Bronxwood

by Coe Booth

  “Bueno, Tyrell.”

  That’s all he say, then he walk away from my DJ table and go ’round the room talking in Spanish to everybody else that’s fixing up the room.

  I put on some music to test the sound out. My speakers sound like shit. Me and Patrick gotta adjust a lot of levels to try and make it sound halfway decent.

  The party s’posed to start at 8:00, and I swear, them kids start coming in, like, 8:01. It’s just like the parties my pops throw. Them people act like they never been out before. I know a lot of these kids from school but not everybody. And course I never seen none of them all dressed up like this. Patrick eyes almost fall outta his head checking out the girls. I don’t blame him though. Jasmine got some bangin’ friends.

  I put my headphones on. Time to make this happen.

  A half hour later and I can’t believe I’m actually doing this, playing this kinda music. I’m getting into it too. Something ’bout the beat just keep my energy up. I’m talking on the mic and making people feel good. Having fun. Shit, I could probably get good at this and do more salsa parties.

  Emiliano is walking ’round acting like he in charge, but the second he turn his back, I can see that some kids in the back of the room smuggled in bottles of vodka or something and they passing it ’round. They could pass a little this way too.

  Everything working out alright, but I’m waiting for Jasmine to get there. I wanna see her. I gotta be honest, I can’t stop thinking ’bout yesterday, everything ’bout it just been going ’round and ’round in my mind all night and day.

  But I still need to look her in the eye and see if she really got feelings for me. ’Cause, yeah, I’m confused as hell ’bout what happened. What’s that s’posed to mean for us? That we not just friends no more? That we together?

  Finally, ’bout ten, fifteen minutes later, Emiliano come over to my table and tell me Jasmine ready to come in. He got a video camera in his hands and everything. I turn the music down to low and get on the mic. “Alright, everybody. I need y’all to turn and face the doors, and put your hands together for our very special, beautiful Sweet Sixteen girl.”

  Everybody do what I say and when the doors open up I put the song on that Emiliano told me to play, something called “Esta Es Mi Noche,” and she come into the room looking so goddamn sexy in this long, light purple dress that fit her body tight in all the right places. My mouth probably hanging open, but I can’t help it. I ain’t never seen her looking like this, with all that makeup on and her hair curled. Man, my mind go right there, to trying to figure out a way to get that dress off her, to see what’s under all that. She look hot, yeah, but I just wanna mess her up a little bit.

  She walk into the room looking kinda nervous, which ain’t like her. At school she love walking into a room with a whole bunch of people there. She do it like she the one everybody waiting for. But now, I don’t know if it’s just that there’s, like, a hundred-something people here, or just that this place all big and Emil standing in the middle of the room videotaping everything, but she ain’t acting like herself.

  Some girl I never seen before come up to the table and practically snatch the mic outta my hand. She tall and pretty, but by the look in her eyes, I can tell she high on something. “Happy Birthday, Jasmine!” she yell so loud she don’t even need to be holding the mic. “Now let’s get wild, girl!”

  I turn up the volume on the song and Jasmine and this girl and some other females all dance ’round in a circle, singing loud and laughing. Patrick lean over and say, “What you wanna play next?” but I’m not even listening to him. I’m watching Jasmine. She look like she having more fun, or least trying to have more fun. But I don’t get why she ain’t relaxing when she know everybody here and it’s the party she been waiting for all summer.

  Patrick cue up a song for me, something else Emil had on his list, and I mix into it hardly paying attention to what I’m doing. I’m still looking at her, but the thing is, I don’t think she even look my way one time. It’s weird but, okay, she just got here. We got time.

  Three, four songs later, the party really taking off. Jasmine is still dancing and Emil still standing there videotaping her. Not nobody else at the party. Just her.

  I swear, I ain’t never gonna understand that dude. I know he spent a lot of money on this party and he wanna get it on video, but ain’t Jasmine gonna wanna see the other people at her party except herself? Emiliano got real problems.

