SHE LOVES IT!

Joey finally makes it to the school to show Esperanza his mural of her - when -

My blood goes frigid, my heart surges up, and nearly jumps out of my freaking throat. The good feeling, the pleasant trance, is smashed to pieces. God. I’ll look like a total asshole if I bring her all the way down here for nothing!
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Frantically, desperately, I pound the door.
“Somebody open the door!! Somebody open the door!! It’s not four o’clock yet!! It’s not four o’clock yet!!” I shriek, in a sustained blood curdling mania.
I keep banging like that for about a minute, until the bound of heavy footsteps come thumping down the stairs inside. The door crashes open, and the burly figure of Hoss, the security guard, fills up the doorway. His eyes flash with rage.
“What the hell is wrong with you boy?! Are you crazy?!” He rants in his deep southern drawl.
“Hoss – Hoss – listen - I gotta get in, man - please! It’s real important!”
“I said the damn school is closed!!
“But – but –“
“I don’t want to have to tell you again!”
Now, Esperanza appears before him, sashaying sexily up the steps.
Hoss’s eyes light way the fuck up. His attitude does an instant and complete 180, as he just gawks at Esperanza. He’s totally mesmerized.
After about thirty seconds, he regains his composure.
“Well, well now! Why didn’t you just say you had such a beautiful young lady with you, son? Now, that’s a horse of a different color.” he coos in his best Southern gentleman manner, opening the door, and practically bowing.
A horse of a different color? What? Had Hoss just watched The Wizard of Oz, or something?
“Come in, come in - watch your step there now, Miss.”
He takes her hand as he leads her in.
“Archibald Dawkins at your service, ma’am, but you can call me Hoss.” He kisses her hand, as Esperanza steps into the building.
“Hi Hoss, I’m Esperanza,” she giggles flirtatiously.
“Miss Esperanza, if you don’t mind me saying so, may I declare that you are the finest young lady I have ever had the pleasure to lay my eyes upon.” Esperanza titters. I can’t believe she’s tittering at this bullshit.
“Oh, thank you, Hoss, that’s very nice of you.”
“Mmm-mmm, yes indeed”.
I have never heard Hoss say much of anything before, let alone get all fluffy like this.
“We need to go up to the art room, Hoss, OK?” I cut into the hypnosis.
“Sure! Sure, not a problem, young man. Not a problem at all! Come on up.”
His eyes are laser-focused on Esperanza. We bounce up the stairs, Hoss following. His gaze is cemented on her ass, as he is whistling softly to himself.
As we approach the art room, he detaches the ring of keys from his belt loop. Searching for the correct one, he never averts his eyes from Esperanza, a permanent smile creasing his face.
All my hopes, aspirations, and intentions are locked up in my breath, right before we enter. This is the proverbial moment of truth. He opens the door, we glide in, and he turns on the lights.
“Um…there it is, Esperanza,” I choke, as I point to the mural in the back. She looks up at it and stares, her face going completely blank. I’m panting, trying to figure out what she’s thinking.
“Do…do you like it?” I question hesitantly.
“Boy’s a fine artist, Miss Esperanza, a fine artist, yes indeed.” Hoss cuts in.
Suddenly, she just breaks out crying! I mean, really bawling, as she puts her hands up to her face. I stand there paralyzed. Confused, not knowing how to react, and not understanding anything.
“There, there, now, Miss Esperanza, it’s alright, it’s alright.” Hoss offers her the handkerchief from his pocket, and puts his arm around her, comforting her! She melts into his chest, burying her head, weeping, as he continues to console her.
What the fuck?! What the hell is going on here?!
“Es – Esperanza…what’s the matter?”
“Oh papi!” She pries herself away from Hoss’s arms, and now hugs me tightly, sniffling as she talks.
“Oh my God…nobody…nobody ever done anything like this for me before,” she sighs deeply, and begins kissing me all over my face.
“Oh, Dios mio, you are the sweetest thing…”
“You…you like it then?”
“Oh baby, I love it!”
Now she kisses me right on the lips! Sticks her tongue in there, and we are frenching away, for, like, I don’t know, maybe five minutes! I feel like I’m going to faint, and have to make a tremendous effort to steady myself. She recognizes it, and holds me tightly.
Hoss stands there in the background, probably stunned, definitely wishing he was me right now! Now this is the best moment of my life.
“It is so beautiful, baby…thank you, thank you, thank you…”
She alternates from kissing me, to wiping her tears away with the handkerchief.
“I gotta give you another trim, papi,” she says as she gazes at me, running her fingers through my curls

A FANTASY?

It’s second period in Silverstein’s art class now, the next morning, and my heart is heavy. I’m suddenly dissatisfied, disillusioned with my mural. I’m staring up at it. Noticing every imperfection, every mistake I made.

