by Jeff Rivera
Dio held on to his graduation certificate with pride as he searched the crowds after the ceremony for someone familiar.
“Dio! Dio! Dio!”
Dio turned to see his little brother running toward him. He scooped him up and hugged him.
“What’s up, little brother?”
Daniel went on and on and on about everything that had happened that year, but Dio was distracted by seeing his mother smiling nervously. She walked up to him cautiously. They just looked at each other, not knowing exactly what to say.
Dio felt a wave of embarrassment come over him. He felt guilty about everything that had happened before, but was excited to see her.
“Mom, I . . .”
“Sssh,” she said, holding her finger up to his lips. She nodded. “I know. Me, too.”
Dio smiled.
“I saw you up there, looking all good in your uniform. I’m proud . . .” Tears of happiness filled her eyes. “Never been so proud of you.”
Dio hugged her tightly. That had to be the first time he had ever heard his mom say those words to him.
“Thank you.”
She took his face in her palms and shook her head with disbelief. “You did it.”
“I know.” He smiled.
“Que descanse en paz, what would your father think?”
Dio smiled with pride. Jackson made his way through the crowd. Seeing Dio, he started for him, but stopped at the sight of his mother.
“Oh. Well, I . . .” Jackson started.
“No, it’s okay. This is my mom and little brother, Daniel,” Dio said.
“Nice to make your acquaintance, ma’am, Daniel,” Jackson said. “That’s a fine young man you got there.”
“I know,” she answered. “I’ll leave you two alone for a second.”
And she stepped away, taking Daniel with her.
Jackson seemed uneasy, nervous in fact. He cleared his throat about a billion times before speaking. “Nice to see she could make it.”
“Yeah,” Dio smiled.
“And your girl?”
“Um . . . I don’t know. She’s got to be around here somewhere.”
“Well . . . I’m sure she is. Wanted to give you this.” He took out a business card.
Dio’s eyes lit up at the sight of it. It said, JO’S DESIGN SHOP.
“Friend of the family. Told her about you and . . . well, you’ll probably have to start out sweeping the floors, but—”
Dio couldn’t contain himself; he hugged Senior Jackson tightly, then pulled back, embarrassed. Jackson blushed, though he tried to hide his smile. “Well . . . just don’t go and blow it. I put my name on the line for you.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Dio smiled.
“Well . . . guess I better get moving on. You keep your nose clean, you hear?”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“You ever need anything, you just pick up the phone, you know, and give me a call.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
Jackson started backing up. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t.
“Well . . . remember everything I taught ya.”
Dio smiled. “I’ll miss you, too, sir.”
Jackson cleared his throat and tried to hide his smile, then mumbled something to the effect of, “I’m proud of ya.”
Dio spent the next hour or so saying good-bye to his fellow graduating trainees and looking around for Jennifer. Finally, when there were only ten people left, his mom convinced him that they ought to get going. It was getting chilly anyway.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Dio pounded on the door as hard as he could. He’d spent the last couple of days trying to reach Jennifer at her mom’s place, but the number was disconnected.
“Come on, mijo! She’s not there,” his mother called from the running car.
Dio checked inside the darkened windows, cupping his hands over his face so he could peer inside.
“No, mamá. She wouldn’t just leave without telling me. Must be some mistake.”
“Come on, mijo. You’ve been checking that house for fifteen minutes. If anyone lived there, they’d have come out by now.”
Dio knew she was right. It just seemed strange. He wondered if that was what Jennifer had been starting to say in her Christmas letter when Grossaint had snatched it away. Maybe she had written her new phone number, but now he would never know.
“Mijo! Now!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dio answered.
He put his hands in his pockets; the wind gave him a chill as he walked down the steps to the running car.
“I don’t understand,” Dio said.
“They were here just a month ago,” his mom said. “Her mom started acting funny once she found out that you were going to be getting out soon. She stopped returning my calls and everything. I don’t know, Dio. I don’t know.”
Senior Jackson was right. They did start him sweeping the floors at Jo’s Design Shop, but it didn’t take long before they recognized his talent. He didn’t mind cleaning so much, anyway. Anything was better than being back in prison boot camp. And besides, he was making honest to goodness, real money. It wasn’t the best money in the world, just seven dollars an hour, not exactly like the drug money he was making before, but then he didn’t walk around with this dark cloud inside him, either. He could walk away with a sense of pride that he was a responsible citizen.
Dio hadn’t been back to his old neighborhood since he got out of camp. His mom had moved to a nicer place now that, what with her new job and keeping sober, she could afford it. Living with his mom wasn’t exactly peaches and cream; they did still have their fair share of arguments, but it wasn’t like before, not as intense, and Dio was just grateful to have a place to live. Besides, in just a few more months he’d not only have enough to move out into his own place, but he’d also have enough to afford a really nice engagement ring for Jennifer. He knew he’d track her down eventually; it was just a matter of time.
He missed her and was very disappointed he hadn’t seen her in so long. He wanted to see his daughter. He wanted them to begin the life he had dreamed of ever since he went into camp. She probably didn’t know how to get ahold of him either; otherwise he knew she would have.
