by Tiana Laveen
“Get out, Chi.” The boy turned away and marched out of the garage, his phone still in his hand. “And bring me back my change!”
“It’s a fucking twenty, not a hundred, man! I don’t do that one topping shit if that’s what you expected and I’m not clipping coupons. They try ’nd cheat cha if you use a coupon. That’s a word to the wise. I’m not a cheapskate.”
“You can’t be cheap if you can’t make a decision on whether you are spending a lot of money or only a little. You can’t spend anything by default.”
“Whoa! Chill out with the big words, Vangelis! I have ways to make a little money.” The boy’s eyes narrowed as he undoubtedly got ready to pour himself into a spiel of tall tales meant to impress.
“You’re broke because you’re a child with no income, just like every kid your age. Beggars can’t be choosers. You have champagne tastes on a beer budget, kid.” Vangelis laughed. “Or, in your case, X Box tastes on a Nintendo Classic budget.”
“Look, I have a reputation to uphold.” Chi held his head high as if he were some diplomat. “For my peeps, I go all out! Go hard or go home.” I wanted you to go home two hours ago… “Two liters of Coke, too! That’s how I roll! Hey, speaking of video games, can you give me an extra fifty? Red Dead Redemption 2 seems to be pretty good from the YouTube videos I checked out and it’ll be out in a week. Can you imagine the clout I’ll have if I am one of the first guys to have it?!”
Chi has a lot of fucking nerve… Of course he won’t ask his parents for the money since he said they only pay for educational materials. His grandfather is in charge of money disbursement but when Chi asks for some, that usually lends way to lectures and fights.
Nevertheless, Vangelis found the request for additional funds rather comical. Before he was caught smiling, entertaining such foolishness, Vangelis closed the garage door and made his way to his master suite to prepare to get ready for his father’s Ohi Day party. Traditionally, it was a Greek holiday celebrating the refusal by Greek Prime Minister Ioannis Metazas of the ultimatum made by Italian dictator, Mussolini, in 1940. In actuality, it was just a lame excuse for Dad and his buddies to eat until their guts burst, drink until they were embalmed and pickled from the inside out, and talk dirty in public company.
It was a good time had by most and he planned to show up, visit, eat, kick it a bit with his family, and then retreat back home, hopefully to be in the arms of Sahara. Lately, their schedules hadn’t quite jived up, and he had to admit, he missed her terribly. There had been some pretty serious cases of the flu as of late and she and her colleagues were on the clock more so than usual.
Thirty minutes later, he was showered and dressed and driving to his family’s house in Chula Vista.
When he arrived, he did so bearing gifts. As soon as he rapped on the door and rang the bell, his brother, Tassos, opened it.
I hope he’s not in one of his asshole moods today…
“It’s Angel!” the man yelled as he snatched the wine from his hands and turned his back, leaving him standing there.
Yup. He is.
As he stepped inside the noisy place filled with laughter and music and the smells of delicious food. He closed the door behind him and scanned the area, trying to get a glimpse of his other brothers. In the far corner, he spotted Nico. As if feeling his stare, his brother glanced up, saluted him, and gave him a watery smile as he sat down in a chair. A dark sadness swam in the man’s eyes…
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.
Shit. Things must’ve blown up. I wonder if Amara is here? He looked about from right to left, but didn’t see her. Perhaps she was in the kitchen or dining room?
“Angel!” Tassos belted. “Did you bring any pot? I need a doctor’s note to get more.”
“Shut up, idiot!” Demetrius chortled, finding humor in the bullshit as Dad came up to the three of them and laughed as well.
“My boys!” Dad’s cheeks warmed with a sunset hue as he smiled proudly and wrapped his big arms around them in a giant huddle.
“And stop calling me Angel!” Vangelis rebutted, needing to get the warning out loud and clear. He was in no mood for Tassos’ bullshit; he just wanted to have a good time and then haul ass. But Tassos loved to call him by Mom’s nickname for him that she’d given him as a boy. She’d always claimed he was her good boy, the one that had given her the least trouble since birth, made the best grades, and walked the straight and narrow.
