To the Last Man I Slept with and All the Jerks Just Like Him (14 page)

Tony remembers Tina’s face when that pervert was messing with her. Not just like she didn’t want to be there, but like she wasn’t there. Like she just spaced out and went somewhere else in her mind. Good thing that guy was just a punk who wouldn’t really do anything. Tony’s seen him before, trying to pick up girls at all the bus stops from here to 20th.

It’s the afternoon of that same day. He’s sitting at the drugstore counter, drinking a cherry Coke that he won’t have to pay for because Neno, the old guy who runs the counter, wants to suck up to Tony’s brother. Tony ignores the way Neno smiles at him every time he comes by with his dirty rag.

He thinks about Tina standing there trying to pet that stupid cat through the gate, and he has to laugh. She’s just like Danny was—always trying to pet some damned animal. Always noticing some squirrel, bird, lizard. . . . She’d probably want to pet a baby alligator, if you let her.

And her face got like Danny’s, too, when people told her shit. Scared and then blanked out—not there.

His dad picked on Danny most because he was the easiest. He’d call him a little faggot, and Danny wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t even look mad. Then he’d hit Danny across the head and laugh when Danny still didn’t do anything. Only a tear would leak down from his eye.

It’s a good thing their father’s gone. Everything’s as good as it can be for them now. Manuel’s doing good, making money. Louis is in the Army and he’s probably going to stay past the four years. Too bad Georgie’s dead and Danny’s where he is. But still, they’re doing good. Tony used to wonder if he should leave, try to join the army, too. But instead, he keeps on staying with his mom. He doesn’t want her to be alone and afraid.

Tony holds out a dollar to pay for his Coke. Neno waves it away, tries to put his hand on Tony’s, but Tony pulls his back, first. He gets up to go, not having any plan as to where he’ll actually be.

He used to wonder why his mom married an asshole like their father. Then he figured out that there probably just wasn’t anybody else.

He thinks of all the guys who live in the neighborhood now. He hopes Tina moves away before it’s too late.

Two nights after the bus stop incident, Tina’s in the kitchen with her grandmother.

“Grandma, do you know that guy Crazy Tony?”

“You mean Mrs. Hernández’s boy?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t call him Crazy like that. It’s ugly.”

“So, he’s not crazy?” Tina wipes a bit of potato from the big spoon and licks her finger.

“Well . . . .” Her grandmother frowns, a small change from her normal expression. “Not crazy like your mother, no.”

“So what happened to him?”

“I don’t know for sure. You remember all that stuff that happened with his daddy? Well, they said it scrambled his brains.”

“What stuff that happened with his dad?” Tina asks.

“Put some more mayonnaise. Not that much. That’s good. Well . . . I guess you were too young to remember. His father used to come home drunk and hit him and his brothers and Mrs. Hernández. I heard he did other stuff, too, to the youngest boy. Nasty stuff.”

“Like what?” Tina says, letting go of the spoon.

“You know . . . molested him. Or that’s what they said. Who knows? You know how people are.”

“So then what happened? Where’s the dad now?”

“Smash up those eggs better,” says her grandmother. “I don’t like thick eggs in my potato salad. Nobody knows where he is. The oldest brother, Manuel, beat the heck out of him one night. Sometimes they say he killed him, but we would have heard the ambulance. Or the police. I think he just went off to live with some woman.”

Tina stirred pickles, salt and pepper into the bowl, then covered it with plastic wrap.

“Grandma, do you think the dad molested Tony, too, and that’s why they call him Crazy?”

“I don’t know,
m’ija.
I couldn’t tell you.”

“Why do you think their dad was like that?” Tina says.

“I don’t know
m’ija.
Well, probably because his father did it to him. The other day on
Donahue
they had women who had been sexually abused, and the doctor was saying that sometimes it happens like that—like a cycle. And that it happens all the time.”

“Really?” Tina says. “Did it ever happen to you?”

“Of course,” says her grandmother. “I had big boobs and big
nalgas,
like you. Men always wanted to touch them.”

“But did it ever happen with somebody in your family?”

“Yes . . . with one of my uncles. When we were staying at his ranch in the summer, to pick blackberries.” Her grandmother wrinkles her nose, waves her hand as if at a fly. “He was always sweaty . . . breathing on my neck. I hated the way he smelled.”

Tina waits, but that’s all she gets.

“So what happened? How did it end?”

“Well, I told him to quit it, of course. And then we moved back with my mother when the summer was over.”

Tina frowns and picks at her thumbnail.

“M’ija
. . . .”

“Yeah, Grandma?”

“M’ija,
if any of the boys around here ever messes with you—or if the men do—tell me, okay? I’ll put a stop to it.”

Tina lets out the breath that she’s been holding. She takes a bigger breath and opens her mouth to speak, but her grandmother beats her to it.

