On the Ropes (Down for the Count) (24 page)

“Come dance with me, Salem,” I try to lure her to the dance floor with me. “I wanna show you all my moves.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she nervously looks around, “they all look like they know what they’re doing out there.”

“We all gotta start somewhere. And who better than me to teach you?” I give her a wink.

She stares out at the dancers, contemplating whether or not to give it a try. “Come on, don’t be a chicken,” I take her by the hand and try to pull her out there, but her feet are firmly planted on the ground.

She looks at me out of the corner of her eye, and I give her the best sad face I can come up with. “Fine,” she groans loudly.

We make our way onto the crowded dance floor. Everyone is so in sync with their dance partner it’s as if they know each other intimately.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” she says loudly over the music and she tries to dart away.

I catch her by the wrist, pulling her back, “Sure you can. Watch my feet.”

I’m only planning on teaching her some basic steps; nothing too crazy. I want to regain some balance here and keep her close as long as I can. I move my left foot forward, counting out my steps. She watches the movements of my feet intently then begins counting with me. After I show her several times, she smiles, “Okay, I think I got it.”

I take her hands in mine again, starting off slowly, “One… two… three… four… five…” we say together.

As she gets the steps down, we begin to move faster, still counting. “You’re doing great, let’s add another step.”

“Another one?” she groans as her face drops.

“Why are you so worried? It’s just dancing, and we’re here to have fun, remember?”

She smiles sheepishly at me.

“Okay, we’re adding six and seven to our steps,” I continue, “so after five, we’re moving our right foot back a step.”

She looks up at me, confused.

“Watch my feet, Salem. It’s simple. One… two… three… four… five… six… seven…”

She stares at my feet as I do the movements several times, and she’s counting each and every step.

“Come on, let’s try it,” I take her hands in mine.

The first couple of times, she gets confused, and I end up stepping on her toes. But, by the eighth or ninth time we go through it, she’s got the steps down pat. She’s not even counting anymore. Her feet are moving along to the music; she’s becoming much more relaxed, the stiffness of her body has loosened up, and she’s finally beginning to enjoy herself. I see a smile breaking through, and the look of worry is gone from her face.
Mission accomplished
. It’s great to finally see the real her, no walls, no facade, not a care in the world. Just her and I, on the dance floor having fun.

“Every man’s got to figure to get beat sometime.”

—
Joe Louis

We’ve been dancing for the better part of two hours and both of us are breathless as we walk off the dance floor. Salem is holding her hair up off the back of her neck, fanning herself in an effort to cool down. “Wanna go get some water?” I ask, trying to catch my breath.

She looks relieved when she answers, “Yes, I’m dying of thirst.”

We walk over to one of the vendors. “Two bottles of water, please.”

“That was so much fun,” Salem says, smiling from ear to ear, “but my feet are killing me.”

“You did amazing for it only being your first time!” I congratulate her.

“Well, it must’ve been my teacher,” she clings onto my arm.

“I’m not so sure about that, you can move your hips pretty damn good.” Of course, my thoughts go to another place after that statement and I smile.

She looks at me through narrowed eyes, “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s not a nothing smile,” she tries to coax me into answering her.

“You’re right, it’s not.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Maybe later,” I begin to toy with her.

“Later when?”

“In the car on the way home,” I wink. “You wanna walk around some more and cool down?”

She makes a face at me. “Do you mind if we sit for a little while? I’d love to take my boots off for a few minutes.”

“Of course, we can sit for as long you want.”

We walk through the crowd of people that have gathered, and we find a spot near the dance floor. As soon as we sit, she takes off her boots. “Aaahhh…” she sighs in relief.

Salem watches the dancers, while my attention is completely on her; observing every facial expression she makes. I look away every once in a while, so she doesn’t catch on. We’re surrounded by children running and laughing, teenagers hanging out with their friends, and couples walking around hand in hand, but she’s the only one I notice. I’m totally entranced by her.

“I think I’m ready to walk around some more,” she announces.

“Are you sure about that? This place is pretty big. You can rest your feet a little longer if you want.”

“I’m good,” she nods confidently.

At some point during our exploration of the festival, I’d taken her hand into mine, and we’ve spent the last several hours walking hand in hand. Salem is enjoying all of the crafts that people are selling while I’m relishing the time I’ve gotten to spend with her.

“So, you used to come here with your family?” she asks me out of the blue.

“Yeah, it was the only thing we actually did as a family. My father was proud of his heritage.”

“Was?” She’s studying my face and I can almost see her brain mulling it over. I should have known the past tense reference was going to drum up questions about my childhood.

“I didn’t have a very happy childhood, Salem. My brother and I did anything and everything we could to escape our father.”

“Did he hit you?” she stops walking as her beautiful eyes fill with pity.

“That chapter in my life is over. You don’t have to feel sorry for me, I’ve dealt with my feelings and I’ve moved on.”

“What about your brother?” she keeps on with the questions.
Man, she’s going to make a great lawyer.

“Jase? Well…” pausing, I try to find the right words, “I guess he lost his way. I was lucky Frankie saved me.”

“What do you mean, ‘saved’ you?”

“Salem, look at this neighborhood. It doesn’t get much worse than this. I was a young kid with no guidance, what do you think I turned to?” I snap.

She looks up at me, and her eyes say it all. Not only have I shaken her with my sharp tongue, I’ve managed to hurt her at the same time.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I didn’t realize it would be this hard to come back here and deal with all this shit.”

“We should probably get going,” she whispers, as she leaves me standing there and begins walking in the direction of her car.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” I apologize again, wrapping my arm around her waist. She pulls away.

