by S. W. Frank
Alfonzo exited the Triborough Bridge renamed the RFK Bridge at One Hundred and Twenty-Fifth Street. He always wondered why the city changed the name of a well-known bridge and confused the travelers. However, politicians did a lot of ‘so-called’ sentimental shit at the taxpayer’s expense.
“You know what I remember?” he asked.
The red turned green and he drove for a few more blocks down the main street, passing the famed Apollo Theatre to the west side.
“What?”
He glanced lovingly at his wife after the light quickly changed color. Then he surveyed the streets where old buildings were painted, with refurbished fancy signs and coming out of them were people who wouldn’t have stepped a foot in Harlem when the area was predominately dark skinned people.
The ‘urban renewal’ projects were a slick form of gentrification. The wealthy were buying buildings in the ‘hood, doing renovations, driving up the rents, and basically pushing out low-income people. He recalled a discussion in school about the practice. The students were asked to give their opinions on the article written by sociologist Ruth Glass, in 1964. In 1964, London the practice was happening. Can you believe that? History keeps repeating and if the lottery did that, many who paid attention would become rich.
"One by one, many of the working class quarters of London have been invaded by the middle-classes—upper and lower. Shabby, modest mews and cottages—two rooms up and two down—have been taken over, when their leases have expired, and have become elegant, expensive residences.... Once these processes of ‘gentrification’ starts in a district it goes on rapidly until all or most of the original working-class occupiers are displaced and the whole social character of the district is changed."
Oh, he had opinions galore.
Reflecting, he wished he had cursed more at that smug professor who said gentrification is good for everybody. How so?
He looked hard for something great to say, but what’s there to talk about when home isn’t a place you remember and the landmarks are fading and the prices just to eat, natives can’t afford?
Soon, his ‘hood would become unrecognizable faces, and those bodegas and mom and pop spots would find an expensive coffee chain in its place. Thank goodness, his wife had the foresight to maintain his link to Harlem by keeping his brownstone.
The ancient conquerors cared only about land. Stealing and killing for something nobody owns. To fathom, caring about dirt over people gave him a damn headache. This desire of theft had gone on so long; thieves were given praise over honest hard-working people. Alfonzo never understood the warped history of America. He found too many holes. America was 'inhabited', yet history books praised a lost explorer for its 'discovery.' Then there’s the use of the country as a punishment for debtors, convicts, and poor from Europe and the entire building of a nation on the bones of slaughtered Indians, Africans, Irish, Chinese and others. Then people claim to want independence, yet model after Britain with streets and many other such things, down to the styles of the homes. Man, America had a long way to go before trying to rule over anybody, but he loved it to the bone. He always argued with the professors in college. Truthfully, he was always angry at what he thought was obvious injustices colored by flowery gunk. Yet, if he had cooled down, he may have seen, history repeats because the next generations always think they know better and don’t have a clue about progression, everything’s about religion, money, color and when it’s really about survival of the fittest.
An epiphany occurred. Many of those Italian Old G’s were ancient and established. They saw youth staking claim and dominion over something that was there long before he came and ready to use violence to protect their culture.
Shit, he was America, a young and disrespectful person of his elders and their culture, but thought he knew what was best for the majority when he didn’t live long enough to govern himself.
“I’m waiting,” Selange said, removing her shades to clean the lens with the hem of her shirt.
He scoffed. He’d lost his train of thought. Oh, yeah. “I remember the first time we made love. Babe, you don’t know how tense I was trying to hold back from fucking that sweetness hard.”
She smiled. “You haven’t held back since.”
He took her hand, driving with her fingers interlocked. “And I don’t plan to. Una Vida! One life babe, that’s all we have. You were a series of firsts for me.” He smiled. “You took me to my first live opera, you’re the first chica who quoted poetry to me in bed, you’re the first who had a car that I said ‘holy shit’ when I saw it.”
She giggled. “You’re crazy.”
He leaned over when another stop light sent his foot to the brake. After the amorous glances, he decided to kiss his wife’s sexy mouth, and he did. He leaned back into his seat, holding his dick because the damn thing took a stance. Compressed by material that wouldn’t give, his penis pointed sideways, straight and thick, like a human arm on a clock telling the time. “You’re the first to ever give me a heart attack at the thought of living without you. Look, what you can still do to me neña after muchos años de matrimonio.”
She gave him the Selange smile reserved only for him, a side grin promising pleasures to come. “You were definitely my first of many things, too. Even now, I have goosebumps.” She rubbed between his legs and he did a humping to her hand that made her laugh.
“I gave you goosebumps, yeah –what?”
She laughed and cars began honking for them to move.
“Ah fuck yourselves pendejos!” Alfonzo shouted out the window like a typical brass New Yorker.
~
“Ah man, Alfonzo, que paso?” Manuel greeted when his cousin appeared on the doorstep of the brownstone with his wife. The pair had on urban gear and resembled a teenage couple.
Alfonzo was a cool dude. Many of the people around his cousin’s age had already begun to sport beer bellies in their thirties, but not Alfonzo, he was as fit as if he played ball every day.