  After a while, I can’t take it no more. Jasmine been dancing and saying hi to people, hugging them and shit, but she still ain’t come over to me yet. It’s like she don’t even know I’m there, even though I been talking on the mic and everything.

  I gotta change shit up. Slow it down. Make a move.

  I slap on some slow Marc Anthony song, something I know girls like, leave from behind the DJ table, and cut through everybody to get to Jasmine. I slip my arm ’round her waist real smooth and pull her real close to me. For a couple seconds I ain’t sure if this is what she want, but then she wrap her arms ’round me and we start moving together to the beat. It don’t take long for the whole floor to be filled up with couples.

  For a while, me and her is dancing without even saying anything. For me, it just feel good to hold her again. Having her body next to mines like this make me remember everything that happened yesterday, and with the way she look and smell tonight, I’m just wanting more of what she gave me.

  Out the corner of my eye, I look to see if Emiliano is still videotaping, but he ain’t. He over by the food tables helping the caterers set up the hot food. Good. He busy.

  “Jasmine,” I say, trying to whisper but be louder than the music, “I wanna … You think we could go someplace, just me and you, and spend some time together?” The way she pressed up against me and moving her hips to the beat, all I’m thinking ’bout is putting it in her.

  “Ty,” she say, still not really looking me in the eye. She making it real hard to read her. “I can’t.”

  I take her face in both my hands and make her look up at me. “Why not?”

  “It’s my party,” she say, and look down again. “And Emil—” She look over at him real fast. “If I leave, he’s gonna come looking for me.”

  This ain’t what I wanna hear. “Where his girlfriend at anyway?”

  “Him and Ana broke up last week.”

  “He look like he don’t got nothing to do with hisself.”

  Jasmine shrug and rest her head on my shoulder and we finish the song. I wanted to be with her and talk, find out what’s going on with her and with us. But dancing with her, with my arms ’round her, this alright too. If this is all I can get.

  Patrick take over for me and play something else when Marc Anthony done. And since I don’t want Emiliano thinking me and Jasmine is more than friends, I let her go. She give me a little smile, then turn and dance with some other guy I kinda know from school. And now I gotta walk by myself through all them couples slow dancing and kissing and shit.

  I’m just ’bout back to the DJ table when I see her come into the room. Reyna. Jasmine sister. And straight up, girl looking busted.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Damn, I don’t know where this girl been, but she look like she been through a lot of shit since the last time I seen her. Actually, I only seen her one day, when her and Jasmine first came to the shelter in January. Back then, she looked alright. Kinda hot.

  Now she standing here looking damn-near crackhead skinny, wearing a short, thin, almost see-through skirt, a black T-shirt, and sandals with her toes hanging over the front of them.

  She tore up.

  It take Jasmine only, like, a minute to notice her there, and even then it’s like Jasmine look like she ain’t really sure that’s her. But then Jasmine fly ’cross the room all excited, and her and Reyna hug for a real long time.

  Jasmine so happy, even I start to feel better. Maybe she ain’t wanna be with me ’cause she was upset that Reyna wasn’t here. Maybe it ain’t had noth
ing to do with me.

  Just to pick things up, I put on some fast salsa and put some hip-hop beats underneath it. More kids start dancing and the floor is full, everybody having fun, so I keep doing my thing, mixing they music with my old-skool shit, showing off my skills.

  Meanwhile, Jasmine and Reyna is now in the corner of the room, standing up and talking. The music is loud and I know they having a hard time hearing each other so they talking real close. I gotta say, I’m glad Reyna showed up no matter how she look.

  I play a couple songs, then Emiliano come over to my table again and say, “It’s time for Jasmine, she needs to open her …”

  “Presents?” I ask, ’cause I ain’t got all day to wait for him to find the right word. “Yes. Presents.”

  I know what he trying to do, but at the same time, he paying me to do what he want. Still, I wait a while, ’til the song through, so Jasmine and Reyna could get more time to talk.

