Efrain's Secret (21 page)

My grandmother jokes that Rubio was restless from conception, kicking his way out of the womb two weeks before the
doctor said he was due. Yeah, that’s just like him. I don’t know how Junior and I could be his sons, seeing that Rubio needs so much attention. Maybe it’s one of those recessive genes that sometimes skips a generation.

As I pace with Junior in Awilda’s bedroom, I imagine what it might be like to grow up in that apartment. How old will he be when his father takes up with the next chick? When will Rubio decide he’s old enough to do it in his face and tell him to lie to Awilda about where they’ve been? Will there be any money to send Junior to college if Rubio knocks up the latest jump-off? And Awilda being the type of chick who doesn’t think anything of lying down with a married father of two and getting pregnant, what kind of
tíos
are going to be around him when Rubio moves on?

Junior raises his fist to me again. I give him another pound with my knuckle. “Don’t worry, Little Man,” I say. “I got you.”

Collusion
(n.)
a secret agreement, conspiracy

“No, nope, sorry,” I say as I step off the curb.

“C’mon, E., why not?” pleads Nestor. “Oh, I get it.” Nestor closes the gap I created between us. “For all your talk about
You more GiGi’s speed
, you’re hedging your bets.”

“No! Why you pressing me for this double date, kid? You asked her out; she done said yes.
Se ’cabó.”
I have other reasons not to want to break bread with that breezy. Like Candace finding out just how close Nestor and I truly are. “Damn, as long as you’ve been pining for that chick, you ain’t fiending to be alone with her?”

Nestor stares at his Jordans as he shuffles in place. “Okay, here’s the deal. I may be more GiGi’s speed, as you like to put it, but she ain’t exactly some ’hood rat, you know what I mean?”

“No, not really.” A car creeps up to the curb. I peek inside at two scruffy White boys barely a few years older than I am. “What’s up?”

The driver asks, “Have you seen Hayden around?”

“Yeah, I know her.”

The passenger grabs my arm. “And I’m looking for Ana.” Nervous little amateur, isn’t he? I would’ve figured him for a Clemenhead, too, from the bone-crushing grip he has on me. “Ana lives around here?”

“Yeah, I know both those girls. You can catch Hayden at ten.”
In other words, ten bucks will buy the driver one aluminum packet of horse. “Ana gets off at one.” That means the gym candy will cost his friend a dollar per capsule. Both driver and passenger reach into their pockets and hand me some cash.

As I start to step back from the car to signal LeRon, Clemenhead grabs me again. “Hey, what about Ruth?”

The driver nods like a bobblehead doll. “Yeah, Ruth!” He and Clemenhead cackle like hyenas and slap a five.

I draw the line at roofies. How can I sell that when I have a sister? Backing away from the car with a scowl, I say, “Nah, Ruth moved.” I spit on the curb and signal LeRon so he can service these aspiring rapists with two packets of heroin and a bottle of anabolic steroids and get them out of my sight. As the car crawls further up the block, LeRon steps into the street. Meanwhile, one soldier runs off to get the product where it’s tucked behind the icebox in front of the bodega while another runs down the street to the abandoned building where the steroids are stashed.

Nestor says, “Popeye must be desperate.” Yeah, it’s not typical for ’roid users to cop on the street. Especially no White boys. Not in this neighborhood. That’s why the pills had to be fetched at the stash house like some kind of special order. “So like I was saying about GiGi, she may have that thug bug, but she a schoolgirl, too,” he continues. “Don’t you be having classes with her?”

I still don’t see what he’s getting at. “Yeah, she’s in the honors program, too.” I’m crazy about Candace, but sometimes I look at GiGi and the nasty thoughts flow. Don’t get it twisted. I would never play my girl, but I’d be lying if I said if Candace and I hadn’t met—

Nes says, “So that got me thinking that even though she got a thing for street cats, GiGi wants her man to be … you know … smart.”

