Chulito: A Novel

by Charles Rice-González

  “I didn’t know you were into rap music,” Carlos said to Kenny.

  “Honey, I’m into rap music lovers. I got me a bad case of thug passion.”

  “I know what that is,” Chulito said. “Hennessey and Alizé.”

  “Yes, that and it’s also me getting all stupid over guys like that brother over there.”

  The trio had reached the corner of Seventh Avenue and Christopher Street. Chulito discovered there was no big gate or gray stone houses in the West Village either. Nothing special. It looked just like all the small streets they had passed. Christopher Street was narrow and lots of guys were checking him out. He was used to women staring him down, but not guys, not like this. Usually, when guys checked him out they were nervous and looked away, but here they held the stare, and a few even shared comments—“Damn,” “Want some company, papi,” “Are you my baby daddy.” Chulito liked the attention.

  “Kevin!” Kenny called out in the same falsetto he’d used to call Carlos. “Let’s go say hi.”

  Kenny led the trio over to Kevin who was dressed like a hard up thug—du rag tight around his braids, open Enyce jersey, loose shorts and Timberland boots. “Wassup, m’brother?”

  “Chillin’,” Kevin responded. “’Sup, Carlos. Ain’t seen you in a minute.” Chulito watched Kevin hug Carlos and didn’t like him pressing Carlos against his bare chest.

  Carlos pulled away from Kevin. “This is my friend Chulito.”

  Kevin held up a fist, and Chulito bumped fists with him.

  “’Sup Chulito. I ain’t seen you around here before.” He crossed his arms and sized up Chulito.

  < Stif and sizfont color="black">“Chulito and I grew up together,” Carlos said. “It’s his first time in the Vil.”

  Kevin pulled down his shades to reveal light brown contact lenses. He chewed on a toothpick that sat in the right corner of his mouth. “Welcome downtown, little brother, you in good hands with these two. Kenny will get you in trouble and Carlos will get you out of it.” Everyone but Chulito laughed.

  Kenny lifted one of the open flaps of Kevin’s unbuttoned Enyce jersey. “Well you looking good, Kevin. Been hitting the gym, I see.” Kevin tapped his hand away.

  “Sorry. We headed over to the pier.” Kenny said. “Wanna come?”

  “I just came from there.”

  “Who’s there?”

  “The usual suspects. I might hit The Monster, since I turned twenty-one a few weeks ago.”

  “Happy belated birthday.” Kenny kissed him on the cheek.

  “Chill, Kenny, don’t be slobberin’ all over me. Stop acting so hungry.”

  “The Monster is one of the oldest gay bars in the Village,” Carlos explained to Chulito, pointing to it, “but we have to be over twenty-one to get in.”

  Chulito looked over to The Monster. He had been to so many bars and lounges with Kamikaze that he figured the gay bars looked the same, except for guys and women it would be guys and guys. He could make out men sitting in the big windows with drinks in hand.

  “Well, enjoy the Monster,” Kenny said. “It’s just the pier for us young queens.”

  They continued down Christopher Street, stopping to look at windows of shops that sold Speedo swim trunks, tight form fitting clothes displayed on shirtless mannequins with big bulges, sex toys, exotic soaps, candles, and porn magazines and DVDs. Chulito thought that it was wild for everything to be out in the open.

  “Let’s go in.” Kenny stepped into a shop that had a mannequin wearing leather chaps, a harness and mask.

  “Nah.” Chulito said l Shul0">

  Carlos shook his head and smiled. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

  “I ain’t afraid.” Chulito folded his arms across his chest. “It just ain’t my scene.”

  Carlos laughed. “Yeah, right.” He was unphased, relaxed and even laughed a lot more than he did walking down Garrison Avenue.

  By the time they reached the pier, Kenny and Carlos had greeted about fifty people and had as many mini conversations about as many topics. Chulito felt out of place. He longed to go back to the ’hood.

  The sun was setting over the Hudson River with its rays dancing on the rippling waves and the warm light casting long shadows. The pier was buzzing with young people, rollerbladers, joggers and vendors selling ice cream, hot dogs and shish kebobs. Chulito thought it looked more like a park than a pier. There was a small plaza at the entrance and a long expanse of neatly trimmed grass full of people relaxing. “This is dope. I wish we had one of these back up in Hunts Point.”

