Alfonzo (7 page)

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.”

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 in
to
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 doin
g…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.
S
he gagged then
cover
ed
her mouth
, and
tr
ied
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. S
elange
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 m
ovement
,
only screams
from a daughter’s soul. In the
faraway distance
,
Shanda’s voice shouted for an ambulance and a cacophony of voices scream
ed
in unison
at the horror
.

S
he lay down
i
n 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 h
esitated, 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,
p
erhaps this gesture could wake her,
and maybe
the nephew of her stepfather could help her
and s
ave 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 expla
nation 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
A
l
there, is
this Al Diaz’
phone
?”

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

“Okay
, I
’ll help you
. Tel
l 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 in
side 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
. H
is 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
. S
eeing 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
; c
rime 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
, p
aramedics
with their bright orange bags administering aid to a girl covered in blood
laying
on a stretcher in the hall, a
nother
distraught
girl s
itting
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
mo
therfucker
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 w
as 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
, f
ucking liar
-
pendejo
!
”
Alfonzo scrambl
ed
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.

A
n authoritative voice instructed the officer
s 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?”