Chulito: A Novel

by Charles Rice-González

  The travel agency window shattered and Julio fired two gun shots, which sent the auto glass guys running. When Brick heard the shots he shoved Damian away and ran to the store. As he climbed through the broken window, Julio crouched behind his desk, took aim and shouted, “Stay the fuck out!”

  “Yo, it’s me, Brick.” Julio saw him and got up. “Yo, Julio, put that gun down, bro.”

  “No, our boys are in trouble and nobody is gonna help them.”

  Brick blocked his path.

  “Move, Brick. I will kill any of those motherfuckers even if I have to go to jail. They need to know that they cannot fuck with us. We are not a bunch of scared faggots who cower when they flex their macho attitudes.” Julio pushed past Brick, jumped through the window and ran toward the corner. He fired several shots into the air. There were screams and everyone ran in different directions.

  “Stop it, you fucking animals!” Julio shouted as he charged the corner.

  In trying to stop the fight, Chin-Chin and Davey were now fighting with Papo. Looney Tunes was trying to get Davey and Chin-Chin to stay out of it. Damian and the two auto glass guys took off across the street to the shops. Chulito was bruised and bloody with his right eye nearly swollen shut. Carlos’ shirt was covered in Puti’s blood but he went to Chulito and held him.

  Papo stood defiant. He had blood oozing out his mouth and nose, and running down his right ear and the side of his head from a gash in his scalp.

  Julio aimed the gun at Papo.

  “Gimme the gun!” Brick yelled.

  “Listen to your boyfriend,” Papo said, coughing.

  “Fuck him, Julio. Just give me the gun.” Brick held out his hand.

  Papo smirked. “You just a faggot with a gun, Julio. You ain’t gonna shoot me, and if you do, you better kill me with the first shot, ‘cause if not, you going down, no joke.” Julio cocked the gun and moved closer to Papo. “Enough.”

  When he heard the sounds of sirens in the distance, Brick put his hand on Julio’s shoulder and traced it down his arm until it reached the gun. He took the gun out of Julio’s hand and put it in his pants. Julio trembled with pent up rage, and walked up to Papo and yelled from the pit of his gut, “Enough!”

  “You better get out my face, bitch,” Papo said.

  “Enough!” Julio didn’t budge. “Enough, enough, enough!”

  “Yo, Papo, let’s bounce, man, the cops are coming,” Looney Tunes said.

  Julio turned and shouted at Looney Tunes “Enough!” and then he went to Davey and Chin-Chin and repeated, “Enough!” Then he looked across the street to the auto glass shops and yelled, “Enough!” and then he turned to Puti’s mother and almost in whisper said, “Enough.”

  Martha and Brenda held on to each other. Debbie left with Damian and the other auto glass guys as Kamikaze drove up to the scene.

  Orlando from Rivera’s grocery store was handing out rolls of paper towels so that folks could clean up. When he offered a roll to Papo, he smacked it out of Orlando’s hand. He glared at Davey and Chin-Chin. “I’m sick of all y’all.” Papo wiped his hands. “I wash my hands of all of you niggas. You and the faggots are gonna burn in hell. You too, Chulito. You acting one way and being another.” Papo walked casually away as the police and ambulance arrived.

  “Where you think you going?” Martha said to Papo, who just turned and gave her the finger.

  Carlos was not allowed to go in the ambulance with Chulito because he was under eighteen. Maria went with Chulito in the ambulance and Kamikaze drove Carlos to the hospital.

  Brick and Julio talked to a female police officer in the travel agency and she filled out a report. Julio pressed charges against the two auto glass guys who smashed his window and assaulted him.

  Kamikaze drove Chulito, Carlos and Maria back home from the hospital. When they pulled up in front of the building, the bodega on the corner was closed, the fellas were not hanging on the corner, and the block was fairly empty. Only Puti’s blood stain remained as evidence of the battle that had taken place.

  “Anybody hungry? Micky D’s?” Kamikaze said.

  Maria thanked Kamikaze for the ride but said frostily, “I’m going to heat up some real food. I don’t want any of that McDonald’s crap.” Then she got out of the car.

  “I’m not hungry,” Chulito said through his swollen lips.