  Carlos smiled. “Glad you like it, Chulito. This is where I spend most of my time. It’s free, there are always lots people, there’s food and there’s even a bathroom.”

  Chulito continued to check out the scene and wondered if the group of break dancers, spinning on their backs and uprocking, were gay. There were guys who looked like Papo, Davey and Chin-Chin from his neighborhood, except these guys were holding hands or making out. “I’m a little bugged out,” he said with a laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Carlos asked.

  Kenny leaned into him. “Culture shock, honey.”

  The trio walked over to a couple sitting on the grass. Pito was a slim Black, Cuban guy wearing baggy sweats, high top New Balance sneakers and a ribbed, white tank top. He had his arms wrapped around Sebastian, a creamy colored Latino with sky blue eyes who was short, very muscular, shirtless and also wore sweat pants.

  Kenny plopped down next to them. “Hey, lover boys, this is Chulito, Carlos’ friend.”

  They both said “wassup” to Chulito. Pito kept nuzzling Sebastian’s neck and kissing his ear. Sebastian winked at Chulito who looked away.

  A short drag queen in high heels called out to Kenny, “Bitch, where have you been?”

  Kenny jumped up and ran over to her. The two hugged and had a conversation that was all arms.

  Carlos sat on the railing near the couple and invited Chulito to join him. Chulito just leaned beside him.

  “Kenny’s talking to Lady Elektra,” Carlos said. “You O.K.?”

  “This is not what I expected, but niggas are definitely doing their thang.” Chulito looked at Pito and Sebastian who were locked in a kiss.

  “Well, you wondered where I go. This is one place. We’re too young to get into clubs or bars. The Gay Center sometimes has parties and there is Kurfew, an under twenty-one party, which is fun. We go to the pizza shop we passed on Christopher Street, too.”

  Two tall white boys who reminded Chulito of slightly younger versions of the German twins from Tats Cru walked over to them. They were slim with tattoos on their arms. Both had on eyeliner, which made their blue eyes brighter.

  “These two lucky suckas are models,” Carlos whispered to Chulito.

  “We got a call back for an A and F campaign, but another set of twins got it. They asked Sean over here to come back, though,” Siobhoan said of his brother.

  “I’m not going. We’re a team,” Sean said.

  “You are going, ‘cause money is money, right?” Siobhoan asked. Carlos nodded.

  Sean leaned on his brother. “So then you go. Those assholes are not going to be able to tell the fucking difference.”

  “Guys, this is my friend Chulito.”

  Sean and Siobhoan raised their eyebrows simultaneously. “Very nice,” they said in unison.

  Kenny danced with the drag queen and some other young folks. The break dancers joined them and started voguing and striking poses to the beat from a boom box playing house music. Carlos swayed.< Sfon>“We go/span>

  Chulito was amazed by so much activity. He thought the Village would be overrun by goth kids and drag queens, but he was excited to see so many guys who looked like him.

  Carlos hopped off the railing. “You wanna dance, Chulito?”

  “You crazy? I don’t dance,” Chulito responded. “But go do ya thing.”

  “I don’t want to leave you by yourself.”

  “I’m cool.”

  Ca
rlos ran over to Kenny and danced. The twins joined the crowd, and soon about thirty or forty people were dancing wildly and freely to the music under a streetlight. Meanwhile, Pito and Sebastian kept kissing and Chulito noticed Pito slip his hand inside of Sebastian’s sweats, grabbing hold of the bulge that had grown.

  Embarrassed, Chulito walked away from the couple and wondered if everybody on the pier was gay. His question was answered when he recognized Damian dancing with one of the strippers from the club they’d gone to for his birthday. A salsa song had come on and some people left the dance area while others broke into pairs and started salsa dancing—boys with boys, girls with girls, and boys with girls. The little bit of ease and fascination that Chulito had with the pier quickly shifted to panic. What the fuck was Damian doing there?

  Carlos and Kenny came over to Chulito, laughing.

  “We gotta bounce,” Chulito said abruptly.

  Carlos followed Chulito’s line of sight and saw Damian spinning the young woman around. “Is that Damian? I’ve never seen him here before.”

