Down to the Bone

by Mayra Lazara Dole

  “You’re probably right. I’m telling Tazer the truth about Marlena and asking him to introduce me to his lesbian girlfriends.” I hope this makes Soli shut her trap. “Maybe my heart will beat out of control like it’s having an orgasm when I meet one of his friends.” I smile big.

  “Way to go, Shyly! I can’t wait till Tazer gets here.” She’s all jumpy and happy like a kid at a party.

  “Hold up. Don’t go blabbing about my personal life to Tazer till I’m ready to tell him. Okay?”

  Her smile falls away. She yells to Diego again. “Git your sweet A over here, boy!” It’s his day off from DJ’ing and he wants to chill with his boys. He’s a good one for her to control. Diego’s got a soft spot for Soli, and that spot sure isn’t his ding-dong! I know they won’t last. She can dominate him, easily.

  Diego strolls over with a lesbo vacation pamphlet in his hands, drops with a plop on the chair next to Soli’s, and leafs through it. Soli says he’s the silent type addicted to reading anything he can find.

  Soli plunks on his lap. “Hey, check it out!” She grabs the pamphlet from his hands. “A lesbian cruise ship! For you and any girl in here, Shyly.” She jams it into my face.

  I swat it away. “Shut up, already.”

  Diego wraps both muscular arms around Soli’s waist and kisses her earlobe. “Let ’er be, bird.” She shrugs her shoulders and leans back into Diego’s strong body.

  “Go ask her to dance before Tazer arrives. You’ve got to try out a bunch of other girls before he introduces you to one.” She told Diego about Marlena and me. He didn’t give a flying porcupine.

  Soli is pointing to a dark voluptuous girl sitting alone. She has hair like mine: multicolored streaks from the sun, straight, and down to the middle of her back. Soli knows I like feminine girls with meat on their bones. Although I’m slender due to paternal genes, I’m not interested in anyone who talks all day about low-carb diets and is obsessed with losing weight. Instead, I get a kick out of girls who love to chow down, like that they’re bulky, and who eat voraciously with gusto.

  Diego gently kisses the back of her neck. “Chill, Soli. You’re crimpin’ my nerves.” He smiles and winks at me. I smile back. I like Diego; we get each other. Soli leans back, stretches her arms above her head, finds the tips of his hair, and plays with them. Diego’s and Soli’s cheeks meet as she rests the back of her head on the curve of his neck.

  A tall, thin guy, with a slight hook nose, mildly acne-scarred cheek, and long, black wavy hair, wearing tight jeans with an open vest, comes over to us. “Hey, what’s shaking?” He greets Soli with a kiss. Soli tells us he’s a straight haircutter whose name is Francisco but everyone calls him London. He explains, “In eighth grade I was chosen as one of two kids who got a free trip to England. After I came back, everyone had nicknamed me London and it stuck.” He’s into music and politics, works with her, and comes here with his bi girl cousin on weekends to dance. They talk awhile as he takes a swig of a strawberry colored drink. He asks all of us, “It’s a luscious lez, want one?”

  Soli jumps in. “Diego and I are all set.” She juts her nose in my direction. “Shai’s the one who needs a luscious lez, but she only drinks stuff like lemonade.” I know what she’s trying to say, but I hope he doesn’t catch on.

  Before I can say, “No thanks,” he calls the waitress over. “One lemonade, please.” His smile radiates. “So, what’s happening in this corner of the world?” he asks me. I feel myself blushing. I place my feet on the floor and smile shyly.

  Soli tugs at her nose ring and scrunches up her nose. “She’s a nerd. Look at her.” They scrutinize me. “She’s scared of lesbians in gay clubs.”

  Soli grabs my hand and Mr. Luscious Lez grabs my other hand, and they pull me to the dance floor. Diego goes to talk with the DJ. The waitress finds us and hands me the lemonade. She tells London, “It’s on the house.” He thanks her. I take a swig and it tastes damn good. Dancing next to me, Soli whispers into my ear, “He’s amazing to work with. He’s cool with everyone being gay.”

  “Maybe I’ll go out with him.” I’m open for experimentation, now that the Betrayer doesn’t give a royal toad’s turd about me.

