Down to the Bone (24 page)

Jaylene talks about political films of historical relevance to women and how, when she was a child, they influenced her into becoming an activist. Gisela and I mention Cuban films and how, sadly, Communist propaganda rules the movies Cubans can watch. If they want to see an American film, they’ve got to buy it in the black market for an eyeball and a foot. We effortlessly jump to talk about other things. “There’s a lake in Hialeah I went to last week on my day off,” Gisela says. “I was swimming with the ducks when a snake slithered past me.”

Jaylene and I listen with widened eyes as she explains that her friend took a heavy branch and hit the snake over the head till it swam away. If it had been poisonous, I wouldn’t be talking to Gisela right now. From one second to the next, life can either get you good or gift you.

I’m enjoying Gisela way too much. Just what I needed: the girl of my dreams to also love the same types of films, be into solar energy, retro music, organic foods, water sports, politics and fun in the sun right after I tell Mami I’m straight.

I speak to her in my broken Italian I’ve learned from a travel handbook and from watching Italian films.
“Come stai?”

Her braces have made her teeny teeth so perfectly lined up you’d think the dentist chiseled them down just before she got here. “
Bene.
” She smiles sweetly and my insides go all mushy, like melting, chocolate kisses. “That’s about all I know.” She smiles again, smoothly as a placid pond and holds onto her colorful beaded necklace. She has a suave demeanor as she gives her curls a distracted push away from her eyes.

We realize interests we share in common: architecture, music, novels, electric cars, hiking, camping out, riding bikes and traveling. When she speaks about environmentalism, it creates a shine around her that leaves me stunned. I shift from foot to foot and try to pull myself together.

“How long have you been Green?” I ask.

“Since I was a fetus. I came out of my mom’s womb scolding her about the way she was destroying the planet by polluting and hurting humans with the choices of chemicals she used on a daily basis.”

She grabs a bottle of sparkling grape juice off the coffee table next to us and takes sips of it while I speak excitedly about exotic fruit trees. “I’d like to fill the yard with them. One day, I want to be completely off the grid, use no emissions and make zero footprints.”

She grins. “Me too.”

I carry on about how even during bad economic times, millions who don’t have much line up outside stores on Black Friday, and on the day after Christmas, and collectively purchase billions of dollars worth of gifts. “I know we’re bombarded with advertisements about unnecessary items we need to buy, but shouldn’t people be spending their hard-earned cash on paying debts and on necessities?” She agrees. We have so much in common it stings.

We mention new and classic Italian films we love. She adores Lina Wertmuller, Fellini and other dead directors from a distant era as much as I do. She mentions global warming, tsunamis, snowstorms, earthquakes and other types of storms. I say, “Solar storms affect Earth. Part of the reason they happen is due to the relative position of the outer planets and the effect electromagnetic forces have on the sun relative to the earth.” I recently watched a documentary on the storms and am poised to impress, but hell, it’s so complicated I’m not sure if I confused the facts or got them right.

“Yeah. Ancient people were aware of all types of celestial connections without NASA’s huge telescopes, and other pioneering technologies only the elite can afford.”

Jaylene jumps in. I’m sure she’ll relate everything to women power or men’s behavior.

“That’s for sure. Take the moon, for instance. One day, the first girl bled like her mom and didn’t die. Suddenly, all females in the tribe started having periods at the same time. This got males to view bleeding girls as goddesses, and more powerful than them, because they’d die if they bled for a week straight. Our pre-history was matriarchal. Those first girls noticed the connections between their bodies and the moon cycles affecting weather. The moon not only influences the tides. It affects certain stars when they rise, especially in the Nile River, where Sirius rose in the east and announced floods.”

Gisela says, “Scientists take full credit for figuring that out. The first who understood the power of stem cells weren’t doctors and pharmaceuticals; they were the ancients and witches who took the blood of animals and women’s menstruation to heal their patients . . .”

Being around Gisela so long slaps me into reality. I hear Pedri’s little voice, “Shyly, I love you. I miss you so much. When are you going to move back?”

Something inside me rattles. The vase slips out of my hand and shatters into a thousand pieces. Jaylene, Gisela and I start pushing the glass with our shoes into a small pile. I insist I alone will pick it up.

