by Paul Griffin
‘Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!’ Trini said. She was trembling, crying, laughing. She took a picture of José with her phone, ran into the shop.
‘Where you going?’ Yolie said.
‘Tengo que e-mail esta a mis chicas! They gonna die.’
Yolie winked. ‘Gonna be a lot a slippery panties in the Heights tonight, eh, Raymundo chico?’ She covered her mouth, laughed, embarrassed, slapped Ray’s shoulder. ‘Tt, I can’t believe old Yolie said that!’
José skidded up to the shop. ‘C-mon, Ray-Ray!’
‘Nah nah, I’m a’right.’
Yolie put the helmet over Ray’s head. ‘It’s fun, chico. Vayate.’
José grabbed Ray by the shirt, jerked him toward the bike. Ray got on, the helmet too small for his monster dome.
José grinned, winked to Yolie. ‘Don’t wait up for us.’ He rolled back all the way on the throttle, kicked the clutch, popped the brake.
The force of the acceleration slammed Ray back to the sissy bar. ‘Shit.’
‘Be careful, Josito,’ Yolie screamed. ‘Slow down. Slow down!’
They tore it up down by Macombs Dam Bridge on Powell Boulevard, a long run without lights that dead-ended at the Polo Ground Houses. All the bikers came here.
‘Serious, you steal it?’ Ray yelled to be heard over the wind.
José yelled back, ‘Tt no, man, Frankie the Fence, three hundrit fitty bucks, plus he threw in the jacket.’
‘Bike’s gotta be hotter than a hungry whore.’
‘What!’
‘I said, bike’s hot!’
‘It sure is. Hang on, son!’
‘How you know how to ride so good?’
‘Psh, ridin my trick bike is harder. Ray, I been dreamin of this ride since the womb. Man, the wind feels good, huh? Born to ride, baby! Hoooooyeah!’
A cop cruiser picked them up out on the avenue.
‘We are so done,’ Ray said.
‘No we ain’t.’
‘You got no helmet, no licence, hot plates—’
José bobbed and weaved with the cabs, northwest.
‘Where you goin?’
‘Jersey, man! They ain’t chase us over the bridge!’
‘Stop, man! I gotta get off ! You’re goin too fast now!’
‘You wanna go to juvie? Then hang on!’ José gunned it, ditched one cruiser then another in the traffic. Three minutes later they were on the Trans-Manhattan Expressway, weaving through the fast-moving traffic, gunning it on the shoulder, onto the ramp that swung around to the upper deck of the GW Bridge, one lane blocked with cones and cleared for roadwork. ‘This is gonna be beautiful. You better hold tight now, Ray!’
‘Goddammit, why?’
‘We gonna fly now!’ José pulled the bike into a slow-rise wheelie. ‘Like Grand Theft live, baby! Hoo, Ray! Hooooooo!’
‘Slow down, man! Put the wheel down, J-man, please! You gonna kill us!’
‘Flyin off a bridge on a motorcycle. Pick a better death. Hahahaaaa! Scarface’s got you, kid! No harm can come to us! I feel it! We’re God’s chosen this one minute! Yayuh! They’ll never catch us, Ray-Ray! Never! We the Wonder Thieves!’
Ray clung to the J-man, took it all in, the sunset on the bridge, the sky stacked with every shade of red, the Hudson cliffs eternal, the wind cold. Two kids flying on one wheel.
21
Come May’s end, Yolie threw Trini an end of the school year party.
The boys grabbed hot showers at the rec center. Ray fussed with his zits in front of the dented metal mirror.
‘Stop pickin at ’em, Ray-Ray. You’re makin it worse. Chill, son. You act nervous you gonna scare her off.’
‘I ain’t nervous, a’right?’
Trini’s cousin Vanny was going to be at the party, fresh off the plane from San Juan.
Ray splashed himself with cheap cologne, passed the bottle to José.
‘Man, we smell good, huh?’ José said. ‘Lemme have a little more of that stuff.’ The J-man splashed his armpits.
Ray copied the J-man.
Yolie’s yard was packed with kids from Trini’s school. They were okay, better than Ray expected. Some were even nice. The prep school chicks flirted with José as he worked the meat grill, played with his long shiny cornrows, which Yolie and Trini had beaded that morning with Day-Glo red. He was polite but made it known he was Trini’s man. Even Yolie mussed his braids at one point. She was a little tipsy on Cuervo. José winked at Trini. She blew him a kiss. He caught it, pasted it onto his lips.