If the woman only knew… The only difference between him and his brothers was that he’d never gotten caught.
“Stop calling you Angel?” Tassos challenged. “Would you prefer I call you Dr. Van-gina like that guy in the grocery store?”
“Oh, shut your mouth!” Demetrius rolled his eyes. “Don’t start. What about you bein’ called titty tassel? You’re such a damn fucktard. Just cut it out, will you?”
Tassos’ complexion deepened with what Vangelis could only pray was utter embarrassment. Demetrius had a way of cutting people down with his sharp tongue, too—they shared that in common. Vangelis however only reserved it for extreme cases. For Demetrius, it was an all the time thing, a way of life. This time, Vangelis rather enjoyed it but his finger itched; he wanted to hike it up and flip his pain in the ass brother off but decided against it due to all the roving eyes. No need to make a scene.
Elli Kokkinou’s, ‘Den Gineatai’ played loudly in the house. Dad was playing his CDs.
“Vangelis,” Dad hooked his beefy hand around his neck, brought his head to him, and kissed it. “How have you been?”
“Uh, good… same as two days ago when I spoke to you on the phone.”
Dad always acted as if he was estranged from his children, as if time had passed like sand through an hourglass and he could only sustain himself on watery black and white memories, faded with time.
Where are the dolmades? I’m starving…
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nico once again. The man hovered about in the dark shadows of the house, his fist wrapped around a cold one and a tilted grin on his face. His eyes appeared shifty, his body language tense, nervous, out of sorts. Before he could turn and approach his brother to find out what the hell had happened, Dad was leading him to the kitchen where Kisa, many aunts and uncles, and several of his cousins were congregated. The party had just begun, but it was quite evident many members of his family had already begun the drunken festivities.
‘Let’s Dance’ by David Bowie came on and someone turned up the volume to an earsplitting level. Only his family would mix classic and modern-day Greek music, contemporary rock, pop, and old school jazz tunes with ’80s jingles and call it a rip-roaring good time.
“Vangelis!” Kisa called out, her voice carrying. The woman’s pregnant belly evident out beneath a long, white tunic. His sister-in-law wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “So glad to see you.”
“Good to see you, too! How’s the pregnancy coming along?”
“Ohhhhh.” She rolled her eyes in a dramatic sort of fashion as she ran her hand against her stomach. “It’s been interesting, okay? I think this is going to be a loooong pregnancy.”
She laughed, her eyes dancing. Kisa had such a pretty smile, and she was smart too. Demetrius was a lucky man. Just then said brother bumped up against him, smiling from ear to ear, and began a long tirade about his broken dirt bike, but Vangelis only half listened as his eyes locked on the person he’d been searching for—Amara. Oddly enough, his sister-in-law looked rather, well, normal, if he said so himself. She didn’t appear out of sorts or angry; in fact, she was laughing and smiling. Standing there in a bright yellow shirt with jeans, nothing about her screamed that she was depressed, angry, or filled with mourning.
Just then Mom entered the kitchen, a serious expression on her face as she carried in a plate of what appeared to be her coveted lamb meatballs. She shot him a glance and her thin, pink glossy lips curled downward, a scowl meant for a nemesis for sure. She turned briskly away, w
ithout even giving a ‘hello.’
Here we go with this scheming bullshit… What the hell was that all about?!
He searched for his father, but the guy was nowhere to be found. Maybe Dad could let him in on the secret. On second thought, he wasn’t certain he was in the mood to find out.
“Vangelis, I made eggplant dip and don’t tell your father.” Kisa stretched her neck like an ostrich before she loudly whispered, ‘This is store-bought hummus!”
“It’s good, too!” Demetrius stated around a mouth full of food. The man dipped his cracker into the big concoction and scooped it up.
“You better not double dip, you disgusting jerk.” Tassos grinned from ear to ear as he chastised Demetrius, trying to get a nice little argument going… probably still angry about the titty and fucktard comment from earlier.