As I’m about to head off for a broom, Tazer comes around with his arm over the shoulder of a thin, long-haired girl. I guess it’s Elicia. He sings loudly to Jaylene, “Hey, Jay, what do you say? Can’t get them both inside your O.J.? So glad you made it!”

Jaylene slaps Tazer’s back. “Yeah! Good to see you here.”

Tazer introduces Elicia to me. “My beautiful date.”

“I’ve heard so many great things about you, Shai.” She’s got large teeth, a long face and vibrant golden eyes.

“Thanks,” I say. “Tazer told me about you, too.” We talk about school, her studies, how she comes from a family of optometrists and the script she and Tazer are writing. “It’s a drama revolving around a teen girl with the natural ability to set fire with her eyes, but she ends up burning the boi she loves to death.” Tazer speaks of planning on having a lot of eye problems to visit her at work more often. Elicia seems smart and feminine-looking with a multicolored skirt and blouse, a touch of makeup and small earring hoops. She’s right up Tazer’s alley, that’s for sure.

“Hey, where’s Rosa?” Tazer’s sparkling eyes roam around the duplex.

“She had to work late,” Jaylene says. “She’s coming later.”

Tazer’s eyebrows leap upward when he sees Gisela. “You’re the waitress at Cha-Cha’s. What’s up?” They all start talking and I send them outdoors. I need to clear my mind. I must erase Gisela from my brain. When a girl’s scent, words, smile, intellect and everything about her captivates you but you can’t do anything about it, it’s probably like being homeless and starved and someone offers you a painting of a bed and a plate of sand molded to look like a steak just to watch you suffer.

As I’m heading to get a broom, Soli comes over with a bag and a broom.
“¿Que pasó?”
She starts sweeping.

I tell her the entire conversation I had with Mami, but leave out that Marlena is trying to contact me.

“Your mom’s a nutcase. I wish you hadn’t told her you were seeing London. She should love you no matter what.” Soli’s right. Her words tear right through me.

I change the subject. I don’t want to feel pain. “Listen, why is this party filled with lesbians? Are you getting back at me for the fight we had ten million years ago? I thought we were
to
tally over that.”

“Shylypop. Don’t be rid
i
culous. I just keep meeting gay girls at work. That’s why the dozens of lesbos here.”

“Oh. I see. I guess straight people are too geeky to like your haircuts, eh?” I nudge her in the ribs and wink.

She raises an eyebrow. “No one can pull the wool over your eyes, Shyly, that’s for sure. So, yes. I’ve got an ulterior motive, but can you blame me?”

“You’re too much, Hootchi Momma.” I can’t get mad at Soli anymore. She goes out of her way to do outrageous things because she loves me so much and thinks she knows what I need and what’s best for me.

She sweeps everything into the bag, places it on top of her CD player, and stands with a hand on her hip, the other holding the tip of the broom, peering into my eyes. “I saw the gleam in your eyes when you were talking to Gisela. It’s the same type of shine you had with Marlena. Give her a chance. You hardly ever feel that intense attraction.” She starts sweeping again.

I grab her arm. “She’s not into makeup, perfume or plastic shit. She’s one hundred percent Green. And she’s into the outdoors, animals, politics and foreign movies, too.” I talk low and let it pour. “Being around her makes me want to fly. I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate and explode.”

“Shit! Shyly, it’s about
damn
time.” She musses my hair.

I lower my head. “But dating her will ruin my life. I just talked to Pedri.” I tell her
every
thing. “I can’t live without him anymore. I just can’t. It’s either Gisela or Pedri. You know girls come and go. Look at Tazer. You thought he was really into me. Now he’s all riled up about Elicia.” I take a deep breath and let out a long, slow exhale. “I need Pedri now more than anything in the world, Soli. I’m this
close
to moving back home and having my family back.”

I get a dustpan from the closet and place it on the floor. She sweeps the dust left from the glass pieces inside it with such a serious face I think I’ve finally talked some sense into her. I pour the contents into the bag.

“It’s so sad you can’t follow your feelings because of your crazy neuro mom. I know how hard it’s been for you to live without Pedri. I hate your choice, but I guess I’m forced to accept it.”

I kiss the tip of her nose. “Thanks so much.” I let out a sigh of relief.