  Kenny looked over. “You know that guy dancing with the stripper? I’ve never seen him either, but she’s always here. That’s Lady Elektra’s sister. Anyway, some of us are gonna head over to Kurfew. You two wanna come?”

  “Let’s get out of here.” Chulito pulled his cap down low and stormed off. Carlos and Kenny followed.

  Kurfew was like the pier, except multiplied by a hundred. Young people danced under elaborate, flashing lights and the entire room vibrated from the massive sound system. The bar area was lit from below so the bartenders, male and female, looked like alien beings. All around the periphe Sd tn>

  Pito and Sebastian danced crotch to crotch on the dance floor and kissed continuously. The twins danced together and Lady Elektra gave an impromptu show. Kenny, Carlos and Chulito were drinking sodas and Kenny was giving Chulito the gossip on just about everyone in their sight. Hunts Point and the fellas on the corner seemed far away.

  Carlos sat across from Chulito at one of the tall tables and because the music was so loud Kenny sat beside Carlos and talked right into his ear. Even though Carlos listened to Kenny he stared at Chulito. They held one another’s gaze and smiled. Chulito’s dick stirred. He looked at Carlos’ fingers wrapped around the glass of Diet Pepsi. With his index finger he touched one of Carlos’ neatly clipped fingers. All around him young couples were embracing, kissing, laughing, dancing. He wanted to go around the table and take him into his arms and finally feel him pressed close.

  Chulito checked the crowd every so often to see if he spotted anyone he knew, but the coast was clear. Remembering Damian at the pier, he realized that the world of Hunts Point and the pier were not completely exclusive of each other. And even though the young people at Kurfew where all types, like flamboyant Kenny, conservative Carlos, fellow thugged out dudes and everything in between, they seemed to get along and be happy. This was their place, Carlos’ place and a place he could be with Carlos.

  Big Pun’s “Still Not a Player” mixed in to the beats and Chulito bopped.

  “This is your boy, Chulito, you wanna dance?” Kenny shouted.

  “Nah,” Chulito said.

  “C’mon, Carlos let’s go dance.” Kenny said, then darted to the dance floor and wedged himself in between the twins.

  Chulito waved Carlos toward the dance floor. “Go dance, I’m cool.”

  Carlos imitated Chulito and bopped his head. “This is Pun, right?”

  “Yeah, but I can’t dance.” Chulito did a little awkward shimmy.

  “Liar, come dance.” Carlos grabbed Chulito’s hand tried to pull him to dance.

  Chulito yanked his hand out of Carlos’ grip. “Yo, chill, don’t get open, you buggin’?” < Sspack">

  “Oh, just come stand and bop your head. You could do that.” Carlos dragged Chulito to the dance floor. Chulito squeezed Carlos’ hand, followed and stood in place bopping his head from side to side scanning the crowd. Kenny came over and danced around Chulito before going back to the twins. It seemed like the whole club knew the words to the song as they all sang along with Pun. What would Pun think about a club filled with gay young people groovin’ to his music? The song by J.Lo and Ja Rule thumped into the mix. The crowd once again sang along. The beat was slower, so Chulito moved his shoulders a little. He watched Carlos who was singing along with Jennifer Lopez, looking so happy. Then Ja Rule’s part of the song came along and Carlos sang along with the gravelly voice. He grabbed his crotch and pretended to be a thug and bopped over to Chulito who laughed. Kenny became thug number two and they bumped chests and pretended to fight. When Jennifer came back, they both imitated her and blew kisses at each other and the two Jennifers danced around Chulito.

  When the music changed to a house music song that had a lot of piano playing in the beginning, Chulito backed off the dance floor and Carlos followed.

  Carlos picked up the soda he’d been drinking earlier and said teasingly, “I thought you didn’t dance?”

  “I was not dancing. You and those people were.” Chulito pointed to the crowd. “You got some moves, Carlos. And your J. Lo wasn’t too bad.”

  “What about my Ja Rule?”

  Chulito smiled. “No comment, but I could help you if you want.”

  “Oh, you’re gonna give me thug lessons?”

  “If you want.” Chulito struck a tough pose.

  “Let’s go.”

  They waved good-bye to their friends on the dance floor. Kenny blew kisses to them with both hands and danced back into the crowd.