  “You come to a club filled with beautiful girls and you want to be with a guy?” Soli stares me up and down. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “You’re what’s wrong with me. You want me to forget Betrayer, right? Well?” I just want to be left alone to do what I want without Soli in my face.

  I take another swig and before you know it, the glass is empty. Mr. Luscious Lez takes my glass and places it on the bar. He comes back with arms up in the air, twirling around me. I dance really close to him and we start a body-to-body slide-and-grind.

  “I didn’t know Soli had such beautiful friends,” he says over the thump-thumping music.

  I grab the very ends of my hair. He closes his dreamy dark eyes, and I brush his closed lids softly with my hair.

  The acne scar on his right cheek pops out when he grins. “You’re not gay, right?”

  I move away from him and twirl around him twice. I think about it for a minute, then say, “Right.” I guess it’s just a matter of semantics. If he had asked, “You’ve never been in love with a girl, right?” then that would be a different story. I’m not lying, so I don’t feel bad.

  “Cool.”

  Soli’s suddenly in my face, poking fun at a sixties-style dance a friend’s grandmother taught us, acting as if she were swimming, holding her nose, wiggling down as if going underwater. She doesn’t let me get into dancing with London. I whisper sharply into her ear, “I know what you’re doing. Get out of my face so I can get to know him better.”

  She dances way up closer to me. I gently push her away. “Snap, Soli, you’re such a major pain.”

  I take London’s hand and start doing super wild go-go dances from a seventies rerun I learned. The girls create a circle around us and clap loudly. I’m moving really sexy, causing a commotion, feeling pretty damned popular.

  London’s eyes say it all. After the crowd disperses, we dance three straight songs.

  He plants a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

  Soli twirls around me until he brings me another lemonade.

  He hands me the drink. “For the prettiest and sexiest mover around.” He takes me by surprise and smacks me a kiss on my lips. Suddenly our mouths lock. He makes out with me more intensely, and I swiftly remove my face from his. Kissing him isn’t delicious; it feels nothing like it did with Marlena. I made out with two other guys before Marlena, but no one compares to her. I miss our deep, smooth, sensual kissing more than ever, but I say zip and just smile.

  I gulp the lemonade down fast, to wipe the taste of his kiss off my mouth. I want to just be friends. I’m over the experiment.

  Now everything around me is whirling in slow motion. I can’t seem to stay on my feet. Soli grabs the glass from my hands and holds me up. “What’s wrong with you? You can’t be drunk.” She sniffs the glass. “There’s no alcohol in here.” She hands the glass to London. “Is this really lemonade?”

  He lifts his broad eyebrows, and it makes his nose and scar seem fascinating. “I hope so. Jon Espada is bartending tonight. He’s giving me free drinks.”

  Soli’s eyes widen. “Jon? You know he’s hard core into Ecstasy.” She looks toward a husky, muscular guy who’s grinning. She turns to London. “You asshole! We should have a choice whether we want to do X or not.”

  London explains, “But I didn’t know he was spiking the drinks.”

  “I’m not high,” I say, while acting as if waves are jerking up my right side, popping to my left, in slow motion. Things around me seem to be swirling fast. I’m one with everyone here. I love everybody and I know they love me. What a great life.

  I explode in jittery muscle moves and intricate foot shuffling that has me stumbling around. Soli catches me. “Let’s go back outside.” She pushes London aside. “Get out of my way!”

&
nbsp; “But Soli, I’m serious. I didn’t know.”

  “Move, idiot. I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

  London holds his hands up in the air with the glass in hand, as if a cop had a gun to his head. “Okay. Okay.” He walks away.

  Soli grabs my hand and pulls me to the table. The girls next to us are talking loudly about wanting to become doctors and lawyers. I lean over to Soli and whisper, “I miss Marlena sooo much.”

  She’s telling me she wants me to hook up with one of the Cubanitas when I look up and see a familiar face. “Hey, hey, hey, Tazer Spacer, long time no see. How’s it shakin’?” My knees are wobbly, but I act normal. “What choo doing here?”

  “Hey, chica, great to see you again. Soli asked me to come.” He smacks a kiss on the top of my head and leaves a fresh mint scent around me. Suddenly, my lips tingle, and I have an urge to kiss him.

  “You’re adorable!” I look him over once, then twice. Tazer really is beyond handsome.

