One Man Guy

by Michael Barakiva

  I can’t believe I’m sitting across from the guy who almost beat me up just a few weeks ago, Alek thought to himself. He wondered if Jack remembered pinning him down on the other side of the tunnel.

  Jack snatched the container out of Alek’s hand. Alek felt Ethan about to react, but he jumped in first. He needed to show Ethan he could stand up for himself.

  “They’re soudé fruits,” Alek said, while Jack continued to inspect the Tupperware that contained little purple bulbs soaking in brine. “Haven’t you heard of them?”

  “I haven’t been to Bangladesh or wherever they come from.”

  “They’re an Armenian delicacy, which makes sense because they only grow in Armenia. Something about the climate there, I guess. When they fall from the tree, they have to be harvested immediately; otherwise they become poisonous. But when you get them in time, they’re delicious.”

  Jack climbed up and leaned over on the table to get a better look. The other guys stopped talking and looked over.

  “I don’t believe there’s any such thing as a soudé fruit,” Jack declared.

  “Whatever, man.” Alek threw the phrase away exactly the way he’d heard Ethan say it, letting the end drag off like he couldn’t care less. “I guess that means you don’t want to try one, which is too bad, ’cause it’s the best damn thing you’ll ever taste, but if you don’t want it…”

  Josh piped in from the end of the table. “I did a science report on them when I was in fifth grade. They’re legit.” Josh’s hair was so blond it was almost white, and he spoke with a flat authority that dared to be contradicted. Alek didn’t know if he’d ever sit at this table again, but after Ethan, Josh was his favorite D.O.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want to try it,” Jack backpedaled.

  “Nah, you’re probably too scared.” And to make his point, Alek grabbed the container out of Jack’s hand, opened it, and popped one in his mouth. He chewed enthusiastically, letting the bliss of the experience show on his face. “Damn, that’s good.”

  “Okay, man, hand one over,” Jack said. When Alek pretended not to hear Jack, he barked, “I said give me one of those soudé fruits!”

  “That’s no way to talk to him, douchewad,” Ethan barked back.

  “It’s cool, Ethan,” Alek reassured him. He slid the container across the table, landing it next to Jack’s hand. “You may want to try a little piece first, just to make sure you can handle it.”

  Jack looked at Alek defiantly, stuck his fingers into the Tupperware, snatched two of the dripping bulbs, and tossed them straight into his mouth. The entire table watched as he started chewing, slowly at first, and then more vigorously.

  “Dude, you’re right! They’re awesome—tangy and—”

  Alek put his hands on the table with concern. “Did you just say tangy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh my God!” Alek screamed, putting his hands on his face. “Spit it out, dude. Spit it out! The soudé fruit is supposed to be sweet. It’s only tangy when they’ve been left on the ground too long. Then it’s lethal!”

  “Holy shit!” Jack screamed, spewing half-chewed purple chunks all over himself and the guys sitting close to him.

  “Give him some water!” Alek yelled. Someone tossed Jack a water bottle from down the table, and he began gulping and spitting violently, trying to remove the remnants from his mouth.

  “Call the nurse! Call 911!” Jack screamed between curses and eruptions.

  “Dude, you’re getting that shit everywhere!” one of the guys cried, wiping liquid off his face.

  “Seriously,” Alek agreed calmly. “You’re totally overreacting.”

  “You were the one who said they were lethal!” Jack screamed.

  “I was just kidding, man. God, can’t you take a joke?”

  “What?”

  “You dumb-ass,” Alek continued. “There’s no such thing as a soudé fruit. These are just pickled eggplants. Baby eggplants, soaked in vinegar and brine until they shrink down to this size. They’re harmless.”

  Everyone was silent as they processed what he’d said. This was the deciding moment, Alek realized: would they appreciate the joke he had played, or would they turn on him for humiliating one of their own ten minutes after he had been invited to sit down with them?

