Alfonzo

by S. W. Frank

  Real estate turned-out to be a very lucrative business if you know what you’re doing.

  * * *

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A sizable chunk of tax-payer dollars got spent in the borough of Manhattan where tourists flocked for the Broadway shows and other landmark attractions. The intruder grinned; if only the Mayor came here to witness the squalor of some city housing units perhaps he’d allocate more funds for their upkeep. He’d been down near Lincoln Center, walked Fifth Avenue, traversed midtown down to Tribeca and everywhere you turned money stared back. Yeah, you need money to live comfortably in NYC, without it you were just like a cockroach crawling over leftovers.

  There were visible traces of litter in the corridor. Gum wrappings, a tip of a blunt and what appeared to be fresh spit on the hard cement floor. The smell of urine mingled with a variety of culinary aromas. He proceeded down the corridor until he reached apartment 4C. There were voices inside. A man and woman were talking then it became quiet. He waited a second as a set of footsteps retreated then faded. He could hear movement in the living room; someone was alone in the front. He had a fifty-fifty chance of getting his target at the door. No, he thought he had to do them all. No loose ends. Damn……I hate doing freebies.

  He tapped on the door.

  Footsteps sounded, followed by a woman’s voice. “Yeah, who is it?”

  “Housing,” he answered calmly. The door opened and a woman resembling the girl he saw leaving the building peered from behind a crack in the door. She saw…she recognized death. Too bad! He aimed and fired then quickly stepped inside catching her by the arm before she hit the floor. He placed her gently on the floor and closed the door.

  Al entered the room just then, “Hey honey….” His eyes darted from the stranger to Darlene lying on the floor with blood pouring from her forehead. Like an angry bull he ran at the intruder before being hit by a hot projectile in the leg. He fell to one knee then sucked in the pain, regained his footing and closed the distance. Another explosion occurred at the center of his chest just as he reached the man and his fist struck hard across the intruder’s face. The blow sent him sliding across the floor mopping up blood as he skid.

  Adrenalin kept Al alive long enough to stoop down and strike the intruder once more. The impact stunned the man, he hadn’t expected a struggle. Often, it took one shot and most men lost their fight, but this one took two and managed to keep coming. He’d allotted a mere ten minutes for completion of this job, five were already used. Angered, he lifted his weapon then fired into the side of Al’s skull. Blood splattered everywhere. He cursed aloud when his target finally slumped over and crashed to the floor. “Goddammit, now I have to clean the fuck up!”

  Ten minutes over time he appeared in the courtyard wearing a clean white T-shirt, a Yankee cap, pants and carrying a borrowed duffle bag and strode calmly past the unsuspecting residents to the cheap rental car.

  ***

  Shanda consistently checked her text messages on her upgraded iPhone. Her head twisted around to Selange as she surfed the net, “Hey dig this, Rahin’s a trip. He’s asking what I’m wearing. Doesn’t the fool know it’s Friday night and I’m far from going to bed? I’m ‘gonna lie and tell him I’m wearing a thong and a baby doll lace bra.” She laughed then crossed her legs thoroughly pleased with herself.

  Selange pseudo-listened, she checked rental ads as she considered getting her own crib. Hanging out with Shanda was a temporary diversion. Eventually, she had to return home and confront her mother. She hit the log-out button and sat up. Maybe, she should go now and get it over with. Remorse was starting to set in. What she said to her mom was cruel, it’s only she didn’t want anyone taking advantage of her. It’s ironic the gigolo married her mom after she won the lottery, who wouldn’t be suspicious?

  Then again, Al did seem head over heels for her mom before the winnings, Selange admitted. The eyes never lie and Al’s were always filled with joy. ‘Man…oh man I feel like crap!’

  “Jay and his boy Carlos are coming by right now. You should see Carlos, goddamn, he’s fine!”

  “What happened to Rahim, weren’t you texting him a minute ago?”

  “Selange, I’m not married to the guy. I’m young and plan to take advantage of my attributes before I lose what I have,” she ran her fingers down her hips to exaggerate the point.