I shake my head at him. “Just ’cause you’re not in school
doesn’t mean you’re not smart.” Nestor rolls his eyes at me. “Look at that dude Lefty”—I lower my voice even though no one’s in earshot—“who runs with Julian and them.”

“And that cat’s, like, twenty-three.” Nestor laughs. “All that smack about social promotion. They should’ve socially promoted Lefty’s ass out of AC in the nineties.”

“See, you’re informed, kid! How many cats grindin’ out here know what social promotion is? If GiGi wants to politick, you can hold your own.” Truth is, I can’t see GiGi talking about much of substance. She may be a schoolgirl, but that doesn’t mean she watches CNN.

Nestor’s not buying it. “C’mon, man, do me this solid, E. If my conversation gets simple, I know you’ll have my back and feed me a line or two.”

I think Nestor just wants GiGi and me in the same room so he can be sure that we’re not feeling each other. I want no part of it even if Candace is there. She might notice something between GiGi and me that’s not supposed to be there.

“I’m just asking for one meal,” says Nestor. “And let’s flip it like a coincidence. Like I take GiGi to a movie, right? That’s two hours where I don’t gotta say squat ’cept
Would you like some Junior Mints?”
I don’t know if he’s trying to make me laugh, but I snicker anyway. “Afterward, we parlay about the movie in the cab on the way to the restaurant. Just when that conversation runs out of steam, we get there, and, oh, snap!” Nestor throws his hands in the air like a jack-in-the-box.
“¡Mira quien ’tá ’quí!
Efrain with his dime.
Yo, you mind if we sit with y’all?
Two plus two equals zero.”

“What?”

“Two people plus two more people equals no awkward silences.”

Until someone forgets that Candace thinks Efrain works
at Jimmy Jazz. “Nah, man. Can’t do it.” Sometimes silence
is
golden.

“Why, Efrain?” Nestor’s mad now, and he doesn’t rile up easily. “Just tell me why you can’t do me this favor.”

“Nestor?” This chick with fading blond streaks of stringy hair runs toward us. “Hook me up with sugar stick.” I recognize her as one of the prostitutes that work the area. On the street, selling her body, hooked on heroin. Seventeen just like me. I can’t stand to look at her, and I’m happy that she isn’t trying to cop from me.

“No can do, ma,” says Nestor as he eyes her empty hand. “You want to buy on credit, take your ass to Julian.” The girl curses him and crosses the street. That’s when Nestor notices my face and says, “Candace still doesn’t know how you make your skrill, does she?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “You be out here day in and day out, E., grinding right beside me, keeping it from your moms and your girlfriend, but you’re ashamed of me. Whatever, man.” Nestor starts to walk away from me.

“C’mon, bro—”

“Save it,” he yells over his shoulder. Then he crosses the boulevard to I-don’t-know-where. I doubt Nestor knows where he’s headed either.

Elucidate
(
v
.) to clarify, explain

“Y’all just came from the movies?” I ask as if I don’t already know. “What did y’all go see?”

“Evacuation,”
says Nestor as he pulls out GiGi’s seat. “You gotta see it. The effects were sick, bro!”

“That’s the one where Will Smith plays the president, right?” I say. “We’ve been wanting to check out that joint.”

GiGi shrugs. “The story wasn’t realistic.”

“What?” yells Nestor in disbelief. “See, these terrorists—not from the Middle East on some yee-had or whatever, but these White dudes, American citizens—”

“They’re planning multiple attacks on major cities all across the country for the same exact time,” GiGi continues. “So all these people are going to die ’cause these big cities don’t have adequate evacuation plans or whatever for that kind of disaster.”

In the softest voice ever, Candace says, “Sounds realistic to me.” I reach over and place my hand on her knee.