  From down the table, Josh’s blond hair bobbed up and down as he heaved with laughter. “You should’ve seen yourself, fool,” he managed to get out between guffaws. “Spitting eggplant everywhere, freakin’ out that you were gonna die. What a bitch. It was hilarious.” Ethan started laughing a second later, and soon everyone joined in.

  “You got served, dude,” Dustin said, slapping Jack heartily on the back.

  “He got you good,” Pedro agreed.

  Soon, even Jack joined in the laughter. The Dropouts’ table was a mess: sodas had been spilled, lunch trays knocked over, sandwiches trampled on. But no one seemed to care.

  “What does soudé mean, anyway?” Ethan asked.

  “‘It’s a lie’ in Armenian,” Alek said, laughing now.

  “Alek,” Jack conceded through his own laughter, “you are one sick dude.”

  14

  “Lemme get this straight. Your parents are gone for the week.”

  “Yup.”

  “You don’t have anyone staying with you or looking after you?”

  “Nope.”

  “And your mom left you some coin?”

  “Yup.”

  “When’s the party, dude?” Ethan exclaimed, leaping with joy.

  Alek and Ethan were walking home after school that day, but for Alek, it felt more like floating than walking. After the soudé incident, Ethan’s friends had warmed up to Alek. He knew he’d never be one of them, but he’d settle for not feeling like a total outsider when sitting at their table. Algebra was an exercise in tantalization, sitting so close to Ethan but not being able to talk to or touch him. Every now and then, Ethan would look over and catch Alek staring at him. Ethan would flash a trademark smile, then stare at Mr. Weedin intently, pretending to be engrossed in the lesson.

  Alek and Ethan reached the entrance to the tunnel underneath the train station.

  “What are you going to do now?” Alek asked.

  “Well, usually I hang out and skate,” Ethan said, dropping his board and hopping on top of it. “But I think you and I are going to have an impromptu New York City adventure today instead.”

  “Today? We can’t go into the city today!”

  “Why not?”

  “For one thing, if my parents found out, they’d kill me!”

  “And where are your parents right now?”

  “Good point,” Alek conceded. “But I still need to call them today. From the landline.”

  “No prob. Go home, call them, and be here in time to get on the 4:33. That’ll still leave us plenty of time to spend some QT in the Big Apple.”

  Alek thought for a moment. Ethan’s plan was solid. “I’ll be there.”

  Ethan leaned in, gave Alek a kiss on his cheek, and walked away, his board slung over his shoulder.

  Alek’s cheek blazed. He stood, watching Ethan walk away. His cocky swagger had been the first thing to catch Alek’s attention, as he strutted across the cafeteria or down a school corridor. The swagger said, I’m my own man, and if you don’t like it, I couldn’t care less. The elastic line of his underwear was peeking above his pants again. But this time, Alek didn’t look away. Ethan suddenly turned around and caught Alek staring at him. He winked, blew him a kiss, then threw his board on the ground, jumped on top of it, and rolled away.

  Alek went home and tried to figure out how this sudden jaunt to New York would affect his schedule. He had promised his parents that he’d mow the lawn that day, and he wanted to keep his word. He was also planning on writing a paper comparing Romeo and Juliet to Love’s Labour’s Lost for his English class, but since it wasn’t due until Friday, he could put that off until tomorrow.

  Alek was changing into his lawn
-mowing clothes when the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, sexy,” a deep voice breathed into the phone.

  “Um, who is this?”

  The husky voice continued, “I’m thinking about blading over there and showing you.”

  “Becky?”

  “C’est moi!” she responded, dropping the act.

  “What’s going on?”

  “We still on for tonight? I’ve got a great movie and some delicious microwavable kettle corn to celebrate your first night on your own. Well, second, I guess, since your folks left yesterday, but you know what I mean.”

  “Um, Becky, do you mind if we reschedule for tomorrow?”

  “Well, you know what a busy social life I have. Hold on. Let me see. Do you want to tell me why you’re canceling on me with such little notice while I flip through my calendar?”

  “Ethan asked me to … Well, he thought it might be fun to go into the city tonight, what with my parents away and everything…” Alek stammered.