  “Well I’m not going to lie to guys and pretend they’re the only one I’m seeing, especially knowing it could lead to drama. You need to be careful Shanda, playing with someone’s emotions is not a game.”

  “Ah lighten up, that’s what guys do all the motherfucking time. It’s only the dumb bitches who believe everything they tell ‘em. Rahim’s probably going to some girl’s house right now and hit me up just to find out where I’m at so he can whore around.”

  “Then why bother playing games?”

  Shanda giggled, “Because it’s fun and that’s what young people do.”

  “I’m not interested in those types of games and I’m young. You’re just fucked-up.”

  “Well, I’d rather be fucked-up, then not-fucked, Miss Honesty.”

  The doorbell rang and Shanda screeched, “That’s them, come on girl let’s go have fun!”

  At the door Carlos checked out the tall chocolate honey standing behind Jay’s girl with unconcealed lust. Man, was she fine. When Jay described Shanda’s friend, he said she was gorgeous, but hot damn, he wasn’t lying. The girl was fa-yine! His ego rose to new heights when later she sat up front in his car. He inhaled her sweet scent and smiled. To impress her, he previewed some of his raps and she blushed. Yeah, she liked him. He could tell.

  Selange on the other-hand could not wait for the night to end. Carlos was everything she disliked, he was ‘hood’ and immature. The man was twenty-three and unable to hold an intelligent conversation without using profanity or talking about dead rappers. He lacked basic manners, was rude to the waitress at the restaurant, tried touching her inappropriately in the movie theatre and to top it off tried kissing her when she asked him to chill. No, he wasn’t smooth, cool or interesting and she considered him a fucking joke. A young man with nothing to offer except talk of what he wanted to do, without a clue on how to get there. Another ignorant young man with lofty ambitions to become a rapper who failed to understand the most prolific rap artists were also well read.

  Carlos seemed impressed she graduated college and worked, which showed how limited his circle of friends were. They were probably all like Jay. Young men wanting to take short cuts through life, only to find out thirty years later, there are none. She saw them every day, hanging outside the building complex with their wine and weed, dressed like boys. These were grown-ass men wearing baseball caps, oversize jerseys and clean construction boots. Yeah, she passed them early in the morning and on the way home from work. Nope, she didn’t see any man like Carlos in her future; she saw a man like her father, educated, well-dressed and respectable. That’s the kind of guy who stood any chance of getting her attention.

  It was after midnight when they returned to Shanda’s place and Selange sighed with relief. “That was an experience.”

  “Wasn’t Carlos cute…didn’t I tell you?”

  “He’s not my type.”

  “Your type doesn’t exist. Your expectations are too high.”

  “If you say so.” Selange opened her purse and took out her keys, “I’ll see you. I need to get home.”

  “I’m coming, too.”

  Shanda’s house was quiet. Her parents were probably asleep. They didn’t keep tabs on their daughter. Her older brother Kevin was married and living in California with a wife and a kid. They probably figured she’d be out the house soon too, so why bother.

  Shanda trailed Selange to her new car; a gift for her twenty-second birthday. It was a sleek black Mercedes which attracted onlookers and Shanda loved attention. “We look like celebrities!”

  “Celebrity my ass, you only want to stay over to talk my head off about guys.”<
br />
  Shanda grinned, “Don’t tell me you weren’t feeling Carlos?”

  The car’s engine roared to life with a push of the electronic key. Selange readjusted the mirror, “Can you cut it out with this Carlos crap. If you want him, then take him.”

  Her friend smirked and reclined in the plush leather seat, “I love this damn car!”

  “I know…you say it every time you get in it.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER FIVE

  They rode the rickety elevator and sighed when it finally jerked to a halt on the fourth floor. The doggone thing broke down at least once a month. Selange suspected local kids messed with it. In a way, she was glad to get out of here and into a real home. Her intentions of moving out on her own, was delayed for the time being. She decided to try and be happy for her mom and get to know Al. Her mom was an important part of her life, and if Al made her happy, then so be it.