Oblivious, GiGi rolls her eyes at Candace. “If you live in a big ol’ city, just take your ass to the suburbs. Plenty of room up there.” Nestor and I look at each other, both of us scrambling for the right way to intervene. Then she says, “And I don’t think Hollywood should be making movies about terrorist attacks on New York City anyway.”

Nestor says, “Ma, it’s just a movie. Entertainment.” He puts his hand over GiGi’s, but she snatches it away.

“Nine-eleven wasn’t all that long ago,” she says, wagging her finger at him. “Three thousand people died. Making ‘entertainment’ out of that is mad disrespectful!”

We fall into that awkward silence Nestor was so desperate to avoid. Then Candace says, “I agree. It’s too soon.” Then GiGi finally remembers where Candace is from. As her face softens with embarrassment and sympathy, GiGi never looked prettier to me.

But now it’s Nestor’s turn to be oblivious. “Will Smith is the man, yo!” he shouts. “That’s my nigga right there.”

GiGi whirls in her seat and punches him in the arm.
“¡Estúpido!”

“Ouch!” And in case he missed the point, GiGi hits him again. “Damn, girl, what’s up with the sudden outbreak of violence?”

“¿Cómo tú vas a usar esa palabra enfrente de ella?”

“Thank you,” I add. It’s one thing to use that word while chopping it up with LeRon and them on the street, but how’s he going to drop it in front of Candace?

Nestor finally gets it. He says, “I’m sorry, Candace. I didn’t mean no offense.”

Candace just smiles. “I used to say it as if I needed it like the air I breathe. You couldn’t tell me I had no right. But then, after Katrina, it seemed so petty, even stupid, to defend it. That’s no right worth fighting for.” I put my arm around Candace.

Nestor asks, “If you don’t mind my asking, how’d you get out?”

“Yeah, is your family okay?” asks GiGi.

“Yeah, we all got out. I mean, we were separated for a few weeks, but we’re all together here.”

GiGi makes the sign of the cross.
“Gracias a Dios.”
The waitress comes over with the
pilón
of
mofongo
for Candace and me to share, and Nestor and GiGi order the breaded steak for him and a bowl of
sancocho
for her. We also order a round of Cokes and some water. “But how did you find each other with all that chaos?”
asks GiGi. “Is it true what they said about people refusing to evacuate?”

Nestor says, “On the news, they showed bodies floating in the water.”

“That’s disgusting!”

“But it’s true!”

“Chill out!” I yell. All heads in the restaurant turn toward our table, but I don’t give a shit. I understand Nestor and GiGi’s curiosity because I have a thousand and one questions myself, but how’re they going to come at my girl like that? “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, ma,” I say. And as much as I want to know, I mean it.

Candace says, “It’s okay. To this day,
I
have questions, and I went through it all. It helps me to talk about it.” The waitress returns with a tray and sets the four Cokes and a pitcher of water in the middle of the table. When she leaves, Candace says, “I had snuck off to a friend’s house when the levees broke. I know.
How are you going to be hanging out with a friend when a hurricane is about to hit?
You have to understand. We lived through these hurricanes year after year. We’ve survived so many of them. They pressured us to evacuate for Ivan in oh-four, and that turned out to be a false alarm.”

“But isn’t it better to be safe than sorry?” asks GiGi.

“Sure, if you have money or own a car. If nobody in your family is old or sick. If you have people elsewhere who can take you in. But most of us in the South couldn’t evacuate if we wanted to. The only
if
we could afford is
What if the safest thing to do is stay?

“So I decided to stay at my friend’s house until the hurricane blew over. I was trying to call my mother so she would know I was okay, but I couldn’t get through. Then I heard this banging in the street. When I ran to the window, I saw this garbage can bouncing down the block like a rock skipping across a lake. A pipe
must’ve burst because the water in the street was bubbling and steaming like a witch’s cauldron, and I could smell the salt in the rain that was pounding against the window. I even reached out to touch the water and taste it. That’s when it hit me: the river was coming. This time we should’ve left.