  “And did you tell him that we had plans?”

  “Honestly, I totally forgot until you just called.”

  A long pause followed.

  “I know that I have every right to get pissed, but I’m going to take the higher road. That’s how gracious I am. Like a princess. Like Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday. Alek, go and have fun tonight.”

  “Really? You’re not mad?”

  “Forget about it. Have a great time, reflect on what a great best friend you have, and we can watch The Object of My Affection tomorrow.”

  “You’re the best, Becky.”

  Alek hung up the phone and changed into shorts and an old T-shirt.

  * * *

  The second hand of Alek’s robot clock methodically clicked its way around the face while Alek spoke to his mom on the phone, one hour and one mowed lawn later.

  “So everyone’s having a good time?”

  “Yes, Alek, thank you for asking. Today, we went on the Maid of the Mist cruise through Niagara Falls, and tomorrow we’ll be visiting the Armenian community in Burlington, across the Canadian border, so the youth chapter can research their heritage projects. You know, you might think about joining next year.”

  “Sounds great, Mom.”

  Grass protruded from Alek’s hair and stained his fingers. He knew that his parents could afford a motorized lawn mower, but his dad insisted on buying the manual kind because it would help his sons “build character.”

  “So, everything’s good?”

  “Well, almost everything.”

  “What is it, Mom?” Alek walked over to the shower and turned the water on so he could jump in the second he got off the phone.

  “It’s just, traveling with the Hovanians can be so trying. Nothing is ever good enough for them. Why, just today, Mrs. Hovanian insisted on going into the kitchen of the Armenian restaurant where we had lunch to show them how to make real kibbi.”

  “Well, you know these Armenians…” he joked, and was rewarded by the sound of his mother’s laughter.

  “These Armenians indeed,” she agreed.

  “Well, if there’s nothing else…” Alek said.

  “Are you in a rush, darling?”

  Alek eyed the clock nervously. It was almost four o’clock, so he only had a few minutes to get off the phone if he wanted to get to the station on time.

  “Of course not, Mom,” Alek covered. Somehow, Alek’s mom could always tell when something else was going on. It’s the reason he asked his dad, and not her, to sign the math test when he needed to forge the excused-absence note for the first New York trip, which he ended up having to do again when he visited Becky at Dairy Queen after his fight with Ethan. Sometimes, he wondered if all Armenian mothers possessed telepathic abilities, or just his own.

  “So how was school?”

  “It was fine, Mom.”

  “You know, Ms. Schmidt told us that you’re doing very well. If you continue like this, you’ll have no problem placing on Honor Track come fall.”

  “Yup. Do you like your hotel?”

  “Well, I asked for a different room, because the first one smelled of chemicals. I think they must’ve just shampooed the carpeting, and as grateful as I am for their cleanliness, you know how sensitive my olfactory is. The second room is better, but the view isn’t as good…” His mind wandered as his mom rattled off about the intricate pros and cons of hotel rooms.

  Staring at the shorts he had laid on his bed, Alek wished that he had something cooler to wear for this New York adventure. But he had looked at every pair of pants and shorts he owned, and they all felt equally dorky to him.

  “… I just hope the food at the restaurant is okay.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Have you done your summer clothes shopping yet?”

  “I was thinking about asking the Boyces to drive me and Becky to the mall this week.”

  “That’s a great idea. Just make sure that what you buy fits you well.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “And use the gift card. You know how much we usually spend, right?”

  Alek had anticipated this. “I think you left enough cash for the clothes—why don’t I just use that? And I’ll save the card for if there’s an emergency. Do you mind?” he asked.

  “Either way, honey. I have to get ready for dinner. Your father and Nik and Nanar send their love.”

  “Holla back for me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I mean, say hi to them from me, too.” Alek hung up the phone, threw his clothes into the hamper, and jumped in the shower.