  Chulito and Carlos ate pizza on Christopher Street and then strolled through the neighborhood, passing brownstones, theatres, cabaret lounges, bars and restaurants with white table cloths and little candles on them. They talked about Carlos’ college and

  internship at theNewYork Daily News, Chulito’s adventures with

  Kamikaze, and about their mothers. Carlos bought some books from a street vendor and at two in the morning they were eating strawberry shortcake and drinking milk at a diner on the Westside Highway. There were moments of long silences w Sng re here the two just walked side by side or simply looked at each other. When the sky started to lighten they found themselves back on the pier. This time it was deserted, except for an occasional jogger running by as the sky went from black to cobalt blue. They sat leaning into one another facing the Hudson River. Silently. Staring out into the dark water, stealing glances, sharing smiles.

  Carlos tapped the brim of Chulito’s Yankee cap. “Eventually we’re going to have to head back to Hunts Point.”

  “No doubt,” Chulito said sadly.

  “But this is always here,” he said, looking around, “and knowing that helps me deal with the neighborhood.”

  “You were going to stay out in Long Island but came back because of me, right?”

  Carlos nodded. “And my mom is in Hunts Point, so I’ll always come back, but it’s tough living there. And at the same time, I can’t live here. It’s expensive for one. And for me to find roommates and live in a place like Spanish Harlem wouldn’t make sense. I might as well stay in Hunts Point. At least I know the thugs on the corner.”

  “True. I didn’t know what to expect, but tonight was pretty dope. I met so many new cool people, including Kenny, that nut. And the disco was a riot. The Village wasn’t what I expected, but I can see why you come here so much.” Chulito moved closer to Carlos and their legs touched. “Everybody is so open. I can’t wait to hang with you again.”

  Carlos smiled. Chulito stood up, extended his hand, and pulled Carlos up.

  He didn’t want to release Carlos’ hand. Chulito wanted to walk hand in hand, fingers laced, but he released Carlos’ hand, dusted the seat of his pants and said, “Let’s bounce.”

  They walked across town to the six train in the pre-dawn light. Chulito watched Carlos sleep on the ride back to the Bronx. Carlos’ head leaned against the subway map and his stringy hair fell on either side of his face. As the train screeched
and jerked, Carlos awakened, smiled and fell back to sleep. Chulito didn’t look away. Since there weren’t many people in the subway and most of them were asleep, he took Carlos in watching his slim chest rise and fall, then following a vein running down his right forearm and imagined what it would feel like to trace it with his finger. Carlos’ hands loosened their grip on the plastic bag with the books he’d bought. Chulito wanted to press those hands to his face and kiss each finger tip. He burned to walk across the train, kneel before him and press his face to Carlos’ stomach and hold him close, feeling his warmth, breathing him in. He felt himself lengthening in his pants and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees a Sn hhim close,s he pressed his erection with his elbow enjoying the rush.

  As the subway clambered up to the Bronx, Chulito finally looked away. The night he’d just spent with Carlos confirmed that he knew exactly what he wanted. The question he now asked himself was whether he had the balls to go through with it. It was one thing to feel and acknowledge the desire he felt for Carlos. Acting on those desires would take things to another level. What would it mean if instead of just staring at Carlos’ mouth, he actually kissed it. If he actually held hands with Carlos, or hugged him close. Would he be gay? Or bi? Just by spending this night with Carlos, something had shifted and he wanted more. Of what? He wasn’t sure yet. They’d be home in Hunts Point soon. He thought

  aboutThe Wizard of Ozand how throughout the whole movie

  Dorothy was trying to get home. That night, the Village was like Oz bursting with color and strange new sights. He always thought being in Oz was way better than black and white Kansas.

  Chulito took the sleeping Carlos in one more time, then walked across the empty train car and pushed a strand of hair away from his face. The feel of it made his crotch stir. Carlos continued to sleep. Chulito adjusted himself and was grateful for his baggy pants. He took one last longing look before shaking him. “Yo, we home.”

  chapter twelve

  As Chulito and Carlos climbed the steps out of the train station, Chulito noticed Brick sitting on the ledge at the top of the stairs. Chulito backed off into the safety of the subway station.