Demetrius jammed the cracker in his mouth and chewed real slow and easy like, his gaze on Tassos, as if he were sizing him up.
“Here titty-titty! Come ’ere, titty-titty!”
Vangelis burst out laughing as Tassos rolled his eyes and stormed off.
“Is Mom grilling?” Vangelis sniffed the air. “It smells kinda like barbecue in here.”
“Yeah, she’s got some lamb chops on the grill.” His brother went to reach for another cracker but Kisa smacked his hand. “Hey, uh, I think that you might—”
But before Demetrius could finish his sentence, their cousin, Otis, came into the room. Otis was overdressed as usual, wearing a black suit and purple tie as if he were headed down to St. Spyridon Greek Orthodox Church right after jamming his face with tomatokeftedes.
“Hey, Van. I wanna talk to you about this back problem I’ve been having.” The guy curled his fingers around his shoulder and regarded him with a serious look in his light brown eyes.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
Like I give a shit. Otis, I know you’re about to try to ask me to participate in some scam…
“Well, see, I was at work and my boss won’t get me a new chair… been going on for a while now, you know?” Vangelis nodded and wore an expression of concern, though he doubted it was very convincing. “I need one of those new chairs that has the controls and such because I sit all day at the computer.” Well then, get up off your ass and move… “I need a doc note so I can get the chair I need because it’s been hell on my back and my boss is dragging his feet and won’t approve it! I need one for home, too… since I work at home sometimes, you know?”
Not this shit again…I knew it. It never did take long for one of Vangelis’ relatives or a friend of the family to come to him at one of these events and ask for all sorts of things, usually miracles that last he checked, only Jesus could administer. Many times, their lists of demands included prescriptions for medications that they had no business having or even a call to their insurance company demanding some sort of cosmetic surgery for their mental and physical well-being.
“Well, Otis, first, you’d actually need to go to a chiropractor, not me. I can’t do anything until you go to a specialist and even then, I—”
“Vaaaan! Your mom is outside. She wants to talk to you!” Uncle Christos yelled out, cutting him off.
Shit.
Everyone looked at him as if he were a child in trouble, a teenage boy about to get a spanking for plucking fresh flowers out of Mom’s garden and giving them to the whore down the street in hopes of some hot pussy on a Saturday night. On a sigh, he tapped Otis’ shoulder and forced a smile.
“We can talk more about this later.”
In a matter of mere moments he was in the backyard with his mother, who reminded him of a red-hot demon biting at the bit. Sweat flowed in slender rivulets down her plump face. Other than that, she looked her usual matronly self with her dyed black hair pinned up in a flower barrette and her apron smeared with sauces. A string of red and blue beads hung around her neck and the matching earrings looked like pieces of shiny candy. She smelled like gardenias and hickory as she flipped the meat over, the flames bright and the smoke framing her as if she were the queen of Hell.
“So!” she began, her brows low, bordered with furious, deep forehead creases. “Nico tells me you’re in a relationship and you haven’t told me!”
NICO! YOU TWO-FACED FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCKER! That fucker! You stupid fucker!!!
“What? Okay, yeah.” He shrugged nonchalantly, not understanding where all of the hostility was coming from. I’ve got to play this cool… “So what?”
“So what? SO WHAT, Angel?! That’s all you can say?!” Mom screamed, waving around some silver metal tongs coated with oil and seasonings at the sharp tips. “I’ll tell you so what, Vangelis! How dare you!” She stomped her foot. “You never tell me anything, right? Mr. Secretive! I am not in the know, your own mother! Your brother Nico has been acting weird so I confront him, and he lets me know he was concerned about you because you’ve been seeing… you’ve been seeing a Black woman!”
Mom gripped her heart as if she were about to have a heart attack, and her eyes glossed over as if she’d just discovered he was an animal serial killer with a penchant for stealing children’s underwear while they slept in the middle of the night. Vangelis rolled his eyes and turned his back to walk away.
“This shit is for the birds. I don’t have the patience for this crap today! Enjoy the wine. I’m fucking outta here.” He waved his hand lazily in the air as he made to head for the land of sanity.
