“Stop! Stop!” Chucho shouted. “He’s only a kid. Please, please.” The policeman kept swinging his nightstick at Manuel.
“Hey, leave me alone. Stop, hey!” Manuel cried out, trying to duck the blows of the nightstick.
The second policeman leaped toward the first policeman and grabbed the nightstick. “Ned! Take it easy, for God’s sake, Ned!” he shouted. “Hold it! Christ! Come on, hold it now.”
“Manuel! Manuel!” Chucho yelled and grabbed his brother, who was crying and wiping his face. His eyes, nose, mouth and hair were full of blood. Manuel coughed and cried, clinging to Chucho.
The policeman had stopped using his nightstick and both men stood by, motionless, watching the two boys. Nilda had heard loud screams; only now, as she cried quietly, feeling the hoarseness in her throat, did she realize that it was she who had been screaming.
People started to appear; windows opened and some cars stopped to see what was going on. They gathered by the two boys and the policemen, asking questions. “What’s happening? Look at that boy! He’s bleeding.” “¿Qué pasa aquí?” “Must be a fight. Officer? What happened?” “Look at those young kids in trouble.”
“All right. Keep moving. Get outta here. Break it up,” the policemen shouted at the onlookers. “Okay now, we said beat it.”
The policemen went up to the two boys. Manuel jumped back and whimpered. He clung to Chucho, who held him and wiped the wounds with a white handkerchief. “My brother’s hurt,” he said. “We need a doctor. Look,” and he stepped back as if to show them Manuel. Manuel continued to cry, burying his face in Chucho’s chest. Both policemen looked at each other but said nothing. Chucho continued to speak. “We are members of the Pentecostal Church on Lexington Avenue and 102nd Street, La Roca de San Sebastián. We don’t believe in violence. Please,” he pleaded, “take us to the hospital; my brother’s hurt.”
Nilda watched Manuel, who cried in pain, “Ay, man, … qué dolor … it hurts, Chucho … it hurts too much help me.” Some of the blood was drying and Manuel’s face began to swell and puff up. The wind blew his soft dark hair, which was covered with red blotches.
“All right, we’ll drive you down to the emergency room at Flower Fifth, but next time stay off the streets or it will be worse. Now, we won’t press charges, but we don’t want any crap from you. Okay?” the first policeman said.
“Please, sir!” Chucho said. “Just take us to a hospital. We don’t want no trouble.”
The second policeman looked at Nilda. “You get back home; a young girl like you should be off the streets. Where do you live?” he asked.
Nilda stared at him. “Not far; I can walk. It’s only down a few blocks, that’s all.”
“All right, now get the hell off the streets and right home before we take you in.”
“Yes,” she said, frightened, “I’ll go right home.”
The policemen went to the patrol car and opened the back door. “Get in,” the second policeman said, and looked at the brothers. “Go on, get in back; we’ll drive you down to the hospital.”
Nilda watched as Chucho almost carried Manuel to the back of the patrol car. Manuel breathed heavily and couldn’t stop crying. “Don’t worry, Manuel, we’re going to the emergency room, man, to the hospital; hold on.” The two boys disappeared into the car.
“Shit, Ned!” the second policeman said. “You oughta watch that temper.”
“Bunch of bastards anyway. Spic got what he deserved,” the first policeman said.
Most of the people had left, but a few still remained. “Hey, girlie,” a man asked, “what happened? Are they friends of yours? Did they have a fight or something?”
Nilda looked at the man. “No,” she said.
Several other persons gathered around her. “Was that kid shot?” “Was there a holdup? Hey, kid, what happened?” “Mira, nena, ¿qué pasó?” Nilda watched the patrol car as it sped downtown and out of sight, and began to walk away, heading home. “Hey, kid!” someone called out to her. She quickened her pace, not looking back, and started to run until the voices faded and she couldn’t hear anyone. She turned once to make sure that there was no one around to ask her anything, and stopped running.