The rest of our walk is in complete silence. I don’t know how to make it up to her other than telling her that I’m sorry. Now I’ve gone and ruined a perfect day. “Do you want me to drive?” I ask as we reach her car.

“Sure.”

I’ve just hit the button to unlock the doors when I hear a voice from behind me, “You got any spare change, man?”

I spin around angrily, “Oh, sure. Here, let me give you fifty bucks so you can go shoot up!” I pretend to reach into my pocket as the silhouette of a man comes out of the shadows. I strain to see his face, but the dark hood he’s wearing makes it nearly impossible. “Salem, get in the car and lock the doors,” I urge her. With my eyes on the stranger in front of me, I hear her open and then shut her door. Now that I know she’s safe inside, I can focus on the situation without worrying about her. Who knows what this junkie could have on him: a knife or a gun? I widen my stance, now in fight mode. “Back off, man, or I’ll kick the fucking
shit
out of you,” I growl. I hear his foot scrape against the pavement. “Don’t take another fucking step,” I warn him again as I raise my fists.

“Take it easy, man, all I wanted was a few bucks. Geez, you don’t have to go crazy,” he says, coming into the light. I give him a quick once-over, noticing that his posture is terrible, and he’s thin as a rail, probably only weighing about a hundred and thirty pounds. I can definitely take him if I need to. His hands move up his body, and I brace myself. “Dude, you need to relax,” he pulls back his hood, revealing his face.

My mouth drops open in shock. “Jase?”

Standing in front of me is my little brother, but I hardly recognize him because he’s aged so much and looks so fragile. His hair is greasy and matted down on one side, and as I look into his eyes, even in the darkness, I can see that he’s high. His pupils are the size of a pinhead and the deep, dark circles underneath his eyes show that he probably hasn’t slept in days. His complexion is ashen, and his cheeks are sunken into his face.

I grab his arm forcefully, yanking up his sleeve to reveal track marks that are scattered all over. “Hey, what the fuck?!” he yells, pushing me away from him.

“You have no fuckin’ clue who I am, do you?” I glare at him.

“No, I don’t, and I’d appreciate if you’d get your hands off me,” he huffs as he pulls down his sleeve.

I get in his face, “Take a real good look, little brother.”

“Gabe?” His smile reveals his discolored teeth and the cracks in his lips begin to bleed. “Is it really you?”

“Gabriel, is everything okay?” Salem’s worried voice breaks through to me. I’d completely forgotten she was there.

“Everything is fine, Salem. Stay in the car,” I say over my shoulder.

“Do you want me to call the cops?”

“The cops? What the fuck,” Jase says loudly while he nervously looks around.

“She’s not gonna call the cops. Calm down.”

“I can’t have the cops here; I have a warrant out on me,” he’s getting frantic.

“A warrant for what?”

“B&E.”

“B&E? Let me guess, you stole someone’s DVD player and then tried to pawn it.”

“It wasn’t a DVD player, it was an iPod.”

I shake my head disapprovingly, “You look like shit.”

“Geez, thanks. It’s great to see you too.”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“I dunno. Friday, I think,” he scratches his head.

“Friday? It’s Sunday, Jase. You haven’t eaten in two days?”

He shrugs his shoulders at me.

“You’d rather get high than eat. Un-fuckin-believable,” I exhale in disgust.

“Sorry, we all can’t have a perfect life like you,” he sneers.

“A perfect life?” I grunt.

“Yeah, look at you,” he looks me up and down, “all dressed up, driving around in a fancy car with some hot chick on your arm. I bet you think you’re better than me, don’t you?” his tone is angry as he pushes his index finger into my shoulder.

I can feel my own anger building in response, “I don’t think I’m better than you. I just don’t have the option to lie around in some crack whore’s apartment, getting high all fuckin’ day. I gotta get up and go to work, actually pay my bills, instead of being a fuckin’ bum and begging for money from a stranger.”

I know my last words hit home by the torment on his face as he takes a swing at me. I duck, and his punch misses me completely. He spins almost in a full circle; his feet get tangled up together, and he loses his footing. I throw my arms out to catch him before he hits the ground. “Get your fuckin’ hands off me,” he jumps up angrily, his arms flailing in the air.

“Stay away from me, Gabe,” he holds his fists up like he wants to fight me as he’s huffing and puffing from his near fall.

“Jase, you’re embarrassing yourself,” I laugh at him, patting his shoulder.

“Shut up!” he shouts. “You were always the favorite! Everyone
loved
Gabriel,” he makes a face as he says my name. “Oh Gabriel, you’re so smart. Gabriel, you’re so handsome,” he mocks, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Mami always loved you more. Hell, even Papi loved you more. I was just the crybaby little brat.”

“That’s not true, Jase,” I try to console him. He’s ranting and raving like a lunatic.

“Gabriel? Is everything alright?” Salem’s head pops into view.

“Everything is fine. Just go back into the car.”

“It doesn’t sound like everything is okay,” she insists.

“Salem! Please?” I yell in her direction.

“Fine,” I hear her car door slam shut.

Jase is sitting down on the sidewalk at this point. He’s hugging his knees and rocking back and forth. I take a seat next to him and try to calm him down, “Jase, are you hungry? You want me to buy you something to eat?”

“No,” he sobs. “What I need is twenty bucks,” looking up at me, his dark eyes are filled with pain. Pain from the memories he’d just drudged up; pain from the need of getting his next fix.

“I’m not gonna enable, Jase. I’ll take you somewhere to get you something to eat. I’ll buy you some new clothes. Hell, you can even crash at my place for the night for a good night’s sleep and a hot shower. But, what I’m not going to do, is feed your addiction.”

“The hell with you then,” he stands up.

“Suit yourself.” Standing up as well, I make my way over to the car.