Seeing José like this, a corny family man, Ray figured the J-man and Trini would get married someday. If José didn’t get his ass shot off robbing a jewelry store.
Ray was on bun patrol, working the midget grill. Small as it was, it threw heat this hot night. Ray sweat. He looked over to José, shirt off, tied around his waist. Ray stuffed a hotdog bun into his mouth. He was drunk on beer to work up his courage to face Vanessa, due in any minute.
Trini passed a tray of hors d’oeuvres. The late-day light in the yard, Trini glowed. Ray hurt.
Yolie screamed. Trini spun and screamed. They attacked the girl who had just come into the yard, the three ladies kissing. Trini grabbed the girl’s hand, lugged her over to Ray. Trini rubbed Ray’s shaved head. ‘Vanita, this is the famous Ray Mond. Raymond, this is my cousin Vanessa.’
Vanessa was pudgy, like Ray. She wasn’t Trini, but she was all right.
Ray nodded to Vanessa. ‘Yup,’ he said. ‘Hi, I mean. I’m R—’ He stopped saying his name because he remembered Trini had just said his name twice.
Trini pinched Ray’s cheek. ‘Told ya he was funny. Isn’t he just adorable, girl?’
Vanessa looked down at her feet, frowned. ‘I don’t know. I better unpack.’ She went into the braid shop.
Ray nodded. ‘Yup, she don’t like me a half a bit.’
‘Nah nah, I’m tellin you, boy. Look, she’s shy. Give it time, you’ll see.’
‘Yolie, we need more cow.’ José came out from the kitchen holding up the last bag of burgers, slapped them onto the grill.
Yolie went for her pocketbook.
‘I’ll go, Yolie,’ Ray said.
‘It’s okay, amor,’ Yolie said. ‘You stay and have fun.’
‘I need the air anyhow.’
Yolie gave Ray money. ‘Go to the diner, tell them I sent you. They give you a fifty-pack of burgers.’
Ray took the money. ‘Which diner?’
Trini took Ray’s hand. ‘I’ll show you. C’mon.’
On the way to the diner they walked one of Trini’s guy friends to the subway. The cat kept talking about this girl he was in love with, heartbroken that the chick didn’t know he existed. ‘It’s like I’m invisible,’ he said. Trini comforted the guy, kissed him at the subway steps, told him she would call him tomorrow.
Ray felt bad for the kid, or maybe he just felt bad for himself. ‘He seems real busted up.’
‘He’s a sweetie, but I tell you, the drama, a different crush every week.’ Trini slugged Ray’s shoulder, jumped up and down. ‘So, Ray, how you feelin about Vanny?’
He was feeling like he had stomach cancer. ‘Seems real sweet.’
‘I just think you two are the perfect match, you know?’
‘How’s that?’
‘You’re both so nice.’
Fat, you mean. ‘Thanks.’
‘You wanna double tomorrow, you, me, Vanny and the J-man, hit the zoo?’ The sunset bouncing off the shop windows painted Trini gold, her teeth bright against her tanned face, her eyes dark fire.
‘I love you,’ Ray said.
‘What?’ Trini said.
Ray cleared his throat, hoped he didn’t look as sick as he felt. ‘I’d love to. The zoo. Sounds great.’
He wiped the sweat off his face with his shirt, gut hanging.
‘Ray? Baby, what’s wrong?’
She called me baby. He smiled, winked, more like blinked, Ray a lousy winker. ‘Let’s get the meat.’
‘D
ude, Xbox so thrashes PlayStation.’
‘Dude? That’s like saying Pac-Man so thrashes Grand Theft Auto?’
‘Dude, why do you say everything like it’s a question?’
‘I so do not?’
The kids from Trini’s school sat in a circle, smoking cigarettes. Ray, José, and Trini watched from the picnic table. Yolie had gone to bed. Vanessa never came back out to the party. She kept looking out the back window of the attic apartment to see if Ray was still there. He waved to her once, but she backed away from the window fast without waving back.
Trini and José held hands as they shared a beer. Ray had his own beer. He was bombed.
‘No, dude, seriously, am I right or am I right?’
‘Dude, I am so not getting involved in this one?’
Trini looked at José. ‘Whattaya think?’
José sipped his beer. ‘I think one more dude, we got us a rodeo.’
‘Y’all wanna call party over and bounce? Raymond?’