This is shit! She’s gonna hate this! I can’t show her this!  It takes all the strength I have to avoid a full-scale breakdown. I tell Silverstein I have to go to the bathroom, and then pace the halls frantically the next fifteen minutes, trying to breath.

       Three o’clock finally arrives, and I dash out of the school to catch the #59 up to Broad Street. We gotta get back here before 4 o’clock, when they lock the doors. On the ride up I’m anxious, wondering if she’ll even remember I was up there yesterday. If she even knew what was going on at all. I’m supposed to be at work at The Fox Hole by around 4. I’m really putting this whole job in jeopardy. I don’t even know what kind of a state she’s going to be in today.  I hop off on Broad Street at 3:22. We can still make it if everything goes right!

I burst into the shop, trying unsuccessfully to make it look like I’m laid back, ready for anything…

Now, she’s the old Esperanza again! The light is back in her eyes - she has life again! And she is so beautiful. I gaze at her hopefully. She smiles at me, and a glow comes up from my heart. It’s radiating onto my face, and now I’m tingling with anticipation.

“Gimme a minute, baby, and we’ll get out of here, OK?”

The other ladies beam at me, calling out greetings as I smile back, and wave. Esperanza slips on her short-waisted white leather jacket, delicately places her shades on top of her head, and grabs her purse. Every move is graceful again.

“Hasta manyaaana, chicas” she draws it out playfully.

We stride outside together, and I head towards the bus stop. She inexplicably sashays to the other corner.

Where is she going?

Then I realize - the parking lot. Uh-oh. I think that she thinks I have a car. Great. I sprint over to catch up to her, ready to apologize and grovel, and feel like a fool, but she keeps going.

“Esperanza – Esperanza - I don’t-”

We’re in the parking lot now, and she abruptly stops right in front of this white MG Midget Convertible. Brand new. Whoa.

It glistens in the fading sunlight, among all the beat up Dodge Darts and Chevy Impalas. She pulls keys out from her purse.

“This is your car?”

“You know there’s no way I be taking that damn bus, honey, mmm-mmm” -

“Oh my God.”

I mean, I’m definitely not one of those trade-school car freaks, or anything, but this ride is jamming.  Could I be any more in awe of her?

She offers me a stick of Dentyne.  

“You want a Chiclet?”

I don’t know why, but Puerto Ricans always call every kind of gum Chiclets, no matter if it’s Trident, Juicy Fruit, or indeed, Chiclets. I stuff it in my mouth, mainly to keep my jaw from being permanently dropped.

She lights up her ever present Virginia Slim, opens the door, pushes a button that brings the top down, and hops in.

“What are you waiting for, honey?”

She pulls her shades down over her eyes. It’s a nice sunny day for November 3rd.

        It’s a two seater with no other room - the Midget is. She grabs the clutch, peels out of the parking lot, and goes screeching down East Grand Avenue, like Mario Andretti. She’s messing with the radio knob, rifling through all these R&B and Spanish stations, until she hits on this acoustic guitar solo that plays on for, like, ten seconds.

“Oh shit! I love this song!” she cries out happily, cranking up the volume now.                        

“Whoa! That’s the Eagles new jam, I think.”

“I don’t know who this be, papi, I just love it!  Aaaay!”

I grin to myself, because, secretly, I really like the Eagles, also. We have something in common now, too. Yeah. The words break in now, and she starts singing along, but she’s getting all the words wrong, which usually really annoys me, but in this situation…

“There she stood in the doorway

With the mission bell

And I was thinking to myself

This could be heaven or this could be hell…”

“Yeah, Hotel California!” Woo! I cry out gleefully.

We’re cruising down East Grand Avenue in Elizabeth, the late day sun setting in our eyes, the cancerous breeze from the nearby Exxon Bayway refineries blowing through our hair - and it’s all perfect.

Suddenly, she’s Ali McGraw, and I’m Ryan O’Neal, and it’s Love Story, and we’re cruising down the Boulevard in Hollywood, the salty breeze off the Pacific Ocean cooling us off.  This is it. The defining moment of my life.

That whole ride to the school is magic, timeless…

I’ve never felt so - free!  The only thing I have to be conscious of, is to catch myself from permanently fawning over her, as I’m taking it all in.

When we get to the Roselle High parking lot, I leap out of the car, practically prancing my way up the stairs to the green door. Like that freaking leprechaun from those Lucky Charms, commercials. I peer up at the clock in one of the classrooms - it’s only 3:50. Excellent! We still got time. I excitedly go to pull open the door - LOCKED!  What the fuck?!  It can’t be, it’s not four o’clock yet!!