As she walked briskly, she felt the blood flowing back into her limbs and had a sense of herself once more. Her legs felt ice cold, and she shivered. Reaching down, she touched her long wool stockings and realized they were wet; her panties were wet. Did I pee? she asked herself. Oh, man, I don’t remember peeing, she thought, and reached down, touching her wet stockings. Then putting her hand to her nose, she inhaled. It was cold and she couldn’t tell if it really smelled like urine. What else could it be? she reasoned, and a feeling of embarrassment and helplessness overcame her. Nilda began to cry again. What shall I tell Mamá? And what about Frankie? Where is he? Mamá will know he didn’t walk me, and Benji’s family will know. They will tell Mamá anyway, she thought, feeling wretched. This was all my stupid idea to go and walk Sylvia, she thought, angry with herself. It was dark out and each time she saw someone, she prayed silently that it be no one she knew. Let me make it home, God, please, to my building, then I’ll think of something. Nilda reached her stoop and hurried inside to the warm hallway, and over to the stairway.
“Psst, psst.” Nilda jumped back in fear. “Nilda?” She heard a whisper. “Is it you?” She recognized Frankie’s voice. “Behind the stairs; over here.” Nilda followed the voice and found herself standing in the dark next to Frankie, behind the stairway. “Listen, Nilda, when we get upstairs, tell Mamá I walked you; act natural. Okay?” He paused. “What took you so long anyway? I been waiting here forever.” He waited for an answer. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked. Nilda opened her mouth and began to cry. “Hey, shh,” he said. “What the hell’s the matter, Nilda? You hurt, man?”
“Frankie,” Nilda said, trying not to sob, “the cops, they beat up Manuel. You know, one of Benji’s brothers.”
“What?” Frankie said in disbelief. “Him? But why? Them people never do nothing.”
“They were looking for the Lightnings and the Barons and they thought that they were them.”
“Who was them?” Frankie asked. “Nilda, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Chucho and Manuel. I met them and they were walking me home.” She began to cry again.
“Come on, Nilda,” Frankie said, “tell me; what happened?”
“We were just walking, and a police car came and a policeman started to ask them about your club and the Barons, and Chucho couldn’t answer, and then Manuel tried to talk, and then the cop hit him with the nightstick. Oh, it was horrible.”
“Nilda, please stop it. Tell me what happened.”
“He was bleeding and crying and that cop kept beating him with his nightstick and—”
“Who?” interrupted Frankie.
“Manuel! I’m telling you!” she snapped.
“Shhh. Okay, okay. Go on.”
“They took them to the hospital.”
“Who took who to the hospital?”
“The cops, they finally took Chucho and Manuel to the hospital. Over to Flower Fifth emergency in their car,” she said.
“Was Manuel badly hurt?”
“He was full of blood and his face was swollen and yes … he looked awful, Frankie.… He was crying and oh … it was just …”
“Okay, now take it easy. Calm down, Nilda. Did they take your name?”
“No, they just told me to get off the streets and go home. I split fast as I could,” she said, aware once again of her wet stockings and feeling embarrassed. She hoped, at that moment, that Frankie could not smell anything.
“Good. Well, they don’t know who you are. They didn’t ask you nothing else? Are you sure, Nilda?”
“Yes, I’m sure. They only asked who I was and Chucho said a friend. That’s all.”
“Well, we gotta figure out a way not to tell Mamá.”
“How can we? Benji’s family will tell her. I
’m sure of that.”
“Maybe,” Frankie said, “but even if they do, they don’t know every detail.”
“I don’t know, Frankie,” Nilda said, shaking her head. “We better tell what …”
“Just let me think, Nilda, and do what I say.” They stood silently for a while; then Frankie spoke. “Listen, we will tell Mamá that I left you just for a moment and asked you to wait, but you was in a hurry to get back and do your homework. So, you left and met Chucho and Manuel, and then I went looking for you and found you after the cops left.”
“First of all, I did my homework with Sylvia. Remember? Second, why did the cops hit Manuel and Chucho? She’s gonna ask; you know Mamá.”
“All right, forget the homework. You don’t have to say too much. Let me talk, okay?” Nilda looked at Frankie, making a gesture of annoyance, and turned her head. “Look, Nilda. Will you let me talk?”
“Suit yourself,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.
“Maybe Mamá won’t ask anything. Go straight to your room and stay there tonight. Okay?”
Nilda thought, I better wash my stockings and panties; that’s what I better do. But she remained silent and followed Frankie up the steps and into their apartment.
Aunt Delia sat in the living room reading her paper. “Listen, Nilda?” she called out. “Come over here; I have something to show you, something important. Look, see what happened to a fourteen-year-old girl? She got attacked.”
