“Oh my God! Ali! Put your sister down!” He let go and I plummeted to the ground. Ilooked at my mom, coughing and struggling to breathe, she was my savior.
“My goodness! Are you crazy? You know better than that,” she said.
Ali didn’t say anything. I felt like for a just a quick second, I had seen death.Suddenly, I had a thought. He would have killed me if my mom didn’t walk in. I placedmy hands on the dresser and pulled myself up. I wobbled on weak legs as I pointed myfinger at him accusingly.
“He’s crazy. “I just came in here to tell him that we had to go and see what’s hisname, and he attacked me,” I blurted out in one long sentence. My cheeks were flushed. Icould feel the blood surging through my body and my heart was beating double time. Iwatched Ali’s hands clinch into fists, and I ran and hid behind my mother, I needed herprotection. Ali had always been short tempered with his rage intensity going from zero toten in a split second. Now, it seemed like something in him had short circuited, gonehaywire. He was completely mad and heinously violent. The floor trembled, and in twoseconds, Maria poked her head into the door.
“What’s going on here?” she asked in a low manly voice. “Nothing momma, I goteverything under control,” my momma answered back meekly.
“Well, you got to go, he’s waiting for you. And you can’t be late.” Maria said. Theyexchanged glances and my mom lowered her head like a Private addressing a Captain.
“Momma, take Nelly. I got to stay here with Ali. He’s just not ready to go yet,” mymom said.
Maria eyed Ali before she responded.
“Is he giving you problems?” she asked quizzically, but she sounded more like a loanshark, ready to break someone’s leg.
“No momma, I got it under control. Just go, so we don’t lose the appointment,” shesaid.
“Alright, but you call me if this little asshole starts to act up. He thinks because he’sbeen around Nico for six months that he’s tough and mean. That little motherfucka ain’tseen mean until he’s come up against my ass,” she said cracking her knuckles.
“Okay, momma just go,” my mom said pleadingly.
“You want to start acting crazy, I’ll show your ass crazy,” Maria said, pointing alarge finger at Ali.
“Hay Dos Mia.” My mom said this as she rolled her eyes.
“Stay here and work with em. He needs to get all of the shit out of him if he wants tostay in my house,” Maria said.
“Momma go,” my mom said impatiently while waving her hands in the air.Maria turned slowly, eyeing Ali out of the slits that were now her eyes.
“I’m going to be back in two hours to straighten your ass out,” Maria said flatly. Shelooked at me and for the first time, I could see some warmth in her eyes. I didn’t look atAli. I was way too disappointed. I felt like a pet owner who had been maimed andmutilated by her two hundred pound chimpanzee. Fortunately for me, I still had my face.However, the relationship that my brother and I shared had been torn to pieces anddeemed utterly unrecognizable. I coughed in attempt to cover up a sob. I was upset andwanted to cry, but I knew that it wasn’t the best thing to do in front of Maria. She hatedweakness.
I had lived literally a half-hour from New York City my whole life. But it wasn’tuntil I was thirteen that I actually went there. I couldn’t believe it, all the lights andpeople. Night had fallen and there was a cold mist in the air. People walked aboutwearing spring jackets and some had scarves wrapped around their neck. They sipped onhot beverages and breathed out puffs of white smoke after every sip. There wereskyscrapers, quant boutiques and outside cafes with round tables and large umbrellas. Iloved it here, and I wanted to stop and look around, but Maria kept tugging on my arm.
I was way too afraid to ask her any questions, so I walked in silence, making mentalnotes that I would look up any question that popped into my mind later. We took a coupleof trains, got off and walked briskly to an old brownstone house that was located inSpanish Harlem. Maria struggled as she climbed up the stairs. She adjusted her coat andrang the doorbell. I stood and waited impatiently. I looked at Maria; her eyes were closed,as if she was deep in prayer. What the hell was going on with her? I looked at the doorand fought back the urge not to ring it again.
We waited for almost ten minutes before the door peeled open. A man with abaldhead and protruding belly peeked from behind it. I laughed to myself; he remindedme of a Black Buddha. Maria nudged me and sent me a look of death. Suddenly, Irealized that I had laughed out loud. I didn’t mean to. I have to admit, I was a lot ofthings, but I certainly wasn’t rude. Maria grabbed me by my hoodie and shoved me intothe door.
“We’re just a few minutes late. We had some problems with the boy,” Maria saidapologetically. She cleared her throat and continued.
“Maybe you can see him at another time?” she inquired, again trying to inject hermanly voice with a hint of softness.
Chobo didn’t say anything. Instead he looked me up and down. I avoided his gazedand did what I normally did when I met new people. I looked down at the floor andfocused on my feet. Chobo whistled.
“Wow! She’s a beauty,” he said.
“Yeah, she looks just like her mother,” Maria said, and I caught a hint of pride in hervoice.
“Almost like her,” Chobo said.
Then they just stopped and stared at each other like they were sharing