  “Not even for a milkshake?” Kamikaze asked.

  Chulito smiled and winced because it hurt.

  “Even all beat up, you’re still beautiful, Chulito,” Carlos said.

  “Awwww.” Kamikaze teased.

  “Shup up, yo,” Chulito said.

  Kamikaze looked toward the backseat at Carlos. “So, three shakes?”

  “Not for me,” Carlos said. “I think momid. thi. Is cooking is more my style. You coming, Chulito?”

  “In a few. I’m gonna get a shake.”

  Carlos leaned forward and hugged Chulito, who sat in the passenger’s seat. “I’ll wait up.”

  He patted Carlos’ arm. “Cool, ‘cause I think you wants to play doctor.”

  Kamikaze covered his ears playfully. “Too much info, bro.”

  Without making eye contact, Carlos thanked Kamikaze and got out of the car.

  They rode the three blocks down to McDonald’s silently. Chulito knew every inch of those blocks as they passed—the order of auto glass shops, the colors in the giant Tats Cru mural, the cracks in the rose brick wall surrounding the Banknote building, the vehicle line-up of the school bus company and the ever changing oil slicks on the ground at the gas station with the Dunkin’ Donuts. Everything seemed the same, but it wasn’t. Whereas before the dirt and the grime were just a part of the neighborhood, he now saw them as disgusting. He had to live with the dirt all his life because he had no other choice. He had to just deal with it. But he realized that he had choices and living in Hunts Point was a choice. He tried to imagine a different life—a life where he could love Carlos and not have to fight or watch his back, where there was more good times and less dealing with shit, where he could find a new way of living, where they could wake up feeling relaxed, go to the movies, eat at restaurants without being hassled, where they could go to the beach and swim, feeling open and free. Would he have to leave Hunts Point to have this life he was imagining or did he have the balls to do it here? Was that even possible?

  Kamikaze pulled up in line at the drive through. “Want anything else? Fries?”

  Chulito shook his head. “Don’t think I can handle anything else. My jaw hurts like hell.”

  Kamikaze patted his knee. “Then don’t talk, little bro.”

  But Chulito needed to talk because every punch, shove and kick with which Papo came down on him didn’t keep him down. He fought back. He stood up. And even though it felt like every bone and muscle in his body was bruised, he felt powerful.

  “If I have to, I will fight every single day, but I feel like I want to go live somewhere else. Someplace where being with Carlos is not the end of the world.”

  Kamikaze nodded and listened.

  “Look at me, Kaz, I’m wrecked and this was done by Papo. Someone I used to look up to. Someone who’s known me most of my life.” Chulito paused. He wanted to say the one thing he was afraid of saying to him up front. Maybe it was the adrenaline that was still pulsing through his body, but he felt it was now or never. “These streets look the same but everything is different, right?”

  Kamikaze moved his head from side to side weighing Chulito’s question. The car moved up and Kamikaze placed the order.

  Chulito closed his eyes and breathed evenly. This was his moment. He had to let Kamikaze know that he wanted out of the game. He felt the car move forward again and heard Kamikaze pay for their order. His heart began to pick up its pace as he felt the car move and stop behind the next car. Then he looked at Kamikaze, who’d been watching him attentively. “I’m thinking, that, maybe…” Chulito paused. “I’m thinking I should get out of the game. Find a job doing something. Go legit.
”

  Kamikaze breathed in so deeply it sounded as if he’d sucked all the air in the car, then he held it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly. “Think about what you saying. Think it through.” He then looked away from Chulito. “How you gonna say something like that when I got your back no matter what, right?”

  “I know, but—”

  “But nothing!” Kamikaze slammed the dashboard. “Where the fuck is this coming from? Carlos? Is that preppy fuck pressing you?”

  “No, I—”

  “You have no fucking idea what you are asking.” Kamikaze gripped the steering wheel and shook it. He banged the dashboard board with his fist and without looking at Chulito said, “Get the fuck out of the car.”

  “Kaz,” Chulito pleaded.

  “Out!” Kamikaze looked straight ahead, breathing heavily. “Now.”

