by S. W. Frank
“Stop…get out of my head!” He seethed and pound his fist to his skull until it hurt. The bastard deserved it, he told himself. He had it coming to him for what he’d done. The beatings and sexual abuse had sent the eleven year old boy over the edge. The abusive childhood broke something in his brain and eversince Freddie hadn’t been the same. The crazed eyes glazed over, his body tensed then relaxed as he breathed through it like he learned in anger management classes. Finally, he won.
Silence.
Peace.
Death beckoned.
He shoved open the door and walked swiftly down the corridor.
Ten minutes…do it…do it…do it!
* * *
CHAPTER THREE
Alfonzo Diaz waited patiently at the northwest corner of one hundred and twenty-third street. The thrill of another business transaction pulsed through his entire body. He pulled down the brim of his baseball cap and surveyed the area. The street was alive with people standing or moving past the lit shops along the avenue. To most he resembled any other summer dweller soaking in the atmosphere from a darkened doorway on side of a bodega. Directly across the street, above an unoccupied storefront were Raul and Domingo watching discreetly from an open window. His cousin Domingo wanted to meet with Carlos tonight, but Alfonzo wasn’t having it. Domingo’s high-strung personality coupled with his dislike of Carlos made for a volatile situation. Alfonzo wasn’t worried about Carlos. He was nothing but a petty hustler from Brooklyn looking to score product and bringing along a friend seeking a new supplier. It’s always the one you don’t know you worry about. Carlos vouched for his boy, but like Domingo, Alfonzo didn’t trust anyone.
Alfonzo rocked impatiently on his heels. He disliked doing business in public. They were too, damn visible. Preliminary introductions never occurred in his spot, only a trusted few got that far and Carlos wasn’t one of them. There were snitches everywhere trying to avoid lock-up, or undercover NYPDicks looking for a major bust. Personally, he disliked Carlos but he was related to an acquaintance, a dude he played ball with at the Polo Grounds. Juan was from uptown and Alfonzo bumped into the dude often. If anything went wrong, he’d simply bust Juan’s ass for putting him on to his shifty cousin. Alfonzo adapted a positive attitude and shrugged. Money’s money right, it’s all dirty? Alfonzo glanced at his watch, Carlos was late. Another ten minutes and he’s out!
“Hola, ‘Fonzo que paso?”
He looked up to see Xenia, a chica from the west-side. She moved toward him and they exchanged kisses. She was accompanied by another hot chica. Judging from their outfits they were heading downtown to go clubbing. He slipped her two Franklin’s then blended into the shadows.
“Thanks papi, sure you don’t wanna come hang?”
His chin went up, “Nah, working, but you ladies be careful out here, watch your drinks and get a cab home, me siento?”
“Te siento…I feel you.” Xenia said as she sauntered away with an extra sway to her hips and Alfonzo laughed. If he wasn’t doing business he’d accompany them to the club; however business always took precedence over pleasure.
Alfonzo heard the music before he spotted Carlos’ ride cruising down the avenue. The bass was cranked at full volume and drawing unwanted attention. The music lowered and Carlos’ high pitched voice could be heard free-styling over a classic Fifty Cent joint. Carlos’ ambition to become a rapper was obvious, except he lacked talent and anyone who signed him to a deal must be one tone deaf motherfucker!
Alfonzo remained where he was for a minute until he was sure the chromed out SUV wasn’t followed then casually strolled to the curb. The tinted windows rolled downward, “Que tal?” Carlos greeted through a cloud of marijuana smoke.
Alfonzo nodded, “Nada, what’s up your late?”
His eyes fixated on the occupants. Carlos’ right hand man Hector drove. In the backseat were two men in hoodies. The temperature registered eighty degrees. He stepped back on the curb. He got a bad vibe and he always listened to his gut…always.
“Yo, so what we late nigga’ whattup with our shit?”
Carlos swiveled his head to look at his boy who spoke out of turn, “Jay, relax!”
“Nah man I ‘aint got all day!” Jay scowled.
So, Carlos can’t muzzle his boy, which means he doesn’t have any control!
The use of the N-word didn’t digest well with Alfonzo. The word was offensive, a negative connotation and an abbreviation for niggardly. If the dumb shit read a dictionary he’d find it meant, poor and beggarly, and reserved for a sorry ass sonovabitch!
