“I need some air. I’ll be back later.” Pushing against the screen door, I didn’t look back.
Without a destination, I let my feet and frustration guide me, ending up at a tiny park ten blocks from our house. It wasn’t safe there after dark, so no kids were around, just a few older folks from the dilapidated senior housing place by the highway trudging out to let their dogs take shits, along with the addicts and homeless people who seemed to occupy every park bench and staircase in the city after the sun went down.
I sat down on the lonely swing set, digging my toes into the dusty bark below as I twisted the rusted chains in circles.
A few minutes later, Chi-chi Mendoza arrived. He gave me an upnod from thirty feet away before walking in my direction.
Chi-chi was older than me. He’d been in the same class as my brother Fernando, and Nando was twenty-four now. I remembered Chi-chi being a little punk, dealing dime bags by the bleachers and mouthing off a lot. He once tried to date my sister Justina until Mamá threatened to take away her phone. Turned out, she liked the idea of dating the school bad boy less than she liked having access to her texts. Chi-chi lived in hisabuela’s old house, not far from ours, but I hadn’t seen him up close in a few years. In the unlit park, he looked the same as before. Short and stocky with dark tan skin that shone in the moonlight thanks to his clean-shaven jaw.
“You need something?” he asked, pointing at the black backpack he carried.
“Nah.”
Folks in the neighborhood acted like Chi-chi was some sort of big-time gangster. Mamá and Pop had warned me to stay away from him more than once. But how important could he be if he was hanging around the park?
An old maroon sedan pulled up to the curb. Two guys in black hoodies got out, walking on the path beside us. Chi-chi went over, moving them into the shadows before he pulled something from his backpack. Whatever he gave them looked bigger than a dime bag, and I realized it was the reason he was here. Not to deal to random teenagers on the swings. I was curious but kept my head down. Not my fucking business.
I figured Chi-chi would leave after that. But he didn’t. He came back over to me.
“You’re Nando and Emilio’s little brother, right?”
I huffed. “I’m also Justina, Angelina, and Raymond’s little brother.”
Chi-chi grinned with crooked white teeth. “Lo siento.” He sat down on the swing next to me. “You sure you don’t need something,bróder?”
“Nah. I smoke sometimes, but not feeling it tonight. I don’t mess with anything else.”
He pumped his legs a little, and the swing moved backward. “Just wanna stay pissed, huh?”
My boot dug into the bark. “Fight with my pops.” I almost added that it was about my grades but stopped myself. It seemed like such a kid thing to get upset about.
Chi-chi grunted. “Yeah. I guess it’s tough keeping Daddy Decker happy.”
“Something like that.”
He hoisted his backpack on his shoulder. “Well, if you want to kick it at my house sometime, just stop by.”
“Really?” I asked, coughing away my high pitch.
I knew about Chi-chi’s house. Everyone did. On weekends, the street outside his little broken-down bungalow was so full of cars people couldn’t pull into their own driveways, and music blasted out until early morning. Neighbors had given up on calling the cops a long time ago. Even with my attitude and tendency to find trouble, I hadn’t thought about getting an invite. But I didn’t want to seem too eager.
“Sure,” Chi-chi replied. “My boys are always around. I’ll tell them you’re chill.” His gaze hardened. “You are chill, right?”
I stopped moving, meeting his eyes. “I’m good.”
“Yeah…” He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I thought you might be.” Chi-chi’s shoulders eased. He pulled cigarettes from the inside pocket of his coat. Tapping the pack, he held it out to me. I shook my head.
He shrugged. “I’ve seen you around with your boys. On the court and at the little market on Twelfth.” Putting the cigarette to his lips, he cupped the lighter in his hand and clicked the flame on. “Your friend drives, right?”
“Cruz, uh-huh.”
“Hmm.” He puffed on the cigarette, blowing the smoke into the air. “Well, you can bring them to my place on Saturday if you’re down. After ten. There’ll be people from the neighborhood. And other friends of mine.”
Chi-chi took it for granted that I knew where he lived. Why wouldn’t he? My heartbeat sped up. This was probably a terrible idea. Cruz, Eliazar, Johnny, and I had gotten into our share of mischief, but that wasn’t the same as hanging out with the neighborhood dealer. Still, the idea of going someplace where I wasn’t constantly being nagged at or reminded of all the ways I didn’t measure up had its appeal.
“Yeah, maybe.”
Chi-chi chuckled. “Ten o’clock,compadre.”