  Shanda’s cell rang. The distinct ring-tone identified the caller. Jay. She smiled broadly and answered in a sultry voice, “Hey Jay, how you doing…I’m at my girl’s place tonight…yeah…he said that. I’ll tell her. What you guys doing the rest of the night?”

  Selange ignored the conversation as she unlocked the door and stepped inside the dark apartment. She ran a hand alongside the wall in search of the familiar light switch. Her finger touched it and flipped it up. Bright light negated the darkness and when it did, what greeted her made her knees weak and raised a howl from her throat. The figures sprawled on the floor beneath the spotlight were unmistakable. Lying in a large pool of blood were her mom and Al. Their bodies were twisted in a grotesque position of victims who suffered a violent death. She gagged then covered her mouth, and tried to force her brain to work. Her limbs were in a state of temporary paralysis. The image couldn’t be real; she tried to process what she saw and in time realized it wasn’t a dream or a cruel trick. “Oh God! Mommy!”

  In High School she learned CPR and tried to recall the sequence as her legs finally came alive. She rushed to her mom, peered down at the bloody face. In her shock she saw life; however the lifeless body revealed its true condition. The color of her mother’s mottled skin did not prevent an attempt to revive the cold blue lips. Selange blew hard, pound her mother’s chest then screamed to the heavens for God to perform a miracle, but he didn’t answer. There were no breaths or movement, only screams from a daughter’s soul. In the faraway distance, Shanda’s voice shouted for an ambulance and a cacophony of voices screamed in unison at the horror.

  She lay down in the blood and placed her head against her mother’s cheek, crying and whispering how sorry she was…how utterly sorry. The silence grew and she found herself dozing, wanting to believe she were in bed asleep and tomorrow everything would return to normal. Tomorrow, they were moving away from this hardened place to a softer, kinder existence. Tomorrow, they would all be together as a family.

  A cell rang…it stopped…it rang again…hazy eyes opened in the fog of hell to spy an illuminated light coming from Al’s waist. The word, SOBRINO, seemed to flash like a beacon of hope. Nephew, Al had a nephew. It rang again and Selange hesitated, afraid to answer. Despite her fear, something caused her trembling hand to reach toward it and remove the device from the dead man’s waist.

  “Don’t touch anything Selange!” Someone yelled, but she dismissed the warning. This was a light, Al had family and she had none.

  She ignored the cries at her back, perhaps this gesture could wake her, and maybe the nephew of her stepfather could help her and save her from this nightmare. Maybe she was given drugs and this was all a hallucination. Yes, she was drugged and this was not real was the explanation a mind in denial offered a distraught girl.

  The accented voice was saying something, “Hello…hóla…hello.”

  Sirens were in her head making a racket. She found words. Her voice shook. It was feeble and drugged, “Help…help me…”

  “Hello is Al there, is this Al Diaz’ phone?”

  “Yes, but…but…he’s dead…please help me…” She sobbed uncontrollably and the voice reached out and calmed her drugged mind to pull her through the darkness.

  “Okay, I’ll help you. Tell me where you are and I’ll come and help you.”

  “Please…please…help me…”

  “Hello?”

  The voice demanded the address and she couldn’t remember. The nephew…yes…sobrino…was Spanish for nephew…the nephew told her to breathe…to breathe and she did, then the nephew quietly asked again for the address. Selange listened to the deep male voice. Focus…it said…stay strong. Her mouth became dry. She focused like the voice said and remembered, “533 Marcy, 4C.” Then the haze took on a solid mass and weighed her down. She drifted away, dropping the phone into the dark red fluid and Shanda’s screams were the last sound she heard before fading inside her mind.