  Chulito turned slowly. Clicked the lock open. Took hold of the handle. He was expecting Kamikaze to say, “Chill. Stay in the car.” He wanted him to say or do something to stop him from leaving. Instead, Chulito stepped out and closed the door. When the door shut he heard the locks click. He couldn’t see Kamikaze through the tinted glass, so he walked forward to look at him through the windshield but Kamikaze avoided his stare. Then Kamikaze began honking his horn andg hee Kam called out, “Hurry the fuck up in there!”

  Chulito didn’t expect to feel his heart break. It hurt more than the bruises on his body. Was that it? Had Kamikaze thrown him out and would he never talk to him again? He held back tears. He wanted to run home to Carlos, slip into his arms and let go. Let the tears roll. Let the hurt take over and feel the warmth and comfort of Carlos. He was too bruised to run home to Carlos. He managed to take one step after another and limped as fast as he could up Garrison Avenue, away from McDonald’s and toward home. He wiped away his tears he couldn’t hold back, then he had to pause a second because the pain in his chest was crippling. He reached for his phone. It was only three blocks to their building, but maybe Carlos could come get him. He breathed deeply and as he was about to dial, he heard Kamikaze’s car screech to a halt next to him. The window slid down. “Here’s your shake.”

  Chuilto hesitated. Kamikaze still looked furious.

  “C’mon, I ain’t got all night.”

  As Chulito reached for the shake he saw Kamikaze’s other hand swing around and point a gun with a silencer at him. “Now, if you really want out of the game, this is how I’m supposed to let you out.”

  Chulito fell back against a parked car. Kamikaze held the gun steady. Chulito panicked. He could be killed right then and there. The block was empty. He shook his head slightly. He wanted to say, “Please don’t, Kamikaze. Please, don’t kill me. Don’t let me die without seeing my mom and seeing Carlos one last time.” The words couldn’t come out. He managed to just plead with his eyes. Kamikaze clicked out the gun’s clip and then reached out his window and fired the gun into the sky. “Now it’s empty so get in the car.” Chulito was paralyzed by the fear of having the gun pointed at him and how quickly it all had happened. Kamikaze could have pumped a few into him and he’d be gone. It would be that easy.

  “Chulito, please get in. One thing you have to believe is that I would kill myself before I would harm you.”

  Chulito’s knees gave and he fell to the ground. He never would have imagined that Kamikaze would point a gun at him, and if that weren’t enough, Kamikaze’s deadly glare scared the shit out of him. Maybe Kamikaze had changed his mind, but Chulito knew that he had considered wiping him out. The changes in his life were happening so fast, like dominoes knocking down one after another.

  Kamikaze got out of the care and came around to help him up. “Get off me.” Chulito struggled at first and then acquiesced. He felt as if he’d exhausted his last reserve of energy. He was like a rag doll being held up by Kamikaze’s embrace. Chulito choked on his sobs.

  and then color="black">Kamikaze held Chulito with one arm and opened the passenger’s door with the other. He helped him into the seat. Kamikaze drove around the corner and parked near the convent.

  Chulito continued to sob. Letting the tears roll down his face, drip off his chin and get absorbed by his jersey.

  He offered Chulito the shake. “Chulito, you think it’s easy to get out the game? Once you in, you in. That’s the fine print—well, more like the invisible print.” He put Chulito’s shake in the cup holder between them. “Maybe when you a low-level street runner it might be possible, but the deeper you go, the more about the operation you know, the more of a liability you become. And you, little brother, are in pretty deep. So you can’t just quit, because for as long as you live you’ll know the players, where they live, where they get their stash, and any leak of info could bring down the operation and big money will be lost. To ensure that info doesn’t get out, you would get iced. Same deal if someone is a fuck up and they need to get ‘fired,’ they just get popped.” He held up the gun. “This decides who goes.”

  “So you saying I can’t get out?”

  “Well, if I let you just walk, then I look weak and Rey might take me out and then take you out anyway.” Kamikaze sipped his shake in thought. “But I’m good for business, got a good rep, lead a clean, smooth operation and it takes years to build the trust up. And money talks when it comes to Rey, so he won’t take me out easily, but you’re a loose thread he can cut.”

  “Fuck.” Chulito feared for the safety of Carlos and his mother. “And what about Brick? He got out?”