Alfonzo snarled, “I’m not your nigga, your boy, homey, hombre –nada, entender ashole?”
Carlos jumped to Jay’s defense, speaking rapidly in Spanish, “Yo, Alfonzo chill. Jay’s cool he’s eager that’s all.”
Alfonzo retorted, “Your friend isn’t cool with me, fucking chump. Don’t ever bring anyone else to me Carlos. Matter-of-fact, don’t you ever come around my way to cop shit. We’re done!” He stepped away from the car and eyeballed the one called Jay.
Carlos exited the vehicle, platinum chain sparkling beneath the streetlamp. “Come on Alfonzo, lo siento…check it…my man got the funds, don’t be like that, yo. We can still do business.”
Alfonzo stopped and crossed his arms, covertly touching steel, “Where your boys from?”
“Bed—stuy, do or die.” Carlos answered.
“You mean Crooklyn, step off, Carlos.” Alfonzo warned.
Carlos shrugged and headed toward his vehicle. With Alfonzo, there wasn’t a chance of negotiation once you pissed him off and stupid ass Jay did that and more.
Alfonzo began to walk away when the rear door swung open. Jay rushed at him and blocked his retreat brandishing a gun. “Nigga gimme the shit or I’ll blow your fuckin’ head off!”
Jay’s action hadn’t surprised him. In fact, Alfonzo anticipated the underhanded shit. He made a swift movement with his wrist to deflect the direction of the weapon and dislodged it from Jay’s grasp. The gun clanged to the ground and slid down the curb near the gutter. “Wha…the fuck?” Jay mouthed as Alfonzo applied pressure to his wrist and twisted sharply until he was kneeling against the pavement with a shiny silver 9mm pushed hard against his Adam’s apple. “Yo…yo man chill…chill.”
None of Carlos’ crew intervened. Alfonzo smirked, the minute he stepped away from the car and crossed himself this signaled to his watchers. Right on cue Raul and Domingo were on each side of the vehicle, weapons pointed inside at its occupants.
“Yo! Yo! Alfonzo I ‘aint got shit to do with this!” Carlos began, “Just thought my man wanted to cop some shit, lo siento…for real!” He exclaimed as he backed away. Alfonzo’s loco, this was a dumb-ass plan! Alfonzo’s boys were going to come hard.
Jay stared into calm blue eyes. This blue eyed Puerto-Rican was too calm like one of those cold-blooded types who’d squeeze the trigger without hesitation!
Alfonzo’s muscles relaxed. This Jay was a punk, he could tell by the fear in his eyes. He wasn’t worth a bullet, instead he struck Jay in the mouth with his fist, “Next time maricon, you try to jack me, I’ll cut your balls off, comprende?”
Sirens wailed in the distance as Jay jumped up and scrambled back to the car. Once Carlos and his boy were inside, Domingo waved his gun at the driver and a frightened Hector tore off down the street to avoid getting capped in the head. The SUV careened around a corner and Domingo scoffed, “Punk-asses.”
Raul kicked Jay’s piece down the drain, “Shit probably got bodies on it. I wouldn’t even touch the old crap!”
The trio discreetly tucked away their weapons as Fernando appeared with the car. They climbed in and Domingo was the first to vent. “Carlos ‘gonna get his, word!
Alfonzo nodded. His cell was blowing up all evening. He didn’t need to check it again; he knew exactly who it was. Antonia. Mamasita wanted something, money or loving. Right now he could use a physical release, especially after the anti—climactic scene. Shit, I can go twelve rounds tonight!<
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Twenty minutes later Domingo drove Alfonzo uptown. Raul and Fernando were at the spot and the cousins had a chance to talk business. They discussed popping Carlos tonight but Alfonzo decided its best they wait, let the tension subside then deal with Carlos later.
“You’re waiting or what?” Alfonzo enquired when they rolled to a stop in
front of Antonia’s building.
“You should’ve taken your car; I’m not your goddamn chauffeur, primo!”
“Yeah, but I didn’t, so fucking wait!”
“Just hurry up, ‘cause I got my own itch I need scratched!”
Alfonzo flipped his cousin the bird then entered the building. A building he owned and bought with clean money. The cash he made from the enterprise with his cousin was divvied between stocks and foreign investments. He didn’t want the dirty shit mingling with the profits he made from his legit real estate business. The IRS and law enforcement were quick to freeze assets derived from criminal activity, so he covered his bases by keeping his company’s books clean and laundering the dirty stuff.