‘Yeah. T, you think it’s okay we take the burnt food for the dogs?’
‘We’ll take all of it, burnt and non-burnt,’ she said.
‘They’ll like that.’
‘They’ll like any dag thing,’ José said. ‘My beautiful dogs.’ José winked at Ray.
Trini rolled her eyes, pinched the J-man’s arm. ‘Lemme go see if Vanny wants to come.’
‘Nah, T, don’t push her,’ Ray said.
‘Raymond, don’t be like that. She’s sick from too much Dramamine, she told me.’
‘Dramamine. Right.’
‘To make her be chill on the plane.’
‘Nah, nah, leave her,’ Ray said. ‘Let her rest.’
‘Quit bein a baby about it,’ José said. ‘Just let Trini go on up—’
‘No man, and shut up, callin me a baby.’
‘A’right, a’right now,’ Trini said, ‘let’s not pressure the man. Tomorrow y’all come on up here for lunch with the motorcycle, we’ll get her into the swing.’
‘The goddam motorcycle,’ Ray muttered. ‘Right.’
‘Ray,’ Trini said. ‘What is the matter, chico mio? Tt, talk to us.’
‘You okay, Ray-Ray?’
He looked at them, saw their confusion, their concern for him, looked away, felt his eyes brim.
Three kids from Trini’s school started shoving a fourth kid.
‘You two big strong boys help me clear these dudes out of my aunt’s yard,’ Trini said.
They did.
22
They went to Ten Mile River. Ray hung out back with the dogs and read by flashlight while Trini and José hung out in front of the TV. Ray could see them through the window but they couldn’t see him because the light was on inside the house. Ray couldn’t help staring. He watched José kiss Trini’s neck. José slinked his hand up the inside of Trini’s leg into her skirt, she pushed it away. ‘No, baby,’ she said. ‘No. Be a good boy.’ They went back to kissing. José clicked off the light, only TV flicker now, not enough to spy by.
Ray got back to his book as he fed the dogs leftovers. Aristotle told him that a man who couldn’t live in society was either a beast or god. ‘Does he have to be one or the other, Fatty?’
Fatty stared at Ray out the sides of his eyes.
‘Dammit, José, I said no.’ Trini’s voice louder now. ‘Why can’t you be nice?’
‘I’m tryin a be nice,’ José said. ‘Tryin a make you feel nice.’
‘I feel fine, thank you. You behave, Mr. Man.’
It was quiet for a while, then José said, ‘I’m sorry, baby. C’mere.’
Ray hugged the Fatty dog. Fatty yawned to show his toothless mouth.
‘José! I’m serious! Y’all quit it!’
‘I’ll kill him,’ Ray whispered to Fatty.
‘C’mon, Trini,’ José said. ‘I’m a man, see. A man got needs.’
Ray stood. His stomach was hot with sloshing beer.
‘José!’ Trini said.
Ray thought, You better stop, José. Then he thought, You better stop José.
‘Wait,’ Trini yelled.
Ray looked up. The stars over Ten Mile River spun.
‘Stop, please!’
There was the sound of a hand slapping a face. The dogs gathered at Ray’s feet, cocked their ears.
Ray stumbled around to the front of the station-house. By the time he got there, Trini and José were on their feet. José had his hand to his cheek. Trini said, ‘You had to ruin it, huh? We were having a nice night, and you had to get all…Yo, I am out.’
‘Good, go.’ José threw his beer bottle at the wall. It smashed and sprayed dregs and glass. ‘Goddam. I didn’t mean that.’ He put his hands out to Trini to make peace. ‘Trini, man. I’m sorry.’
Trini pulled away.
‘Trin—’ José said.
Ray grabbed José’s arm.
‘Ray, man, leggo my damn arm now. This ain’t none of your concern, son.’
‘Raymond—’ Trini said.
‘What you done to her?’ Ray said.
‘I ain’t done nothin, okay? Jesus. Now lemme go.’
‘Okay, look,’ Trini said. ‘Let’s all just calm down, okay?’
‘Ray, easy, boss,’ José said. ‘I was, I lost it for a second. Chill.’
‘You don’t mess with a chick like that,’ Ray said. ‘Even I know that. No is no.’
‘I know. I—’
‘You don’t know shit.’
‘I’m-a warn you a last time, son, get out my face, pissin me right off. You keep steppin to me, you’ll pay the devil with bright red blood.’
‘Y’all quit it!’ Trini said.