“How dare you talk to your mother that way! How dare you!” she repeated, as if the second time would surely drive the message home.
He spun around on his heels and jetted his finger in her direction, anger and hot venom running through his veins. “How dare I speak to you that way? How dare you bring your racist comments to me!”
“I’m not racist!”
“Really, Mom? Explain this whole thing then, the entire ridiculous conversation we’re having right now. How dare you take offense to your very grown and fully capable son making an adult decision to date and screw whoever I choose. You are not in charge of my life! You may run Dad’s, and you try to run Demetrius’. Tassos allows you to get away with murder and Nico avoids you like the plague! And then there’s me! The one who keeps quiet until my back is pressed against the wall. Well, guess what? Behind me is the Great Wall of China, but you’re probably racist against them, too! Want a fortune cookie while I’m over here? It says you’ll have good luck if you stay the hell outta my business!”
Mom’s eyes grew so large, he was certain they’d pop out of her head. He turned and saw several faces pressed to the kitchen window. Soon, Dad was racing towards him, his big arms swinging like some caveman dashing away from an enraged and hungry dinosaur full of bloodthirst.
“Heeeey!!!! Damn it, you two! What the hell is going on out here?! I could hear you both over the music!” He hitched his thumb towards the house.
“Your son here…” Mom sniffed and batted her eyes, as if fighting tears of pent up misery. “I’ve been upset all day because our son here, our first-born child, is seeing a Black woman!”
Dad’s eyes grew large now, too, and a look of shock came over his face.
“Vangelis, is that true?”
“Of course it’s true!” Mom screamed on his behalf. “Just look at Angel’s face! It says it all!” She pointed at him as if he belonged in some freak show.
“What is this, 1935 in Mississippi?! You two are really something! Get this, Mom… this is gonna really blow your top! I’m in love with her, too! Yeah, that’s right! I love her! Call archpriest Marcario Alanis!”
Mom gasped as she tossed the tongs down onto the ground. Several other family members joined them, talking and asking questions, some yelling Lord knows what, but he tuned the background noise out. After all, they were trying to get down to the bottom of something that was none of their business. And then he saw him… Nico. Vangelis charged through the crowd and without a moment to lose, grabbed the fucker by the shirt collar and wrung him out to dry.
> “Nico, you son of uh bitch! Look what you’ve done! I’ve always been there for you. I was going to do this on my own time but you used me! You come to my house, spill your guts and then you betray me like this!”
“I’m sorry!” Nico’s face turned red and the vein in his forehead protruded as he bent him over a picnic table.
“Why?! My own blood!”
He felt arms tugging on him, people trying to pull him off his dear brother. Nico’s eyes sheened over—not with sadness, but what he guessed was pure terror. Vangelis’ heart was pounding a mile a minute. He couldn’t recall when he’d been so damn angry for it wasn’t in him to blow up easily; but now, the horses were out of the barn and running for their lives within him.
“Mom was… you see, you don’t understand, Van! I didn’t mean it. See, how it all happened was Mom said—”
“Shut tha fuck up, Nico! You know what you are? A backstabbing piece of shit! I expected better from you.”
“But why?” some smart ass commented in the background.
“I’ve never told a single soul anything you’ve ever told me in confidence! I’ve never said anything to anyone. I kept it to myself and this is how you repay me?” Nico blinked several times, but no words came out. “You knew this would start trouble. We discussed this!”
How could he make the man understand that he was far more hurt by the betrayal than the fact that his private life was now smeared all over front street?
“Well, look at Van! Wow! He sure isn’t a van-gina right now, is he?! Hey, Nico! You’re not bobbing and weaving. Fight back if you can! The intelligent, perfect little angel is about to knock you sideways and stupid! Doctor Poise has lost his composure!” Titty chortled from the sidelines.
“Shhh! Not funny, Tassos, be quiet! This isn’t really a good time for all of that!” Amara chastised. “Van, please stop! I don’t know what’s going on here, but let him go.”