  “Brick was tough and smart. They sent a couple of dudes to do him, but he was one step a head and popped the fucking assassins first.”

  “Brick killed them?” Chulito picked up his shake and sipped. “Damn.”

  “But Brick paid, too, with his grandmoms. He ain’t had much family, just her and Jennifer. They knew the grandma would hurt harder, so they warned him first, just roughing her up and puttin’ her in the hospital.”

  “I heard about that.”

  “Then, when he wouldn’t come back, they had the old woman run over. They made it all seem like a fucking hit and run. They would have popped Jennifer next and she was pregnant, but keeping her alive was to their benefit. If they’d killed her, Brick would have had nothing to keep him from going maverick. By keeping her alive, it ensured that Brick would keep quiet. kewas I think part of that Jesus tat on his back has something to do with his grandma.”

  Chulito set down his shake. “So I gotta stay in the game?”

  “I’ma figure something out. Don’t worry. Like I said, money talks with Rey. But you think about it. You don’t got brains like Carlos, and you know the street. What are you going to do?”

  Chulito shrugged. “I haven’t thought about what I would do. It would be legit, though.”

  “Well, one thing you know is that you ain’t going to be pulling in the loot like now. And even though your moms looks the other way, she benefits from having a light financial load.”

  Chulito nodded.

  “Seriously, is Carlos pressing you?”

  “I’d been thinking about getting out.”

  Kamikaze nodded. “Sorry for blowin’ up at you and the gun and shit, but I got heated.” He looked at Chulito. “It ain’t like I’m just losing an employee. I’m gonna miss you, Chulito. You’re my blood. What am I going to do without my boy, huh?” Kamikaze slurped the last of his shake.

  Chulito sat up. “Wait, we can’t still chill?”

  Kamikaze shook his head. “You’ll become a liability to me. They’ll know that and they could get to me through you and I can’t have that. That’s why you wanting to get out hurt so much.” Kamikaze picked up Chulito’s shake and took a deep sip.

  “Yo, that’s my shake.”

  Kamikaze smiled slyly. “I bought it, nigga.”

  Everything was changing faster than he thought. Even though he hadn’t been hanging out with the fellas lately, he wouldn’t be back out on the corner, and now losing Kamikaze, too, seemed like too much.

  Kamik
aze handed the shake back to Chulito. He sipped it. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you Kaz.”

  “You could change your mind.” Kamikaze raiseKam

  Chulito passed the shake to Kamikaze. “Don’t you ever think about getting out of the game?”

  “Nah. This is what I know and I’m good at it.”

  “Don’t it ever bother you?”

  “What? That our peeps be hooked on it? Yeah, it bugs me a bit, but shifting from street level to the clubs makes it a little easier, and I focus on the business aspect. And I ain’t responsible for the decisions that addicts make. It’s on them.” Kamikaze turned on the ignition. “You’ve had a big night, and ‘sides you got someone waiting.”

  He pulled out and drove to the front of Chulito’s building. “So, little brother, I’m gonna consider this like they do in the corporate world and take this as you giving me notice, O.K.? Give me a couple of weeks so I can figure shit out and get some help.”

  Chulito nodded. “However much time you need. Hey, what about Miguel who runs the east side clubs for you?”

  “I’ll handle figuring that part out. Yo, you ain’t gonna get jealous when you see me rollin’ with another cat in that seat?”

  “Of course I will be.”

  Kamikaze smiled. “You better.”

  With great effort Chulito pulled his aching body out of the car. He watched the red and blue taillights become dots and disappear in the distance before he went inside.

  When Chulito arrived at Carlos’ apartment, Maria was putting plates in the sink and Carlos was seated at the table eating. Although Carmen wasn’t due back from Puerto Rico for another two weeks, Chulito knew that bad news and drama travelled fast, so he called her to clue her in.

  “Chulito, what happened? Of all the years we lived there, nothing like this has ever happened.”

  “Papo just started some shit and I couldn’t take it. But I’ll let you know all the juicy details when you get back,” he joked.

  Carmen sighed. “If anything were to happen to you, I think I would die. Ay, I’m coming home on the next flight.”