“Yo Manny, damn you look like your brother more and more. What’s up primo? Good to see you,” Alfonzo said stepping in after exchanging a fist pump and shoulder contact.
“Hi Selange,” Manuel said, stepping forward for a hug, his chest burning from contact with her breasts. He always thought she was nice. Having a sister with a potty mouth and being around girls on the block who acted rough like the dudes turned him off. When he was younger, he acted shy around Selange because she made him nervous and whatnot. He wasn’t timid anymore and went after the chicas that were sweet and pretty. The chicas with class brought out his best qualities.
“Hi there, wow, you’re more handsome than ever love,” she said to his cheek and then kissed it.
Alfonzo smirked when Manuel blushed. See, that’s his babe, she can make people feel good with a simple compliment but man watch out if she’s pissy drunk, she turns loca and can smack talk your ass into a violent coma, Alfonzo mused. He tried to make certain if she drank, he was right there. Selange could stab somebody with her words. Watch out Manny, he thought.
“You too,” Manuel said releasing Selange after Alfonzo peeped he had held the embrace too long. Alfonzo’s expression issued a stern warning and Manuel backed off respectfully. “I’ll tell ma you’re here.”
The young adult bounded up the stairs to the second floor, calling his madre instead of knocking on the door. Alfonzo could hear the TV playing. Tia Carmen enjoyed her novella, that’s for sure.
Alfonzo nodded an assent. He had to; sometimes reminding himself that he wasn’t always bad eased his guilt. Many things he’d done right. He purchased the
brownstone with clean money from legal business transactions. Every dime he gave his mom and Tia hadn’t touched blood.
His head inclined at a joyful squeal at the top of the stairs and his eyes clutched his auntie tight. He loved that woman and his mother more than they would ever know.
It felt strange standing in the vestibule that once felt huge and impressive. Actually, it wasn’t as big as a closet in many affluent houses. That didn’t matter when everything’s said and done, what’s important is whether the inhabitants are happy.
Carmen’s smile was the hug before her feet in the soft shoes touched the foyer floor. She went on her tiptoes to embrace him, kissing his cheeks, telling him how much she missed him so.
An inhalation of Goya spices and warmth entered his soul. His arms went around softness, chin touched Latina skin, Borikén love.
“Lo siento Tia, I missed the memorial, lo siento.” He apologized profusely.
She leaned out of his embrace, caressed Selange’s arm in acknowledgment before speaking kindly to her nephew. “Domingo was like your brother. Sometimes I would think, he was, you two were so tight. You do not have to apologize for missing a remembrance ceremony when you were there with him as a brother in life. I know you grieve.” She placed her hand to her heart. “Yo sé, I see the sadness in your eyes.” She kissed him again. “Domingo, I would say after you moved away, go visit, talk with your primo, stop the drugs and beating your wife, but he would curse and tell me to mind my business. A month before he died he and Manny fought because he wanted me to co-sign on a loan and I refused. I could tell he was using the drugs Alfonzo. A mother can tell when her son is gone bad.” She held Alfonzo’s cheeks between loving palms. “I saw him die in my dreams many times. My heartaches are not for the Domingo who beat on family, I mourn that my son did not seek help or see how much we all loved him. His soul is at peace, and it is time for us to find the same in our hearts, comprende?”
Alfonzo shook his head. “Tia, why didn’t you call and tell me how bad he got? I asked you Tia was everything all right and you never said he was wilding out.”
“Because I knew you would come and fight. I did not think my son would see the primo he loved. I feared for you Alfonzo.” Her brown eyes were speaking without a filter over the sad truth. “My sons were afraid of their brother and they are men. I will always love Domingo, I am a mother, but with his passing my younger sons do not have to intervene on my behalf and fight their older brother changed by the drugs.”
Selange’s eyes bulged. Well dang!
Carmen patted Alfonzo’s cheek. “¡Ven! I am cooking.” She pointed to the door leading to his mother’s former apartment. “I considered moving downstairs, but I allowed Manny and Rafael to occupy your mama’s place.” She held her ears as she ascended the stairs talking now in Spanish. “But then I said no…they would drive me crazy with the noise above my head. They are not boys anymore and aye when they walk it sounds like giants are in the house. Thump-thump!” she said and then laughed.
Alfonzo and Selange followed Tia Carmen’s backside upstairs, somewhat in shock at her revelation about Domingo. When they entered the apartment, they found Rafael reclining with his feet on the sofa until Alfonzo knocked them to the floor.
“Yo, where’s your manners primo?” Alfonzo asked as his aunt scurried to the kitchen to check on her food.
“Nada, que paso Al, Sela?” Rafael replied as Manny laughed from the sidelines when Alfonzo put his brother who thought he was tough in a mock chokehold.
“Hey none of that, you and Domingo have knocked over too many lamps Al in my home and never replaced them!” Tia Carmen shouted without leaving the kitchen.
Selange smiled, flopping in the space Rafael vacated as Manny joined in the craziness to answer a text from Ari about the surprise party and if she’d made a decision yet about her illegal proposal. Selange text, the answer remained no. Then Jessica called, all while the guys were rolling around and making a racket.