He stood outside Antonia’s apartment door and tapped three times and she answered, clad in a scanty silk negligee as if she’d known he’d eventually come. “Hey papi.” She cooed then wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him hungrily.
“Damn, Antonia slow down chica!” He moved inside the apartment kicking the door shut as she fumbled with his belt buckle. She guided him to the sofa purring in his ear how much she missed him. It sounded good, everything he needed to hear but words he found hard to believe. Antonia was crafty, she understood ways in getting what she wanted but she underestimated him. They were supposed to have an understanding. This was strictly platonic. It meant a working business relationship and he’d made it clear. He got something; she got something and that’s the gist of their relationship. The romantic shit in her head, she’d better forget about, because for him, commitment didn’t exist.
She moved at a feverish pace, until his trousers fell to the floor around his ankles and his manhood stood at attention. She scoot her bottom seductively across the sofa seat in a sweeping motion and spread her thighs, “I mizzed you…you miz me, tambien?”
Alfonzo stepped out of his jeans, “Si, linda…yes!”
Antonia pointed a finger at his crotch, “Yo se…I know.”
He straddled her and lifted her legs around his waist as he knelt on the edge of the leather sofa then he stopped at a pivotal moment when decisions are made in haste and working relationships sour. Damn, I almost got caught up!
He reached to the floor and removed a prophylactic from his pocket. Always –always use a condom was the advice he received from his uncle many years ago when he didn’t understand what the hell Uncle Al was talking about. He might not have understood the importance as a child, but as a man he recognized the words of wisdom were a life-saver. There were scandalous chicks, diseased chicks, lying chicks and downright careless chicks. They’d drag your ass to family court claiming you’re a daddy or have you gasping for breath after contracting some super STD that caused your penis to pee fire!
Condoms, I don them. That’s my motto!
Vibrant red nails raked his back as he put on the condom then yanked his shirt over his head the moment he was done. She planted hot kisses on his hairless chest, “Ummmm,” then fingers circled his sheathed penis to guide it between feminine warm flesh. Her back arched to accept his swollen manhood and her legs clamped around his waist pulling him forward, gravity sending him deeper than he wanted to venture. “Ooooh papi,” she purred and tightened her thigh muscles in response to his slow gyrations.
The sensual rhythmic action caused the tension to ebb from his body as they rocked back and forth in unison. He hoisted her buttocks off the sofa, pumping feverishly like a man trying to silence a tortured soul. His eyes closed attempting to connect…to feel an emotion…a bonding, anything. Yet, his soul was barren. Being inside her only elicited a minor pleasure.
She caressed his hair and the display of tenderness made him wish he could return the affection but he couldn’t and refrained from lying. He refrained from empty gestures. He didn’t love the chica. Basically, he felt...nothing. It’s sex, not love! Antonia was a transient distraction, a woman he kept around for convenience. He never lied to women. Antonia was no exception. She accepted his lukewarm affections, but he noticed in her eyes hope that one day his feelings might change. She was unaware he did not love her…could not love her simply because love toppled the strongest of men. It made them docile, weak, open to unnecessary pain and left them scarred when the ardor cooled. He was young, but he’d been with many women and his feelings hadn’t changed. Except for one and she burned him and after that he said fuck it, love that is, for some people it’s just a game. They lie, cheat and lie again. The hurt wasn’t worth it. Besides, the way he was going, he’d wind up in jail or dead, unless he got out of this life and this city.
No, he could never love her…he simply wanted comfort. The rotation of her hips elicited an equal fervor, except his were thunderous explosions of frustration as a result of a shitty day.
Despite his aversion to a committed relationship there were no complaints from women concerning his sexual prowess. In fact, they accepted his terms of a platonic relationship in exchange for carnal pleasure and of course, kind favors. He was caught up in his head, until she suddenly pant, “No mas, no more..papi,” and he exploded in release then came back down to earth.
Antonia slumped against the pillows with a satisfied smile, “Stay, I make something to eat.”
“Can’t…I’m working.”