  He hugs Soli and shakes Diego’s hand as he’s introduced. I try to stand and feel woozy. My arms feel like Jell-O and I plunk down on the seat. “What’s the scoop, Taze? You in a Daze?” My words come out funny.

  Tazer wraps his arms around me for a powerful hug. He fixes his suspenders and punches Soli in the shoulder. “She’s slamming cute.”

  I stare at him. He looks stylish with baggy dark brown pants, a tight chocolate-colored shirt, and brown and white two-tone fifties-style shoes. I can’t take my eyes off his suspenders.

  Tazer talks about how he’s excited that his dad hired Marco again to do more landscaping. “Marco came over last week for another estimate. We’ll be able to see each other every day for a few weeks, Shai.” The conversation spins around to the club. “I love this place; it’s got the best music in town. And lots of hot babes, too.”

  Diego beams. “I’m one of the part-time DJ’s and hold Poetry Night here on Tuesdays at eight. Come check us out.”

  “Definitely.” I stare at Tazer’s pinstriped bangs as they talk about music, lyrics, poems and scripts. The lines are turning blurry on me.

  Tazer snaps his fingers in front of my face. “You look weird. What’s up?”

  Soli explains, “Some ignorant I work with let his friend put an X or two in her lemonade without telling us about it first.” The sides of her mouth droop. “She’s really stoned out of her mind.”

  “No way I’m stoned!” I trumpet and everyone’s eyes zoom in on me.

  “Where’s the guy?” Tazer barks.

  “Forget it,” Diego scolds. “Pick a fight here, and your ass’ll be in the slammer.”

  “I’m not a fighter. I was just going to put him straight.”

  “Come on.” I grab Tazer’s hand. “Let’s dance!” I pull him with me to the dance floor.

  Tazer undulates around me with fists in the air. He’s a creative dancer with slick body moves. I dare him with elaborate upper body movements. He follows with feet shuffling.

  I grab his arm. “Let’s go to the ocean, now.” I feel all sparkly inside. Feels damn gooooood to not have to worry about fears or my mom’s homophobia!

  “Now?”

  “Yeah, so we can swim with the sharks.” I trip over someone and almost fall.

  Tazer picks me up in his strong arms and carries me to our table. I hold on to him by his neck as he sits. I end up on his lap. Out of nowhere, tears pour out of me and I can’t hold them back.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The Betrayer . . . my ex, Mar . . . Mar . . . Mario, the love of my life. The Betrayer is getting married today.” I’m wetting his neck with my tears.

  “I’m so sorry, Shai. It’ll be okay.” He gently caresses my hair.

  “Help me forget, please . . .”

  He holds me tightly and out of nowhere, his touch makes me quiver all over, as if every cell of my body is exploding.

  “I promise. I will. I’ll help you, Shai. Don’t worry.”

  Soli and Diego come back and see me curled up on Tazer’s lap.

  “She’ll be fine,” Soli says. “The X will wear off soon. She’s just getting over someone.”

  “Betrayer. Betrayer . . .” I repeat.

  “She needs to get out of this loud smoky place,” Tazer insists. “I’m driving her home.”

  He helps me stand up. Soli takes me by one arm and Tazer by the other. Diego walks next to us, reciting a poem supposed to make me feel better: “Livin’ in Shakespeare’s fool paradise, a state of happiness based on false hope . . .”

  I kiss Soli’s shoulder. “You’re my best friend. I love you more than all the leaves in the world and all the grains of sand.”

  She pushes my hair back away from my forehead. “Me too, Shyly. You’ll be all right.”

  Tazer kisses Soli and shakes Diego’s hand goodbye and they go back into the club.

  My stomach feels as if I swallowed a puddle of slime. Rick is having sex with Marlena now. He’s touching all the sacred places that used to belong only to me. She used to say we’d be together forever. “Forever is such a lie,” I say out loud.

  I plop in the passenger seat and just when Tazer starts the engine, I throw my head out the window and puke chunks of dinner. “I miss my little bro. Take me to see Pedri. Take me now.”

  “It’s too late, Shai.” He gets a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes my mouth. He reaches for his shoulder bag and plucks a bottle of water and makes me drink it all.

  I guzzle it down and feel better.

