrophobic and it didn’t seem like I would get any privacy.
“My name is Makai by the way.” The boy glided next me on his board.
In unison we turned corners, doing kick offs with our left feet simultaneously. Anyone watching would think we did this often.
“That’s an interesting name,” I said. We entered into one of Manhattan’s piers. I sat on a bench and loosened the strings on backpack. I paused as Makai sat down next to me “Do you mind?”
He smiled and slid towards the other side of the bench. “So, I guess you’re not gonna tell me your name?”
I stared out at the river and slowly put on my headphones. When I turned on the music I replied, “Huh?”
Again, he shook his head forcing his dark hair to sway in front of his face. He slid closer, throwing his arm over the bench. “Your name?”
I looked at him with mock confusion and grabbed a bag of chips that were hidden in my stash. Slowly, I ate a few and gestured towards my headphones as I saw his lips moving. Immature, I know but I hoped he would get the hint and leave me alone.
Makai inched closer and I could smell the aroma of his skin. There was a natural odor, like, air mixed with sweat but it wasn’t appalling. It had a weird sweetness to it that kind of leered me in. He removed the headphones from my ear and leaned closer.
“Hey!” I pulled back from him. He obviously didn’t know how to gauge public space from personal space because right now, he was beyond crossing the boundary.
“You’re very rude, pretty girl”, he said, propping on leg up on the bench.
“Listen, it’s nothing personal. I don’t know you and I don’t know what you’re about. You look like a criminal.” He opened his mouth to protest. “Actually, right now, I really don’t care. I just wanted to sit here, listen to music and eat my chips. These are very good chips!” I pointed to the bag of sundried tomato flavored potato chips that I didn’t have access to in Sicily. But then again, it had never occurred to me before to get my father to have someone smuggle them from America. I shook my head at the late realization.
Makai raised an eyebrow and squinted at my obsession. “I guess you love your chips.”
I nodded.
“But, you know, those chips make me very thirsty. I’m sure you have something in that hefty snack bag there, like, a drink or something.”
When I looked in my bag I let out a frustrated grunt. I knew I forgot something when I left that store.
Makai turned his back towards me as he pulled something from his backpack. I peeked around his shoulder to see. He turned to face me, smiling as he held a bottle of iced tea to his full lips. “Aaaahhh! Iced tea.”
His dimples creased as he screwed the bottle cap back on.
I squinted at him. He thinks he’s smart? “Very cute”, I said to him turning to view the Hudson.
“Listen, I’ll share with you but you have to share something with me. Just tell me your name and this is yours.” He motioned toward the bottle of juice.
“You can call me Allie.” I wasn’t giving my entire name to a stranger. My father taught me better than that.
“Ok, Allie. Here.” Makai handed me a straw and the bottle. “Are you new to New York?” he asked.
“No.” I said, opening the bottle of tea. “Okay my turn. So Makai, what does your name mean? Sounds like a Pacific-Islands type of name.” I sipped from the straw and looked at him with one eye.
He looked pleased. “Actually, it is. In Hawaiian it means ‘towards the ocean’ or something like that. My parents thought they were being unique.”
“I think it is cool.”
He looked at me and laughed. The boy sure did like to show off his dimples didn’t he? I wondered if that’s how he was able to get his way with people, women especially.
“Good,” he said “but you can call me Kai, if you want.”
“I will.” I tossed the juice bottle into a can a few feet from us.
There was a silence. A few benches down, a couple giggled while making out. I never realized how romantic the setting was. Light posts that were huddled under tall trees dimly lit the pier. The Brooklyn Bridge was a gem among the city’s skyscrapers as hundreds of cars came and left the island. I had never been in that type of situation with a boy. Usually I was wrestling with them or playing street hockey in my sweats, not having romantic encounters and wanting to play kissy-kissy face with a Hawaiian Ken doll! I needed an escape.
As if the heavens heard my prayers, my phone buzzed with a text from my dad.
‘Good job, you outsmarted the bodyguards. Now leave the pier and head home hija. Ahora!’
I wasn’t surprised that my dad knew where I was, of course the meatheads had to call him eventually to say that they lost his daughter. I looked at the time. It was almost twelve o’clock.
“Shoot! I have to go.” I stuffed the headphones in my bag and secured it over my shoulder.
Makai checked his watch. It was hidden under the long sleeve of his black hoodie and it reminded me of the chronographs my father collected. It must have cost him a pretty penny and a crisp bill.
“Yeah,” he said “me too. I have school in the A-M. You?”
&n
bsp; “Uh, yeah. School, right.” Quickly I responded to my dad’s text.
‘Ok. Voy a casa.’
As I walked to the exit I saw the Pit’s searching around with their big T-Rex arms at their sides. I rolled my eyes. Dad really needed to invest in some normal looking protection.
“Hey!” Makai called from behind me.
I turned around quickly hoping the guards wouldn’t see him talking to me. “Shhh!” I beckoned.
“You forgot your board.” He looked around in confusion and stared at me wide eyed.
“Oh, thanks.” I grabbed the deck of the board and debated whether I should give him a hug or a handshake. I opted for a pat on the head and rushed off into the distance.
As I sped off, I heard Makai mumble, “Bye, Cinderella.”
I smiled as I walked with the hired meatheads to the car. Looks like New York will be quite interesting, I thought as we entered the traffic to begin the ride home.
Chapter Two
I felt the sun warming my cheeks as I awakened from my sleep. I slowly opened my eyes and stared at the brightness. When I was little my mom told me that staring at it would make me go blind. I closed my eyes and remembered standing in the garden one day as a kid looking up in the eastern sky with sunglasses, watching as the sun moved.
“Allie, what did I tell you yesterday?” she had asked, walking towards me.
“But I’m wearing protection, Mom. See?” I turned to her, showing her my flower embossed shades.
She laughed and put her shades on, too. “What is your fascination with the sun honey?”
I remembered putting a finger to my temple as I thought long and hard. “Well, it’s the only star that shines in the day and hides in the night. It’s big and so hot I can feel it all the way down here, on another planet!” I stood for a moment, taking in the feeling of the soothing heat. Then I tugged at her arm. “And you know when I stand here, like this, it feels like the sun is hugging me. Like a BIG mommy hug, just like your hugs Mommy!”