Nilda nodded her head. Oh, damn, she thought, there she goes yelling. I hope Mamá doesn’t hear. She raised her hand, gesturing to Aunt Delia to wait.
“What? Nilda? No, listen, it’s very important. Here in the paper, look at the picture! You better listen for your own good.” Nilda walked quickly to her room, ignoring the old woman, anxious to get out of her wet stockings and underwear.
Once inside her room, she smelled the urine and began to undress rapidly, fearful that her mother might come in and see her. She put on her robe, went to the bathroom and filled up the washbasin, dumping in her wet things, and began to scrub them with soap. As she washed her things she remembered the two brothers, and especially Manuel’s crying and holding on to Chucho. Nilda began to cry again. Someone ought to tell Benji’s parents about what had happened. Maybe they don’t know, she thought. What if something worse happens to them? Nilda stood motionless; for the first time since she had left the two brothers, she worried about them. I have to tell Frankie, she said to herself, that we gotta tell Benji’s family. They are my friends; they gotta know what happened to Manuel and Chucho … they gotta! She hung everything up to dry and carefully opened the bathroom door. Quietly she went to Frankie’s room. “Frankie?” she whispered.
“Nilda? Mamá’s in her room; she’s going to sleep. She told me that she gotta get up very early to work tomorrow, before us, and that we can make breakfast ourselves. What luck, man! Whew!”
“Frankie, we gotta tell Benji’s family.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe they don’t know about it; we gotta … at least, to see if they know Manuel is hurt, and what happened to Chucho and Manuel.… It’s only that maybe—”
“They probably know, man,” Frankie interrupted. “Mind your own business!”
“What do you mean, Frankie? It is my business. I was there, right?”
“Yeah, but they didn’t say nothing to you or bother you, so why do you have to get mixed up?”
“Frankie, I gotta tell Benji’s family; you shoulda seen Manuel …” Nilda paused. “They are my friends, Frankie; we can just tell them what happened … and Mamá will understand.…”
“No!” he snapped. “Why do you wanna be a big shot? Big-mouth, why don’t you leave things right? Like they are.”
Nilda stood up angrily. “You are so stupid, Frankie. They might just be hurt … and … they don’t know … and …”
“They are probably home already, sleeping, and you are gonna bother them.” Swiftly, Nilda left the room. Frankie followed her. “Wait a minute,” he called. She continued to walk to her mother’s room and Frankie reached out, grabbed her arm and pinned her against the wall. “Lay off, Nilda,” he said. “You are gonna get me in trouble!”
Nilda stared at Frankie for a while and neither of them spoke. “Let go, Frankie,” Nilda said in a very quiet voice. “Let me go.”
Frankie released his grip. “Troublemaker, blabbermouth,” he said, and walked away.
Nilda went to her mother’s bedroom. “Mamá?” she said. “Mamá?”
Her mother was lying in bed; she turned the lights on and looked at Nilda. “What is it?” her mother asked. “You been crying? What happened, chica?”
“Mamá … something awful … Mami… just something awful.…”
June 1944
Nilda looked out of her bedroom window; the clotheslines were full of wash. The clean laundry hung limply, almost motionless; there was not a breeze. It was hot, and the sheets on her bed were wet and sticky with perspiration. Nilda had slept late; today was Saturday. Yawning, she stretched out her arms and thought about taking a cold shower. Instead, she continued to sit, looking out at a patch of bright blue sky just above the rooftop. A radio was playing music: the sound came from another apartment and traveled up the alleyway. “Say, it’s only a paper moon, shining over a cardboard sea, but it wouldn’t be make-believe, if you believed in me. Without your love … It’s a Barnum and Bailey world …”
“Umm … ummmm … um … mmmmm.…” Nilda began to hum along with the chorus as they continued to sing. The music stopped and she heard the disc jockey announcing a commercial. She put on her bathrobe and went into the kitchen, looking for her mother. “¡Mamá! ¡Mamá!” she called out, and then remembered her mother was working half-day at the defense factory today. Frankie was working at the dry-cleaning store, delivering. Nilda went to look for Aunt Delia, but her room was empty. Probably gone shopping, she said to herself. She was all alone in the apartment.