He just kept praying. Eventually he knew he was going to have to go back to his old neighborhood. Somebody there had to know where she was.
His boss was a female—a female named Jo, imagine that. And she was a tomboy, that’s for sure. She kind of reminded him of Louise, actually. He’d taken a liking to her, and she’d taught him a lot since day one. She often said she had never seen a harder worker. That made Dio proud.
“And that’s where we do the finishing,” his boss announced.
Dio, under the hood of a car, rolled his eyes and snickered. He figured she was always so loud and was probably taking another client on a tour of the shop again.
“You do rims, too?” a man asked.
Dio stopped. That voice. It sounded familiar. But he went back to work again.
“We do everything,” Jo responded.
“Looks like some nigga’s car,” another man said.
“Hey! We don’t allow that talk in here.”
Dio froze. He knew he’d heard that voice before; both of them, in fact. He crawled out from under the car just as Jo stepped up to him with her guests.
“Dio, do me a favor, will you?”
“Sure,” Dio responded, wiping his hands, but her voice faded out as he squinted and saw her guests.
It was Acne and Dirty Blond. They had grown more hair, even looked a little cleaner, but it was definitely them. Dio could smell the alcohol reeking from them, and he had to fight to keep himself from gagging.
“It’s getting late. Let me get you home,” she said to them. “Dio, here’s their address. We’re fixing their car outside,” she added, handing him a piece of paper.
Strangely, they didn’t recognize him, though they did look at him funny. He did look different; a little older, a little wis
er, his hair more cropped. Dio had to keep himself from exploding right then and there. It was their fault that everything had changed between him and Jennifer. It was their fault that she got shot. It was their fault that he had ended up in boot camp.
“Take my Beemer,” she said, tossing Dio the keys and winking.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She’d never let him do that before, and for a moment, he was distracted from Acne and Dirty Blond.
“You know where Lake Meade and Skyline is?” they asked.
“Don’t worry. You’re in safe hands. Dio’s our best guy. You can see some of his work over there.”
She pointed to a Jeep, beautifully painted with a picture of a sunset with subtle layers of colors that looked incredible.
“He did that. Our hottest ticket. Might end up owning this shop in a few years. You never know. Won’t you, buddy?”
“I hope.” Dio smiled.
Dio unlocked the doors for them and they hopped in.
“See that they’re taken care of,” Jo said.
“Oh, I will,” Dio answered.
Dio adjusted his mirror so he could see the two of them in the backseat. They were ranting and raving like two drunken lunatics, drinking some beer that they had obviously snuck in.
“Fucking wop, so cheap, couldn’t afford food stamps.” They giggled as if that were funny.
Acne noticed Dio was watching him and barked at him like he was some little dog. “What do you want? Hurry up, fucking spic.”
Dio’s lips got tighter. He squinted. He made a sudden turn off the freeway. The two of them were so wrapped up in their own little world that they didn’t realize that he was driving into a remote bad neighborhood until it was too late. It had to be the most ghetto part of North Las Vegas, an entirely black neighborhood.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dirty Blond demanded.
“Fucking beaners never get anything right,” Acne added under his breath.
“Only thing they’re good at is picking strawberries—”
“And grapes.”
They both laughed.
Squeak! Dio hit the brakes hard, and they practically bumped their heads.
“What the fuck?” they asked.
“We here,” Dio said.
“Here?”
“You dumb-ass, we said Lake Meade and Skyline.”
“Me no understand English,” Dio said in the thickest Mexican accent he could conjure up. “Maybe you get out. Check see if this right.”
“I told you already, dumb-fuck, this is not the right place.”
“Me no understand,” Dio said.
“I said—” Acne started.
“No, no. Dumb fuck don’t understand fucking English. Let’s just get out.”
And with that, they jumped out of the car, ranting and raving and slamming the door shut.
“Look, this is not Skyline, you Mexican jumping bean,” Acne screamed at Dio. “This is some fucking nigger ’hood.”
Dio rolled up his window, winked, and took off.
“Hey! Hey!” they yelled after him.
“Who you calling a nigga?” said a deep voice that would have put Barry White to shame.
They turned around and their eyes about popped out of their heads. Five or six big black guys were approaching them and more were on their way.
“You don’t want to fuck with me, white boy,” he added.
The last thing Dio saw was Acne and Dirty Blond, getting their asses kicked, from his rearview mirror.
“Daaaaaaamn! Look at you,” Spooky said, falling out of his chair.
Dio was decked out in Dockers, a nice sweater, and shoes. He was even sporting glasses. He smiled from ear to ear as he watched Spooky recover from the shock.
He looked around at all the beer bottles and old pizza boxes littering Spooky’s living room. Two or three of his bitches were sprawled out on the couch and floor, still knocked out from a night of partying.
He got up and walked around Dio like he was checking out a brand-new car.
“Man, is that you, ése? Is that Playboy?” he joked.
“Call me Dio, bro.”
“Dio?” Spooky laughed, until he realized Dio wasn’t joking. “A’ight, Dio. When’d you get out, dawg?”