Her eyes followed him, hoping he’d stay. Antonia believed he’d come to love her eventually if she played her cards right. She did not seek to cover herself, modesty belonged to the self-conscious. She wanted Alfonzo to view her nakedness and crave it until he could not be without her. These were her fantasies, ones not shared by the man of her dreams. Alfonzo was the whole package, fine, smart, loaded and with a rock hard body which made women want to touch. What she didn’t plan on, was falling in love so quickly. He disappeared into the bathroom with his clothes and she heard the sound of urination followed by the toilet flushing. Soon running water was heard before he returned to the small living-room fully clothed.
“I can’t give you what you want Antonia,” he said in Spanish, “anytime this isn’t working out for you then let me know.” He took a wad of Grant’s and Franklin’s from his wallet and placed them in her hand. “Hang with your girls or buy something nice, chica.” He tried not to sound like a john because Antonia deserved better. Yes, her reputation as a jealous gold-digger might be well founded but beneath the shallow exterior was a woman who wanted a meaningful relationship. He couldn’t give her that, instead he gave money and things to soften the rejection. She sighed; folded the money in her hands and frowned. She wished he’d reconsider just this once; instead he bent and kissed her then turned to leave. She watched him go hoping one day he’d realize exactly what he was passing up.
***
“Goddamn, you need a shower!” Domingo exclaimed as Alfonzo settled in the passenger seat of the SUV.
“Shut the fuck-up and drive. I’m tired!”
“Yo, don’t take shit out on me because your ass don’t want to stay long enough to bathe. I don’t understand you cuz, why not just stay over?”
“The minute I do, it’ll become an expectation. I’ll handle my business and you take care of yours primo.” Alfonzo rolled down the window as the SUV rolled away from the eight story building. “I’m flying out to Puerto Rico, I need to get outta’ here and chill.”
“I hear that.”
The serenity of the island’s clear ocean and soft sand beckoned. Alfonzo’s property in San Juan possessed a panoramic view of the Atlantic Ocean that soothed his restless soul. There were too many things on his mind and he needed somewhere secluded to kick back and contemplate the future.
Domingo noticed the change in Alfonzo during
the past few days. He was taking shit out on everybody. The dude was itching for combat at the slightest provocation, which isn’t good considering his history. Alfonzo got crazy in a fight, he’d wild-out on a motherfucker and they never got up!
“What’s up with you man –putas stressing you?”
Alfonzo settled against the plush leather interior and exhaled, “Yo no se, I’ve been getting bad vibes…tu sabe?”
“Not really, “Domingo said as his eyes followed a girl waiting at the crosswalk once they came to a stoplight, “Oooh mami.”
Alfonzo pulled down his cap totally disinterested. He tried to catch some Z’s while the SUV cruised along Malcolm X Boulevard with its music pumping. Tomorrow he’d call Uncle Al for advice on a few things. It’s been a while since they chilled, had a real man-to man talk. His uncle was the only dude in his life who talked sense. He thought about Uncle Al’s phone call the other day, asking him to come down to City Hall. At first he thought tio got himself in trouble, until he stepped through the doors of the courthouse and saw him standing there sharp as hell with this gorgeous woman at his side, and then it became obvious. His uncle was getting married by the Justice of the Peace, sneaky bastard. The woman Darlene was nice from the short time he spent with them. Uncle Al swore him to secrecy before he took off.
“Listen, don’t tell anybody, yet. We’re going to have a huge celebration and invite the entire family over. Right now, we just want to keep things quiet, tú sabe?”
“Sí, entiendo. Congrats man. I’m happy for you.” He said.
That was a week ago, and he hadn’t spoken to his uncle since. It was time he broke up their honeymoon and became acquainted with his uncle’s new family.
Finally, Domingo reached the crib, “Te veo mas tarde!” Alfonzo said drowsily as he stepped out.
“Call me manana and get a fuckin’ bath!” Domingo replied.
“Shut up!” Alfonzo retorted then strolled past his Mercedes Benz SL600 Roadster, checking it for any damages. It remained undisturbed in front of the brownstone. Nobody messed with his shit, they were too afraid. He jogged up the steps to the newly renovated home he purchased for a bargain during the market crash. The property owner was in foreclosure and the bank was selling it for a steal. The property values in this exclusive neighborhood near the university were well over a mil. He grinned and to think he got it for half. Upon completion of the renovation, it‘s value increased exponentially. With the equity alone he could purchase two or three more houses in this distressed market with ease.