  Then I get on the mic and tell everyone to go over to the other side of the room where all the presents is set up, where they got a chair waiting for Jasmine to sit in. Then I put on the song they told me to play real low while she open her gifts. It take Jasmine a little while to leave Reyna side, but everybody waiting for her and she don’t got no choice.

  Next thing I know, the same girl that snatched the mic out my hand at the beginning of the party come back over and take the mic again. This time she pull it as far away from the table as it would go and as Jasmine open the boxes, this girl read the card and tell everybody who it’s from. She taking over my job.

  Jasmine get some nice shit too. Somebody give her one of them expensive leather bags girls be going crazy for, and she get silver bracelets, perfume, and a whole bunch of gift cards. She do alright.

  So much is going on, it take me a while to see that Emiliano ain’t over there no more. He in the corner now talking to Reyna, and by the way they look, it’s hard to tell them two used to be together. Emiliano look pissed and Reyna look like she don’t wanna hear whatever the fuck he saying. And both they faces is dead serious.

  I don’t know if he see me staring at them, but next thing I know Emiliano is taking Reyna into this little room that look like either a big closet or a little storage room, and he close the door behind him. What the fuck they doing?

  Since Jasmine still opening her presents, I keep looping the song ’round and keep one eye on the door. They only in there, like, two minutes, then they come out. Reyna don’t look all that mad, but she head straight for the door and she gone. Just like that. Without even saying bye to Jasmine or nothing.

  I’m like, did Emiliano tell her she had to go, that he ain’t want her here at the party? Or did he just tell her something that pissed her off enough that she wanted to get up outta here? And why she couldn’t say something to Jasmine first? She know how hard Jasmine looked for her just to get her ass here.

  When Jasmine through with the presents, and I get my mic back from that girl, I turn the music back up loud, and tell everyone to have fun and eat some more food. Before I get the word “food” out my mouth all the way, Patrick just stop what he doing and head straight for that table. And he cut right in front of a group of girls too.

  I shake my head and go back to what I’m doing.

  “Ty, did you see where Reyna went?” Jasmine ask, leaning over the table. “She was right over there.”

  Why I gotta be the one to tell her the bad news? “She left,” I say. “I don’t know—”

  “She’s gone?” Jasmine eyes open wide and they already full of tears. “Why would she do that? She should of told me if she—”

  “C’mon, Jasmine,” I say. She can’t do this again. Not here. Not now. “This your party. You gotta hold it together and have fun for everybody here. All your friends is here and, look, they having a good time.”

  Jasmine nod a couple times.

  “And least you know Reyna a’ight. You don’t gotta worry ’bout her no more. She okay.”

  What I’m saying don’t really work ’cause she crying. Just standing here by my table like a little kid. I’m ’bout to come ’round to her side and put her in my arms again, when the same girl that keep using my mic come up to her, give her a hug, then take her to a table in the back of the room.

  Patrick come back with plates for both of us with all kinds of good Spanish food. He put everything on one plate, chicken and rice with beans, plantains, fried shrimp, some kind of roast beef with vegetables, a cake that look mad sweet with, like, five, six layers or something, and a little cup of something that look like rice pudding, but I ain’t sure.

  Don’t matter neither. I start eating, and I’m so into the food that after a while the music actually stop. It’s like dead quiet in there.

  I drop the shrimp I’m eating and hurry up to find something to put on. Everybody is stopped dancing and they looking at me like, what up? I throw a song on and get on the mic and say, “Hey, y’all, don’t blame me. Blame whoever made this food. Damn.”

  All the kids laugh and then they start dancing again. And I start eating again.

  “Look at that girl over there,” Patrick go, all excited. “That’s my type.” He actually pointing his finger at some girl in a short, gray dress.

  That girl is everybody type, for real. “Calm down,” I tell him. “Wait a couple minutes, then go over there and ask her if she wanna dance.”

  Patrick kinda rock back and forth, like he trying to rev hisself up or something.

  “I said calm down. I’ma put on some nice smooth shit for y’all to dance to.”