“Few weeks ago. Got a job.”
“No shit.”
“Yep, at an auto shop on Decatur. Only seven dollars an hour, but never know, might end up being assistant manager soon.”
“Assistant manager. Damn.”
“Hey, where’s Little Spider?”
Spooky cleared his throat. “Got shot last month.”
“Shot?”
“Didn’t make it.”
It seemed impossible; he’d known Spider since he was in junior high. They’d all kick it, him, Spooky, Bullet, and . . .
“What about Bullet?”
“Got locked up four months ago.”
“Trix?”
“He OD’d just after you got busted.”
It was like his whole former world had come crashing down, too. He couldn’t help but think that he could have been dead or locked up like them had he been around. Maybe Louise was right; everything does happen for a reason. Maybe being in boot camp wasn’t so bad after all.
“Why you all dressed up today, anyway? You going to church or something?”
“No,” Dio said, collecting his thoughts. He pulled a little box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a beautiful diamond engagement ring.
“Damn!” Spooky said. “Where’d you swipe that from?”
“Didn’t. Bought it at Mario’s. On a payment plan.”
Spooky looked at him like he was from another planet. “Payment plan?”
“Gonna check around Jennifer’s old stomping grounds. Someone’s bound to know where she is.”
Spooky turned pale, making Dio nervous.
“What?”
“No one told you?”
“What?”
“Jennifer . . . she . . . about a couple of months ago . . . she got engaged.”
It was as if someone had taken a hammer to his head. He had to keep his knees from buckling and dropping to the floor.
“Where? When? Who’d she get engaged to?” Dio asked.
“Some pinche negro. Supposed to get married this weekend. I thought you knew.”
Dio swallowed. He could feel the tears starting to well up, but fought them hard.
“No. No, I didn’t.”
Spooky tried to change the subject and hit Dio on the side of the arm. “Hey, we’re going to go out for some cigarettes. Why don’t you roll with us?”
But Dio was still out of it. Jennifer, getting married to someone else? How could she do this? Why didn’t she tell him? Why wasn’t she honest with him?
Chapter Ten
DON’T BE STUPID, FOO’. DON’T BE A PENDEJO,” SPOOKY said, grabbing hold of Dio in his car.
“Just keep the car runnin’, ése,” he answered, jumping out of the car.
It was a Saturday, the day of Jennifer’s wedding. It was pouring down rain, as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled.
He tossed his cigarette nervously aside and looked up at the grand cathedral. This whole moment felt surreal to him. It couldn’t be happening. How could she do something like this to him?
He opened the heavy doors and felt the rush of wind in his face. The church was crowded, packed, in fact, and the ceremony had already begun. He tried to slip in unnoticed. He felt his jacket pocket to make sure it was still there. It was.
Wham! Dio bumped hard into a glass table with an ice sculpture on it. Bullets bounced on the tile floor and Dio wrestled to grab them before anyone noticed. His thigh was throbbing with pain, but nothing compared with the pain he was feeling in his heart. He’d never felt so hurt in his life. The ice sculpture began to melt.
He weaved his way through the crowd and found a place not far from the front. His mind was racing, so many thoughts, so many feelings. The stained-glass pictures o
f Jesus and the Virgin Mary seemed creepy to him. It was as if they were warning him not to do it. But he put those thoughts out of his mind.
He knew the risks. He knew he could be throwing everything away that he’d worked all year for. He knew his mother would be disappointed, that his little brother would be crushed. He knew all of that, but nothing was more important than seeing Jennifer one more time and making her understand what she’d done to him.
Dio’s nose flared at the sight of her fiancé. Spooky was right—she was marrying a black man.
How could she even think about doing that? He had to be rich. That had to be it. The one thing he could probably never give her, money.
It was a beautiful ceremony; even he had to admit it. It was perfect. It was the hardest thing in the world for him to see it all go on, without him. It was like going out for the lead in a play, a play you wanted to be in more than anything, and then watching it, even though you didn’t get cast.
Then he saw her, Jennifer, looking more beautiful than ever as her father escorted her down the aisle. Her dress was white and flowing, with a long train. Everyone let out a little gasp at how beautiful she looked, as she joined her fiancé and the wedding ceremony began.
“We gather here today . . .” the priest began.
Dio’s heart pounded. His throat was dry. He checked his jacket pocket again. It felt like a brick against his chest.
“I, Antonio Angel Estrella—”
Angel? She was marrying Angel?
“. . .hereby take you as my wife. To have and to hold . . .”
There was a lump in the back of Dio’s throat. He wanted to burst out, “No!” It hurt so badly.
“I, Jennifer Lalita Sánchez . . .”
He couldn’t believe his ears, she was promising him her life.
Boom! Thunder rumbled and made Dio jump, as the lights went out. Everyone gasped but Jennifer and her fiancé, who were too in love to notice anything. They were illuminated by the candlelight.
“. . .to have and to hold, through sickness and health . . .” she continued.
He couldn’t help it anymore. Tears came streaming from Dio’s eyes. This was too much for him. He was about to explode. His blood boiled.