“Or, if you don’t want to tell me, tell Rudy, and
he’ll
put a stop to it.”

Tina closes her mouth again.

“Rudy will beat the heck out of anybody who messes with you. He knows how to respect women. I raised that boy right.”

Tina doesn’t feel like going home. It’s humid outside, but at least there’s a breeze, unlike in her house. She’s walking around the streets. Melissa went to a church youth group meeting, so there’s no use trying to hang out with her. Tina looks at all the trees that have bloomed in the last couple of weeks and the flowers and Virgin Mary’s in Mrs. López’s yard, and the bugs, the lizards, the earthworms . . .

There’s a cat under a car. Tina calls to it. It meows and rubs its face against the tire. Tina reaches. It saunters out, but then quickly walks away.

“Aw, come on,” she tells it.

It makes a quick figure 8 under her touch, then walks out of reach again. Tina tries to scratch its chin, but it just meows in a slightly alarmed way and pretends to try to bite her.

“You have to pet the body.”

She looks up and sees Tony there.

“Huh?”

“They like it when you pet the body first, then the head.”

Tina stands with her legs and arms crossed, looking down at the cat. She almost wants to try Crazy Tony’s advice, but she wishes he wasn’t there to see.

The cat walks towards him and crashes into his leg. He strokes it along the back. It arches its back against his hand, circles his legs. A boy hoots as he rides by on his bike and the cat bolts under the car again.

“I guess it didn’t want you to pet the body, either,” Tina says.

“Sometimes they don’t,” says Tony. He laughs a little.

“What am I gonna do, make it stand there and let me touch it? C’mere, kitty . . . . Nah. I don’t want to piss it off. Those things can scratch the crap out of you.”

Tina laughs. She looks at Tony, imagining him trying to stroke and kiss a cat that’s scratching the crap out of him. She doesn’t notice when the cat slinks away into Mrs. López’s yard.

Tony sees her looking at him, smiling like that. He looks to see where the cat has gone, wiping his hand over his forehead. When he pulls his hand back down, she’s still smiling. He tries to look her in the eyes, but doesn’t know if he’s smiling back at her or just twitching. He runs his hand through his hair.

“Uh . . . I . . . I gotta go. My mom . . . she . . .”

Goddamned stuttering. He quits before he embarrasses himself any more.

Tina watches him stumble over a stick as he walks away. She has to laugh again. He’s not crazy. He’s cute.

It’s Sunday morning. Tina and her friend Melissa are walking to the house to get some clothes and records for that night. They discuss the upcoming school dance and the lies Melissa will have to tell her parents in order to go. Tina still hasn’t decided whether she’ll go or not. She’ll have to ask her grandmother, who will have to ask her dad, if he’s at home and awake. Her dad will probably say no.

They turn the corner next to Tina’s house and see Manuel and Rudy yelling at each other in the middle of the street.

“I told you, Rudy . . .”

“Say that again, man! Say it to my face!”

Rudy, obviously high, shoves Manuel as hard as he can. Manuel doesn’t fall back, just punches Rudy in the face, knocking him to the ground. Tina and Melissa stop at the edge of the yard, as enthralled as everyone watching from the windows up and down the street.

“Quit it! Quit it!” Tina’s grandmother yells, running out the front door with a broom held business-side-up above her head.

Manuel turns to face her.

“You get out of here! Nobody messes with my grandson!” she yells at him, swinging her weapon as if to swat him like a roach.

Manuel pulls back under it, but doesn’t turn away. She half-swats again, then holds the broom over her shoulder like a baseball bat, glaring at him.

“Mrs. Chávez, I’m sorry to do this in front of your house. I don’t mean you any disrespect. But you have to understand . . . I gave Rudy a job and then he stole from me.”

She stares at him, words rushing to her lips and then dying away.

“I don’t play that, Mrs. Chávez. I don’t take that from anybody.”

Tina’s grandmother sighs and puts the broom down at her side. Manuel looks down at the street respectfully.

Rudy struggles up from the cement.

“Fuck you, man! I’ll kick your fucking ass, you asshole!”

“Rudy, go inside,” says his grandmother.

“Nah, man . . . I’m gonna kill this motherfucker!”

“Rudy. Go inside,” says his grandmother, taking the broom in both hands again.

Rudy goes inside, muttering. Everyone else is silent until the door closes behind him. Then Manuel gets into his Camaro and drives away.

Tina’s grandmother waddles to the porch, and sets the broom next to her on the steps. She takes her cigarettes and lighter from the pocket of her housedress.

Tina bites her lip, not sure what to do or what to say to her friend. This is almost as bad as finding her mother here.

Not to Melissa, though.

“Oh, my God . . .” she whispers. “I am totally in love.”