OPERATION RESCUE ESPERANZA

Joey is saddened and distraught to see Esperanza’s appearance when he visits her at Tijeras de Oro, but is determined to get through to her

She gazes at me blankly, lazily.
“Hey baby,” she drawls emotionlessly, at last.
An awkward silent pause follows.
“Uh…do you know who I am?” I feel stupid, exposed, like an eight-year old schoolboy at a MAMBLA (Man-Boy Love Association) convention.
“Yeah, papi…I know who you be” she giggles slightly.
“Um-Esperanza, (I smile brightly now), I got something to…real important… to tell you... to show you”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think we could, like, go outside or something for a minute?”
She smiles laconically.
“Let me finish with this lady here, OK?”
“Te gusta, mami?” She asks her customer.
“Si, pero un poco mas por este lado, ok?” She directs.
Esperanza finishes up in a few more minutes and kind of robotically dusts the chair off with a whisk broom.
“Mi voy a fumar!” she calls out to nobody in particular.
“C’mon, honey – let’s go.”
We’re both outside now, in the little alleyway next to the store, and she’s trying to light her cigarette, but in kind of this absent-minded way, with no particular focus. She’s fumbling with it, making attempt after attempt. I’m cringing now. It’s actually painful to watch. I mean, usually, I could watch her go through that motion all day, she’s so smooth and fluid and sexy. But now… it’s kind of just breaking my heart. Finally, she succeeds in lighting it, and exhaling, watches the rings of smoke become one with the grey polluted air.
She starts giggling.
Frustrations seethes through my chest, building up like a broken pipe ready to blow steam! I want - I need - to get through to her, to connect on some level. I want to bawl at the same time, a bewildering torrent of emotions rocks me. I’m in awe of her, still.
“What do you want to tell me, baby?”
I try to carefully measure my words, an attempt to reach out.
“Esperanza, remember when I made that drawing of you?”
She nods, exhaling skyward.
“Well – um - you liked that, right?”
She nods again.
“Yeah, of course, papi.”
“Ok, check this out…I made something for you that’s way better. Way bigger! It’s like - a monument…
I search her face for any type of reaction.
“The only thing is…it’s at my school…
Do…you…think…you can…um…come to the school? With me?” She giggles, her eyes drooping. I command myself to stay cool, stay focused.
“I’ll pick you up here… and we can go, ok?”
“Yeah baby, of course.” She finally responds.
“When do you want me to come up?”
“Come up…like, tomorrow, ok?”
“Tomorrow…you sure?”
“Yeah”
“Ok, I’m gonna come up tomorrow, right after school, alright? Do you think you can get off around, like, 3:30?”
“Baby, I can do what I want.”
She flicks the butt of her smoked-up cigarette onto the concrete.
“I gotta get back now, papi, I see you tomorrow.”
She drifts away, like the smoke rings from her Virginia Slims, and back into the shop. I half-step down the street, a growing feeling of emptiness, pervading my soul

SADNESS

Joey finally does get up to The Tijeras de Oro, and is heartbroken to find Esperanza in this state.

The next day I have off from The Fox Hole, thank God.  I’ve already decided that I’m going up to see Esperanza after school, no matter what, and whatever happens, happens. Fuck it. I hop on that bus with a mission. Farting, burping, the whole mess, people gawking at me, making disgusted faces. I don’t care. I have two Polaroid pictures of the mural that I had snapped with my mother’s camera the night, or morning actually, that we finished it, nestled securely in my pocket. I want Esperanza to see what I’ve done for her, the tribute of my love to her. She’s just gonna have to forgive me for inadvertently breaking our date a while back. There’s nothing I can do about the past. I hesitate timidly at the front window of the shop, as usual, trying to summon up the guts to go in, and do this thing. There she is at her chair, cutting hair, her back to me, this time clad in her winter garb. She displays no skin for the first time since I had initially seen her, but still, she’s unbelievably hot! Maybe even more so now. Off-white angora sweater, black leggings or tights (I don’t know which), and kick-ass ankle-length, high-heeled boots. Stop drooling, asshole.  

I skip inside, with apparently nobody noticing me. They’re all busy with their customers, and the meringue beat seems to be playing extra loud.  

I ease my way into one of the chairs, waiting for her to turn around, both anxious and dreading what her reaction might be. Oh no! Oh shit! Not again. I can’t fucking believe it. That look again. That same look as the other time I came up here, when she was on the phone and walked out. Her eye is drooping, the energy gone. Anger and resentment flash through me. She looks right through me, right over me, glazed, with no sign of cognizance.  

It reminds me - painfully - that this is the look that started me off on this whole campaign to ‘prove’ myself to her. The whole reason I even get the job at The Fox Hole, risked my ass to paint the mural, practically the total reason I’ve done everything I did. Maybe to prove to her, in some subconscious way, that I could rescue her. Or maybe rescue myself. My first impulse is to just get up, and walk out right now.  Another impulse is to scream at her. I suppress both. Who am I to say anything to her, anyway? A warm stream of sympathy, of empathy, suddenly melts into my heart, but still…I finally get up and go over to her chair.

“Hi, Esperanza…um - remember me?” I ask in my most hopeful, animated, and somewhat sarcastic tone.