  ***

  Alfonzo arrived to a bevy of police activity. His heart beat loud in his chest. On the long drive from uptown to Brooklyn he prayed to every Saint for this to be a cruel hoax. Yet, Uncle Al would never do such a thing. In his heart he knew, but didn’t want to believe. His gut…his instinct confirmed the truth. The pitiful cries from the girl on the phone –Al’s cell were playing like a melancholy song in his head. He could hear and feel her distress. She pleaded for his help and he prayed he arrived in time. If he were too late to save his uncle then maybe he could save her. Seeing the swarm of blue, he surmised he arrived too late, afterall. A uniformed cop attempted to hold him back when he reached the fourth floor. He ran past the officer, in the direction of the yellow tape; crime scene tape. He’d seen his share of them and the victims which he knew by name and those he met before death. His eyes assessed the scene. In milliseconds he absorbed everything; the detectives questioning residents, paramedics with their bright orange bags administering aid to a girl covered in blood laying on a stretcher in the hall, another distraught girl sitting crouched in a corner being comforted by a guy. When the dude raised his head as Alfonzo passed; the face stopped him cold. That’s the motherfucker Jay from yesterday!

  In the midst of his anguish blazed a fury so deep, he was helpless to slow it and reached down and grabbed Jay by the throat. He struck Jay with such force his head bounced off the concrete wall, “You hurt my Uncle bastado?”

  Officers rushed at him, pulling at his clothes but Alfonzo persisted in pummeling Jay until blood squirt from his mouth and nose. “You touched my family you sonovabitch…I’m going to get you maricon…I’m going to kill you!”

  Alfonzo was wrestled to the floor and handcuffed with his arms behind his back. He thrashed around like a psych patient screaming in despair and swearing at Jay, “My Uncle…tio…you hurt tio. I’m right here bastard, you want me motherfucker, huh?”

  Jay was assisted to his feet by medics and they were cleaning the blood from his face. Jay shouted, “What the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout you crazy motherfucker? I was on the phone with my girl when this shit happened.”

  “Pendejo, fucking liar -pendejo!” Alfonzo scrambled to his feet and Jay backed up. The cops were unable to hold him and he was charging straight at the lying sonovabitch when he was jerked forcefully back. Multiple hands restrained him and he was brought down again. Except, this time there was weight on his spine holding him down.

  An authoritative voice instructed the officers to back off then addressed the out of control young man. “My name’s Detective Johnson. You calm down and we’ll talk, can you do that?”

  Alfonzo rolled on his back and put a face to the voice, “My uncle…he’s in there…this chick said he’s dead. It’s not true right…it’s not true, que no es verdad?”

  Detective Johnson jerked Alfonzo up and on his feet, “You either take it easy or I’ll arrest you!” He instructed. “Your assault was witnessed, you know what that means?”

  “Arrest me, but let me see for myself. I want to make sure it’s him!”

  The officers stood close, ready to whisk Alfonzo off to jail, b
ut he didn’t give a damn. He wanted to see. Maybe, the girl…he spun around and saw the girl on the gurney eyeing him sadly. She’s the one…he thought she’s the one!

  “Take the cuffs off Brody.” Detective Johnson gripped Alfonzo’s arm as Officer Brody unlocked the handcuffs then propelled him forward, “One more outburst and that’s it. Got it?”

  Alfonzo clenched his teeth, “Sí.”

  Detective Johnson relaxed the pressure to his arm then motioned for a plainclothes officer to guard the young women and Jay. He looked over at his daughter, “Don’t go anywhere Shanda,” eyes fell on her male friend, “and that includes you too!”

  The detective escorted Alfonzo inside the apartment where a forensics team collected evidence. Alfonzo glanced at the nonporous tarp covering the bodies. His chest heaved violently, “Is that Tio?

  Detective Johnson opened his pad. “What’s your Uncle’s name?”

  “Alfonzo Javier Diaz.”

  “Is there a contact number to a next of kin?” He asked before he even let Alfonzo near the bodies.

  “Me,” Alfonzo hissed, still pissed at seeing Jay there and the delay in being shown what lay beneath the darkened tarp. He thought about his mother and his aunt. The news of their brother’s untimely death should not come from a stranger. If this was Uncle Al then he’d break the news as gently as possible. The entire family loved Al –deeply.

  Detective Johnson gave the kid a minute then continued, “What’s his date of birth?”