  Patrick start mumbling to hisself like he practicing what he gonna say. Finally, I tell him to go over there and make his move. And while he on his way, I put my headphones on and mix this Spanish song in with this vinyl record from back in the day called “Silent Morning,” the instrumental version. When both them songs is playing at the same time, my opinion, it’s gonna make that girl wanna dance with whoever ask her, ’cause she gonna feel like shaking her ass out there.

  I watch Patrick do his thing and he definitely ain’t no smooth brotha, but least he trying. Gotta say, he is stiff though, and his face look like he need to go take a dump. The girl must feel sorry for him or something ’cause next thing I know they on the floor dancing. I’m laughing when I get on the mic and say, “One point for Patrick.” He look over and shake his head.

  Jasmine still sitting at that table in the back and now I see what she been doing all this time. I see her pouring vodka in her plastic cup and drinking it down in one swallow. All the kids ’round her is doing the same thing, just drinking and laughing and acting stupid. The worst one is that girl that brung her over there to that table. It’s like she pushing Jasmine to drink more. Least that’s the way it look from here.

  Then they get up and Jasmine is dancing and singing with that girl and spinning ’round in a circle like they trying to make theyself dizzy. I gotta say, Jasmine look like she finally having fun, but I don’t think she gonna remember none of it tomorrow.

  Emiliano is watching them, but he ain’t videotaping and he don’t look happy that Jasmine this outta control. But he don’t do nothing. He just let her keep doing what she doing.

  Patrick come walking back to the table. “What happened?” I ask him. “You got her digits?”

  He shake his head. “Nah. She said she a lesbian, but I know what that mean.”

  “Maybe she is.”

  “I hear that shit all the time, Ty. C’mon, not every girl in the Bronx can be a lesbian.” I laugh. He do got a point.

  A while later Jasmine and the girl is only getting more and more crazy. Now they ain’t just dancing by theyself. Them two girls is dancing with guys and grinding on them and shit. I ain’t never seen Jasmine like this before. Yeah, I know she upset that Reyna left, but I never even knew she liked to drink. When we was living in that shelter, she would always get mad when I got drunk or high. She would tell me I was stupid for doing that shit.

  So it ain’t easy wa
tching her like this. I’m happy when it’s time to end this party. We only got the community center ’til 3:00, so ’bout 2:20 I turn the music down a little bit and get on the mic to tell everybody we gonna hafta go soon. Jasmine come over to the table and say, “Ty! Did you have a good time because I did. Did you?” She smiling all stupid.

  “Yeah, it was good.”

  “I know!” She come ’round on my side of the table and wrap her arms ’round my neck real hard and hug me. Girl is a hundred percent fucked up.

  Then her friend come up behind Jasmine. She giggling for no reason. “This is Tyrell?” she ask, looking me up and down with them drunk, half-closed eyes. “He the one you were telling me about?”

  Jasmine cover her mouth. “Yesenia!”

  Yesenia smile at me and say to Jasmine, “He’s cute.”

  Jasmine try to change the subject. She introduce me and Yesenia, who I find out is Emiliano niece. “She’s from Connecticut. Remember I was telling you about her?”

  “Yeah,” I say, and nod even though I don’t remember shit.

  “We gotta go,” Yesenia say. “Nice meeting you, Tyrell.” She giggle again and pull Jasmine away. Jasmine wave to me as she go.

  Even as Jasmine hugging everybody bye, I play one last song for the kids that ain’t ready for the night to be over yet. Patrick start packing up the albums and everything. Finally, Emil come over and hand me a envelope that’s nice and fat. “You are very good, Tyrell.” “Thanks,” I say.

  When he gone, I turn away from the kids that’s still dancing and count out the money. Seven hundred dollars. He gave me a hundred-dollar tip.

  SUNDAY, AUGUST 17

  TWENTY-NINE

  I get up mad late, still tired from that crazy party. I swear, Sweet Sixteens is getting outta control. Them girls be acting like it’s the last party they ever gonna get. But it’s Jasmine that kinda surprised me. I definitely ain’t expect her to be like that last night.