  * * *

  “Hurry hurry hurry!” Ethan screamed from the platform. By the time Alek reached the train station, he was panting from having run the whole way. Alek bolted up the stairs a second before the train stopped and the doors opened. He put his hands in his pockets, feeling the objects that he had grabbed as he ripped out of his house: keys, the envelope full of cash, and the Metropolitan Museum sticker for good luck.

  “You were freakin’ me out, dude. What took so long?”

  “Mom … phone … longer…” Alek managed to sputter between breaths.

  “We gotta get moving, man. You remember the drill.”

  “Yessir!”

  Alek snuck into the bathroom, leaving the door open, as Ethan opened his book bag and took out a black Sharpie and piece of white construction paper.

  * * *

  Alek felt the train dip into a tunnel. From the first trip, he remembered they’d pull into Penn Station in a few minutes.

  “So what’re we doing tonight?”

  “We’re gonna kick it downtown style today.”

  Alek didn’t really know what Ethan meant, but he had learned to trust that things would be explained to him on a need-to-know basis.

  “I have a request,” Alek stated.

  “You do, do you?” Ethan cocked one eyebrow inquisitively.

  “I want you to take me shopping.”

  “I think it’s a little early for us to be picking out curtains. We’re not lesbians, after all.”

  “That’s not what I mean, Eth. I want clothes like yours. Cool clothes.”

  “Just because we’re together doesn’t mean you have to dress like me, Alek. I like the way you dress. It’s dorky-chic.”

  “I think it’s just dorky-dorky. I’m not saying I want to dress like you, but…” Alek trailed off. His parents had always criticized these Americans who bought clothes every month to reflect the latest fashion, and Alek certainly didn’t want to be one of those people. But he was tired of dressing in a way that didn’t feel like himself. Even if it meant having to go to school in his underwear, Alek vowed to never wear khakis again.

  “Well, you’re in luck, dude,” Ethan said. “I do all of my shopping downtown, so it’ll be easy enough to hit a store or two. We’ll see what you like. You know, though, it’s going to take some coin.”

  “I’m on it.” Alek produced the cash fr
om his pocket and showed it to Ethan.

  “Whoa, dude. You can’t go around flashing green like that once we’re in the city.”

  Sheepishly, Alek stuffed the envelope back into his pocket.

  “So, MetroCard two-for-one special?”

  “Not today. The weather’s so great, and we’re not in a rush. We’re going to walk our way through Manhattan. It’s the best way to get to know this city.”

  “Lead, and I will follow.”

  “I know you will.” Ethan leaned in and kissed Alek gently on the lips. The train came to a halt. “Let’s go.”

  15

  “So what are we going to do first?”

  “We’re gonna get you a new look. What’re you thinking?”

  “I just don’t want to wear these stupid khaki shorts anymore.”

  “You have to figure out what you want to look like. People don’t dress cool by accident. It’s gotta be planned, even if it looks like it’s not. I think you need to look at a few options. Luckily, I know just the place.”

  The summer breeze offset the heat, and the humidity was blessedly low. Alek and Ethan walked through a group of street acrobats leaping over one another in synchronized daredevilry to hip-hop music in front of a huge rotating, glowing cube sculpture that looked like an artifact from the future.

  “Downtown feels totally different from Museum Mile and Central Park,” Alek observed.

  “That’s what rocks about New York. It’s like a thousand different cities stuck together on one little island.”

  “Everything uptown was so clean and organized. But down here, it’s more…”

  “Caj?” Ethan offered.

  “Caj?”

  “You know. Casual. And artsy. Downtown is artsy,” Ethan said. “That’s a good way to think about your new look. Before, you were clean and organized, like uptown. But now, you’re going to discover the downtown, artsy Alek.”

  “The artsy Alek,” Alek repeated to himself.

  Alek and Ethan walked into a small park surrounded by streets and stores. Alek could make out UNION SQUARE NORTH on a nearby street sign.

  “You gotta check this out!” Ethan grabbed Alek’s hand and practically ran to the other side of the square, where a bunch of kids were skateboarding up and down rails, ramps, and stairs.