to do it,” she said, trying to justify herself.
“Maybe that’s true, but O is out there somewhere probably getting fucked up or shot up or just lying somewhere dead, and you…” I burst into tears again.
“Celess, I know you hurt and everything, but that’s the game. Shit, I saw my whole family murdered behind that shit,” Tina said with attitude. “After a while you just learn to suck shit up.”
Tina could play tough all she wanted, but I knew walking in and seeing her mom, dad, and older brother dead in pools of blood cut her deep. She was only ten. Can you imagine seeing something like that at ten? She swears it had no lasting impact on her, but I’m not sure. The fact that she pretends like she doesn’t care about anything or anybody is the result of seeing her murdered family’s bodies at ten years old, among other things.
“Tina, it’s easier said than done,” I said, ignoring her façade.
“Well, be like Nike and just do it, hah!” she said, giggling, with a huge smile on her face. She slapped my leg in a joking, playful way.
“What DVDs you got?”
I just gave Tina a blank look and felt sorry for her.
Tina’s visit ended as awkward as it began. I was still depressed, and she gave up trying to make me feel better.
It was a rainy Monday. I had been sitting in the house all morning contemplating what I was going to do about my car. I had the registration. It was in somebody named Carolyn Rodriguez’s name. It had her address, so I decided to go to her house.
A short, chubby Puerto Rican girl came to the door. “Who you?”
“I’m Celess, Omar’s friend,” I said, trying not to offend anybody.
“Mommy! Una muchacha a la puerta. Una amiga de Omar, ” the girl yelled.
I waited at the door while a heavyset older-looking woman slowly walked down the stairs. She had long dark hair and a chubby face. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt that came past her knees and a pair of slippers.
“Come in, sit down,” Carolyn said with a heavy Puerto Rican accent.
I walked into the small row house. “Hi, I’m Celess, a friend of Omar’s,” I introduced myself as I took a seat on the black leather couch beside Carolyn.
“Yeah, I know who you are,” Carolyn said, looking me over. “Omar told me about ju. You one of the girls from Philly, right?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Which car you have?” she asked while motioning for her daughter to give her some papers from off the sixty-inch television in their tiny living room. “The Range Rover, the Escalade, or the Lexus?” she continued as she rummaged through the papers.
I was confused but I told her, “The Range Rover.”
“Right, right.”
“Here is all the papers for the Range Rover, where you can make you payments to and everything, okay?”
I took the pile of papers from Carolyn, but I stayed put on the sofa. I wanted to know more. It didn’t make sense for me to take a half-hour trip in the rain and go back with no information.
“Did they ever find O?” I asked carefully.
Carolyn looked at me, baffled. “Ju didn’t hear?”
“No, not really,” I answered.
“Marisol, espera en la cocina, ” Carolyn said to her daughter.
The girl left the room and headed for the kitchen.
“The police came by here like a week ago because they found his car and it’s registered to my address.”
Tears started to gather in Carolyn’s eyes. She continued, “It was a robbery, they say, all of his seats was slashed and his trunk was open. They got his drugs and his money,” she whispered. “But they couldn’t find him.
“Then I got a call from a detective and he asked me all these questions about all the cars in my name. I told him Omar was my nephew. I raised him like my own, and when he asked me to put a car in my name as long as it’s not illegal, I say yes,” she spilled.
“Then like a day or two later the detective called back,” Carolyn began, with tears forming again. “And they told me his body was found
“Maybe that’s true, but O is out there somewhere probably getting fucked up or shot up or just lying somewhere dead, and you…” I burst into tears again.
“Celess, I know you hurt and everything, but that’s the game. Shit, I saw my whole family murdered behind that shit,” Tina said with attitude. “After a while you just learn to suck shit up.”
Tina could play tough all she wanted, but I knew walking in and seeing her mom, dad, and older brother dead in pools of blood cut her deep. She was only ten. Can you imagine seeing something like that at ten? She swears it had no lasting impact on her, but I’m not sure. The fact that she pretends like she doesn’t care about anything or anybody is the result of seeing her murdered family’s bodies at ten years old, among other things.
“Tina, it’s easier said than done,” I said, ignoring her façade.
“Well, be like Nike and just do it, hah!” she said, giggling, with a huge smile on her face. She slapped my leg in a joking, playful way.
“What DVDs you got?”
I just gave Tina a blank look and felt sorry for her.
Tina’s visit ended as awkward as it began. I was still depressed, and she gave up trying to make me feel better.
It was a rainy Monday. I had been sitting in the house all morning contemplating what I was going to do about my car. I had the registration. It was in somebody named Carolyn Rodriguez’s name. It had her address, so I decided to go to her house.
A short, chubby Puerto Rican girl came to the door. “Who you?”
“I’m Celess, Omar’s friend,” I said, trying not to offend anybody.
“Mommy! Una muchacha a la puerta. Una amiga de Omar, ” the girl yelled.
I waited at the door while a heavyset older-looking woman slowly walked down the stairs. She had long dark hair and a chubby face. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt that came past her knees and a pair of slippers.
“Come in, sit down,” Carolyn said with a heavy Puerto Rican accent.
I walked into the small row house. “Hi, I’m Celess, a friend of Omar’s,” I introduced myself as I took a seat on the black leather couch beside Carolyn.
“Yeah, I know who you are,” Carolyn said, looking me over. “Omar told me about ju. You one of the girls from Philly, right?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Which car you have?” she asked while motioning for her daughter to give her some papers from off the sixty-inch television in their tiny living room. “The Range Rover, the Escalade, or the Lexus?” she continued as she rummaged through the papers.
I was confused but I told her, “The Range Rover.”
“Right, right.”
“Here is all the papers for the Range Rover, where you can make you payments to and everything, okay?”
I took the pile of papers from Carolyn, but I stayed put on the sofa. I wanted to know more. It didn’t make sense for me to take a half-hour trip in the rain and go back with no information.
“Did they ever find O?” I asked carefully.
Carolyn looked at me, baffled. “Ju didn’t hear?”
“No, not really,” I answered.
“Marisol, espera en la cocina, ” Carolyn said to her daughter.
The girl left the room and headed for the kitchen.
“The police came by here like a week ago because they found his car and it’s registered to my address.”
Tears started to gather in Carolyn’s eyes. She continued, “It was a robbery, they say, all of his seats was slashed and his trunk was open. They got his drugs and his money,” she whispered. “But they couldn’t find him.
“Then I got a call from a detective and he asked me all these questions about all the cars in my name. I told him Omar was my nephew. I raised him like my own, and when he asked me to put a car in my name as long as it’s not illegal, I say yes,” she spilled.
“Then like a day or two later the detective called back,” Carolyn began, with tears forming again. “And they told me his body was found
Similar Books