  We’re driving back. The buzz buzzing in my ears sounds like angry wasps. I slide off the ring Betrayer gave me that I haven’t been able to let go of, and throw it out the window as far as I possibly can. “Screw you!” I yell into the balmy night, remembering that Marlena probably already said, “I do,” to Rick the Dick.

  12—Act Natural!

  Yesterday was brutal. Today I had to work at Tazer’s three-story villa again and act happy. Marco left for the week to go to Betrayer’s wedding.

  The morning was in my face like slime and I couldn’t wipe it off. I started the day in a sweaty daze, ready to dig holes and stick plants inside, as hard and as fast as I could. And I did. I focused so intensely I barely spoke a word to anyone, except to Tazer for a minute during our break. He had to leave and couldn’t stay talking.

  I’m beginning to understand people who steal. I bet they’re feeling frail and alone. They’ve had folks they’ve deeply loved and trusted turn their backs on them over and over again. They’ll do anything to fill up the black hole inside them that keeps getting bigger with every betrayal.

  I hope I don’t become a jaded thief.

  Luckily, I’ve promised to make myself feel better by trying to concentrate only on the good.

  All day I’ve been melancholy and only focusing on my losses. It’s not as if I didn’t have a happy childhood with parents who adored me. Maybe I should start bringing forth those memories to keep my mind occupied.

  Last night, I forced myself to think funny things to avoid sobbing myself to sleep. Like when the only gringo family in our entire community moved next door to us from a small town in Ohio. Just for fun, I taught them wrong Spanish. I translated English sentences with common, funny, Cuban bad words. Instead of “Good morning, how are you today?” they naively learned to say, “My butt itches bad,” and silly things of that nature. Mami thought it was hilarious. Instead of making me apologize, she texted and e-mailed all her friends about it. She loved me once. She really did.

  I need to remember to keep going to the great times in my life because they somehow soothe me. Sometimes, they make me sadder though, and have me missing my family even more. But it’s good to recall that you were once loved.

  Now, I dash indoors from work, vigorously pet Neruda and give her tons of smooches. “Skooti-Bootie, I’ve missed you so much!” She slobbers all over my face. Her tail swings fast as a windshield wiper, making her whole backside twist from side to side.

  Viva runs behind me with a
mop in hand. “¡Dios mío! ¡Ave María! Take off the muddy shoes!” I hand them to her and walk around with socks. “I is gonna give Neruda a bath. Then,” she insists, “I will boil your shoes.”

  I walk into the bathroom, peel off my grimy clothes, throw them on the floor, and jump in the shower. “Okay!” I yell to her. “Boil my shoes, add ketchup to them and we’ll have ’em for dinner. What the heck, we only live once!”

  She lets out a sweet, musical laugh.

  “Soli no cook today. She go to a boy’s crib after work,” she states from outside the bathroom door.

  “Crib?” I laugh to myself. She picked up the lingo Soli and I sometimes use for fun.

  She goes on. “All Soli Luna thinks about is boys, boys, boys!”

  If Viva really knew the truth about Soli’s crushes on guys, and how she’s dated all of Miami, she’d have a coronary and croak. Back in Viva’s time, seeing more than one boy at a time meant you were a ho, especially when men like Viva’s grandfather, nicknamed Casanova, was famous for having a roving eye. Viva won’t even go out with another man just so she’ll keep the memory of her dead hubby alive. Soli is the modern day Casanova, and obviously inherited her sexiness from her favorite great-grandfather’s genes (que en pas descanse/may he rest in peace).

  “Don’t worry! I’ll cook!” I boom from a stream of water pouring over me.

  I learned to cook from my mom. When I was a kid she allowed me to help her in the kitchen.

  Mami would poke the stewed chicken (or whatever she was making) with her index finger and lick it to check if it was done. She’d go from picking veggies in the fridge, to the range, to checking pots and pans. She let me taste everything with a spoon and asked what the concoction needed. “Do you think we should add more salt and oregano,” she’d say. After learning all the spices, I’d come out with incredible suggestions, things like, “Add cinnamon and ginger to the meat, Mami. That’ll make it yummier.” She’d go with whatever I said. In the end, the meals were a success, and she’d rave to my family and neighbors about my cooking. She made me feel so proud and accomplished.