“Hi Jess, how are you?”
“No bueno, I needed someone to talk to.”
Selange removed her shades, stuck them in her purse and the sporty hat went to the sofa. Ugh, she massaged her hair. The curls were flat. “What’s wrong? If you hear the noise in the background it’s because I’m at your mom’s and the boys are rolling on the floor.”
“That’s all you got…that’s all you got primo?” Alfonzo asked when Manny tried to pin him and Alfonzo evaded. He tossed his hat and glasses next to his wife and went at his cousins, instructing them on how to take down a person. Letting them practice on him one at a time. Selange observed with a smirk, she had a front row seat of Al’s ass in jeans. She tucked her feet beneath her tush to admire Al's butt the way boys do to girls.
“Emilio and I broke up girl, that maricón!” Jessica wailed.
“Oh Jess, I am so sorry,” Selange whispered. The brawling continued along with the dramatic music from Carmen’s show. “What happened?”
“Yo no sé. He only said I’m on him too much.”
Selange listened as Jessica’s profanity riddled tirade continued. She belittled her man, said he wasn’t shit and if he could do this and that, until Selange had heard enough. “Okay Jess, from what I’m hearing my ears are bleeding. You have a filthy mouth and I can handle the vulgarity, Al curses all the time –but he doesn’t demean me. I love you and the last thing I want is for you to be unhappy. My advice is to work from the inside out and learn how to communicate lovingly with Emilio, for goodness sake.”
Jessica sniffled. “This is really fucked, I’m serious chica. I do love him, you know.”
“I know…I know.” Selange replied with empathy.
“Oh, Sela’, gotta’ go umwah-umwah he’s calling, I’m going to be nice, gracias-adios!”
Nothing but boys panting.
Selange scoffed. “Okay bye to you, too.”
Tia Carmen appeared in the living room and put her hands on her hips like a wishbone as the cousins panted in an attempt to subdue Alfonzo.
“Alfonzo, didn’t I say stop rough-housing! Aye-ya-ya, you boys never grow up!”
Adult dudes laughed. Alfonzo led the rowdy bunch.
“Tia, get dressed. I’m taking everybody to dinner.” He had planned to take his babe to an Ethiopian restaurant near his alma mater. He figured what the hell; Tia and his cousins deserved a break from the apartment with pictures of the family during happier times. His aunt was relatively young, yet slaved in the kitchen to feed grown ass men on Sabado isn’t what she should be doing on a nice afternoon.
Selange wouldn’t mind. She understood the importance of family. He couldn’t wait until her butt tasted the alechi and he laughed quietly because he would have them all sample awaze, watch them blow snot and gasp for water. Ethiopia is known to have some of the hottest foods. It’s also, where women with his wife’s exquisite bone structure lived and the Queen of Sheba once ruled.
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Aunt Carmen said, and then promptly removed the hairclip and her hair was free. She did a jog-walk to turn off the stove and then yelled, “Cinco minuto Alfonzo, boys get ready and wash those underarms!”
Rafael snuck in a punch and then darted out the door shouting, “Got you sucker!”
Alfonzo took up chase, hopping over the banister and catching the dude before he escaped. The wrestling found another venue. Selange made faces at the loud booms and playful yelps below, wondering if this is what Carmen and Maria suffered on a regular basis when boys ruled in number. She glanced at the time, Anita was probably rising and she placed a call to check on her sweet darlings, mainly Aldonza who had cried to come along, but her dad told her this was mom and dad’s special time. Parents need mini-breaks he said to be better parents so they won’t beat their children’s asses for every bad thing they do.
Aldonza had quieted, crossed her arms and then said, “Va, ahora. And when you come back I hope you’re a better dad and keep your hands to yourself.”
Alfonzo gave her backside a solid smack and she cried theatrically for sympathy and found none from her mother who was tired of her shenanigans.
“We’ll test the theory when I return, mija,” her dad said with authority and ushered Selange out the door. Aldonza silenced when the door clicked shut, as a no-nonsense dad suspected she would.
.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Angelina and Vincent helped to sort the boxes. Clothes were to the right, canned goods to the left in the basement of Sophie’s home. They hadn’t gone to school; even private ones have scheduled days when teachers have trainings and receive procedural updates. In light of the rising wave of violence occurring in schools, administrators sought a proactive approach and implemented a classroom lockdown when an unauthorized person gained access to the facility. Any school Alfonzo’s children attended were certain to have unauthorized extra security.
Sophie hurried upstairs after a staff informed her that Nico waited in the kitchen, sampling her food. The only other person to be that bold was Giuseppe to go into her pots, but Sophie had confided to Selange, Giuseppe made few visits since her marriage to Yosef and when he did, he was always rude.
After a short weekend away, a morning of no children and peace, Selange had returned invigorated, focused on making certain the kids were given individual attention. This week, she had brought along the twins to help with tasks. Small things to give back to others have lasting effects. There was a secret smile as she thought of her weekend with Alfonzo, goodness; he still made her heart race.
Selange turned and grinned at Angelina who did a mathematical problem in her head, speaking aloud. “Zero point three times ten equals three, right Vinnie?”