‘Ha,’ Ray said. ‘I’m-a pay the devil?’
José shoved Ray off.
‘Stop!’ Trini said.
Ray slipped on the neck of the broken beer bottle, went down hard.
‘Raymond? You okay, sweetie pie?’ Trini helped Ray up.
José paced and tugged his braids. ‘Dag, see what you made me do? Aw, hell, Ray. Hell.’ He went to help Ray up.
Ray pushed past Trini, drove his rock of a fist into José’s face. José got his hand up, deflected some of the punch but not enough. His head snapped back.
A click.
José hit the floor like a sack of wet trash dropped from a second-floor window.
No sooner had Ray tagged José than he wished he had no hands to hit with.
Ray and Trini stood over José. The J-man’s head was twisted so that he was looking over his shoulder, except he wasn’t looking at anything because his eyes were closed.
Trini backed away from Ray, bent to José. ‘José? José! No. No.’
The dogs had come in. They sniffed at José. When they saw he wasn’t moving their hackles went up. They backed out of the stationhouse, eyes on Ray, bolted when they hit the woods. Only the Fatty dog was left. He stared at José out of the side of his eyes. Then he turned to face Ray head-on. The dog shivered and slinked out, bumping into everything in its blindness.
Ray called after the dog, ‘Fatty, c’mere.’
The dog bolted at the sound of Ray’s voice and disappeared into the darkness.
Ray and Trini dragged José to the junky old couch. He was breathing. They sat him up so he wouldn’t swallow the blood in his mouth. Ray kept saying sorry. Sometimes José would shake his head, sometimes nod.
Trini turned away, her face in her hands. ‘Y’all boys. Y’all poor boys. Oh my God. The air in here,’ she cried softly, more to herself than to them. ‘The godawful stale air. The dust and damp and mold rot in the walls. Look at this place,’ she whispered. ‘Dog hair everywhere. I’m so sorry. I must have been out of my mind. This is my fault.’
‘Hell you talkin about, T?’ José was coming around. ‘You didn’t do anything.’
‘That’s right. I didn’t. Look at you boys. Y’all aren’t thirty-two yet, your ages added, and you’re stone drunk. Y’all smoke and steal and fight.’ Trini took out her phone, battery dead. ‘Sh
it.’
‘Who you callin?’ Ray said.
‘I need a cab,’ she said.
‘We’ll walk you home,’ José said.
‘No! No you will not. I can’t be around you boys right now. Y’all make me so sad and mad and I don’t know, I just don’t know.’ Trini closed her eyes, grimaced. ‘I hate myself.’ She got up, ran out of the station-house.
‘Lemme get her to a cab, be back,’ Ray said to José.
‘Don’t let her walk them woods alone.’ Unable to stand José collapsed into the couch.
Ray caught up with Trini on a section of Drive filled with old folks a-stroll in the warm May night. ‘Get away from me,’ she said to Ray.
‘T, yo, I’m sorry,’ Ray said.
‘Get away. Every step you take toward me, I scream.’ And she did. ‘Get! A! Way! From! Me!’
Folks stopped, stared.
‘Leave me alone, Raymond. Leave me be.’ She hurried down the Drive.
Ray stopped chasing her, roared beer puke into the bushes.
Ray stepped it back to the stationhouse, relieved to find José on his feet, making coffee. ‘She’s okay?’ José said.
‘I don’t know about that.’
‘You got puke on your shirt.’ José sipped hot coffee. ‘Phew.’
‘I don’t know what to say, J-man.’
‘Don’t say sorry. I hate that.’
‘I know.’
‘You did the right thing. I was outta line. I tell you though, son, that was some punch. Think m’ blockin hand’s a little messed up.’
‘Lemme take you to Doc.’
‘Nah, don’t hurt much. Prob’ly bad sprained. We’ll see how she plays tomorrow.’ José chugged the coffee, rubbed his throat. ‘M’ damn neck smarts more than my face. Whiplash. My eye’s a-swellin, ain’t she? I feel it puffin to blind me.’
‘I’ll fetch some ice.’
‘Nah, I like it like this.’ He checked himself out in his shaving mirror. ‘Looks cool.’
Ray scanned the trashed stationhouse, broomed the bottle glass, worried the dogs would cut their feet. Then a worse fear came to him: The dogs weren’t coming back. He heard one of them barking, far away.
‘Damn, I love that girl, though,’ José said. ‘I hope I didn’t mess up permanent.’