That she understands me, makes a cheerfulness come over me. I know I’m making the right decision to bring a horrible period in my life to a close. I have the will to shut the door to girls for good. If I were swimming right now, I’m sure I’d have started floating.

I glance over at Gisela on the crowded dance floor, swaying her hips from side to side in a belly-dancing style, realizing I’ve made the right decision. I can actually put a stop to my feelings. I’m leaving behind all my troubles to look forward to a better, chaos-free life.

With broom in hand Soli walks away from me and comes back with a
limonada
.

“Cheers to our friendship. I’ll miss you if your psycho mom takes you back. Here. It’s organic. No alcohol, just like you love it. Lots of mint leaves, honey and lemon.”

I take a sip and hand it over to her. “I’ll miss you too. I love you Soli.”

She takes a mouthful. “I love you too, Shyly.”

Soli grabs the bag filled with glass from on top of the CD player, throws it in the trash, stashes the broom in the closet, and goes to find Diego.

Music blasts. Elbows and feet are going this way and that way. Everyone seems to be having fun. I haven’t even
thought
of London for an
in
stant. In a way, I’m glad he’s not here. And the same goes for Marlena. I’m definitely not calling her back or seeing her, ever. She’s history. That’s what she wanted. So be it.

Jaylene comes to me and we hang around talking. “Fun party. It’s like a lesbian bar in here.”

“Yeah. Thank Soli for that.”

She takes a sip of the mango fizz juice and licks her lips. “Too bad you’re not at least bi. You’d have a lot of girls to choose from.” I never told her about Marlena and me at work. We text a lot. Mostly about how she enjoys debating with Che and winning each time. After Tazer’s job, Marco bounced me around all over Miami because of my landscape sketching design skills. He’s got four different crews, one for South Miami, North Miami, the beach and the westernmost parts of Miami. Every once in a while, I work with the same crew, crazy Che included.

Diego comes around. He talks about music videos and recites an on-the-spot poem about Soli as we watch her dance with Gisela, Elicia and Tazer. I can hardly watch Gisela’s movements; she’s so delicious. I love the way she sways her whole body in that smooth, sensual way. I look away and hope Soli’s telling Gisela I’m about to get married to a guy on skid row with six kids.

Soli leaves to pick up Viva and I dance up a storm with everyone
but
Gisela.

Everybody’s eating, dancing and getting to know one another when we hear,
Bang! Bang! Bang!

People in the backyard zoom through the back doors and we cram into the kitchen. I hear Viva’s key in the door.

Adela, Viva’s pudgy best friend, and Soli walk indoors as we rush forward. “
Surprise
!”

“
¡Ay, Santa María madre de Dios!
” Viva cries out. I drape my arms around weepy Viva and give her many kisses. She looks adorable in her flowered polyester pink and green dress and pink flip-flops. She checks out the
piñata
, pulls the cape, and down comes a shower of saints and teeny penises. “
¡Jesucristo!
” The candy flies all over the place and everyone goes wild. Neruda flies to the treats and growls as if the saints were alive.

I put on a salsa tape—a mix of old-timers she loves: Olga Guillot, Albita, Celia Cruz and Tito Puente—Viva’s favorite. Hands are up in the air, hips are moving all over the place. Feet are shuffling this way and that way. People twirl around and around. Soli pulls Diego by the suspenders to the dance floor. He looks dapper with baggy pants, a tight pullover and slicked-back hair. She presses herself against him so tightly, you’d have to peel her off him in order to unglue them.

Gisela comes around and I walk the other way. I’ve got to cut the thread of passion that easily flowed between us so the need to be with her won’t feel unbearable.

A tiny, plump man with bushy gray hair, wrinkly face, sweet wilting eyes, big belly and a twinkle in his smile arrives. He’s wearing a
sombrero de guano,
a
guayabera
and pleated pants.

Soli peels herself from Diego. “Mima, this is Diego’s dad.”

Viva turns rosy red, as if she’d swallowed a beet and it’s leaked inside her cheeks.

“It’s Gabriel. Gabriel Eufemio.” His eyes are glowing, as if he’s seeing Cleopatra rise from a sarcophagus. “Pleased to meet you.” Viva’s face glows.

The party is grand! I spend the rest of the night talking and dancing with everyone except you know who. Jaylene, Tazer and Rosa manage to keep Gisela company all night long. For once in my life I’m headed in the right direction.