She went to the bathroom and dressed. Going back to the kitchen, Nilda started to make her own breakfast, singing, “… a paper moon, shining over a cardboard sea, but it wouldn’t be make-believe …” She began to think about camp. That was long ago, she thought, almost like make-believe. She wondered if she could ever go back to Bard Manor. Her mother had spoken to the Children’s Aid Society about it this summer and had been informed that Bard Manor Camp for Girls had been shut down for the duration of the war. This year they had decided that they would do something for the servicemen and had discontinued the camp for girls.
It had been difficult for Nilda to hide her disappointment. Her mother had tried to cheer her up. “Listen, Nilda, I’ll see if they got another nice camp for you to go to? Yes?”
“There’s no other camp like that one, Mamá; I just know it,” she had replied.
“Let it go, then. You are a señorita now, and you must help me here at home. Anyway, it’s better this way; maybe when I make the trip to see Jimmy in Lexington, Kentucky, you can come with me. How’s that? I’m saving enough, and perhaps we can go together. Maybe that lawyer won’t charge too much. Dios mío, in this country you cannot do nothing without a lawyer. We’ll see,” her mother had tried to console Nilda.
She began to eat her breakfast without much appetite; beads of perspiration gathered on her face. Maybe I can go back there when I’m grown up, she thought. And she began to see herself going back to Bard Manor. Nilda saw herself all dressed up in an outfit just like the one she had recently seen a starlet wearing in a war movie. A group of little girls, dressed in pink jumpsuits, were standing all around Nilda. I’ll tell them what it was like there when I was a kid, she said to herself, and I’ll take them to my secret garden. After all, I was the first to discover it. She saw herself walking down the familiar trail into the woods, and realized that she could not be dressed that way, with high heels and a long gown. Oh, well, I’ll wear something else … and she continued to drift, selecting the right outfit for her trip back t
o camp, when she heard a knocking. There was a heavy pounding on the door; Nilda jumped up and ran to the front door. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me—Benji!”
Opening the door, she said, “Benji? Come in.”
“Man, Nilda, where was you? I been knocking forever.”
“I was in the kitchen eating. Come on inside,” she said.
“Jacinto sent me,” he said, following Nilda to the kitchen.
“Jacinto? Why, Benji?”
“You better go and get your Aunt Delia; she’s causing such a commotion. Man, she gave Jacinto a hard time. So he told me to get your mother to come and get your aunt and bring her upstairs.”
“What happened?” asked Nilda.
“I don’t know the whole thing. I just heard her screaming when I walked in to buy something for my mother. And she was cursing out Jacinto. She left in a huff. And he told me to go up and get somebody.”
“What was she hollering about?” asked Nilda.
“Something about the numbers. You know, she said like he better take her bet because she been doing business there for a long time.”
Nilda reached into a cabinet and grabbed a key. “Okay, Benji. Let’s go.”
On the window of Jacinto’s grocery was a large white sign, and printed in bold black letters were the words:
THIS IS A RAIDED PREMISES
ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK
Order of Police Dept.
NYC Borough of Manh.
Nilda saw the sign and remembered that Jacinto had been caught before, but this time her mother had said they were really after him and had threatened to close his bodega.
Jacinto was behind a counter, waiting on a customer. He looked up and saw her. “Nilda? Where’s your mother?”
“She’s working today.”
“And Frankie?” he asked.
“He’s working at Mr. Fox’s.”
“Listen, you know your aunt is nuts. She’s causing me too much trouble,” Jacinto said, shaking his head. “She comes in here with her list of numbers. Can you imagine? With that big sign outside!” Leaving the store, Jacinto went outside and pointed to the sign. Nilda followed him and listened as he continued to speak. “If they catch me at the bolita, they close me up! They gave me already fifty dollars’ fine. I’m not a millionaire. They’re gonna be after me. They’re watching me.” Jacinto took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. “She begins to holler at me. Threatening me. If I don’t take her bet, she’s gonna report me to the police! Can you imagine? Caramba, she’s cuckoo, I tell her. It’s the police that stop me in the first place. She says she knows her rights, calls me all kinds of dirty names. I’m ashamed to hear such language; I gotta throw her out. So she leaves and threatens me! You better take her home, upstairs, keep her out of mischief.”
Nilda Page 19
