Page 42 of Capicú Summer
“Get the fuck out of my house,” I bark out, bracing for another fight.
Only I didn’t have to.
Lenny chuckles, picking up his aviator shades that lay discarded on the floor. He stops in front of the antique mirror hanging off the wall to fix the collar of his red polo. Just as my cousin makes it to the door, an idea sprouts in my head. It’s juvenile and silly, but I know Lenny and no Cruz backs down from a bet. No matter how stuck up the mayor’s ass, a Cruz plays fair. A Cruz plays to win.
“Tirame una ficha?”* I call out.
He pauses, his hand hovering above the doorknob. “You sure you want that smoke, primo?”
I click my tongue, hearing the smirk on his words. “Been waiting years for it. Now put your mouth where the table is. If I win, forget about Altura. Forget about Adri. Fucking disappear.”
Lenny turns then, a grin painted on his face. “Y si yo gano?”*
I meet his gaze, and shrug. “Then you get the store.” This time, he doesn’t respond. He laughs, low and cruel, before stepping into the sunlight. And something tells me, this the beginning to the end of it all by the end of the summer, Altura will either thrive or cease to exist.
* Luto - mourning
* Todo comenzo bailando - Everything started with a dance.
* Yo estaba ciega - I was blind.
* Porque te fuiste? - Why did you leave?
* aveces, no resultan - Sometimes they don’t work out.
* “Porque te amo. Porque tu eres la unica mujer que deseo y que adoro.” - Because I love you. Because you’re the only woman that I want and adore.
* Mami, tengo hambre y te quiero comer. - Mami, I’m hungry and I want to eat.
* No lo llames Adri - Don’t call him, Adri.
* Tu eres la gloria - You are the glory
* “Te voy a matar, mamabicho,” - I’m going to kill you, you cocksucker.
* Pero como lo sigues lo perdien - How you get them is how you lose them.
* Callate - Shut up.
* “Tirame una ficha?” - Throw me a chip?
* “Y si yo gano?” - And if I win?
CHAPTER 18
Adriana
I stare out the window, watching as the girls double dutch across the street. Two long white ropes move like waves catching the last sliver of golden light as they slap against the asphalt. The two girls inside clap hands mid-jump, their laughter rising above the music—the kind of joy that stirs memories I’ve tucked away for years. Estrella and me, barefoot on the hot asphalt, playing the numbers game while balancing on one foot. Oh how things change. Back then, I thought we would be friends forever, comadres* even. And now, she can’t bear the sight of me, all because we fell in love with the same person.
Despite everything, there she is—dancing merengue, hips swaying in perfect rhythm with Manny, her white t-shirt printed with my Abuelo’s picture. The sight pulls something deep in my chest, a mix of nostalgia and ache. A feeling that erases years of silence between us.
The neighborhood hums with music, every speaker tuned to all of my Abuelo's favorites. Hector Lavoe. Anthony Santos. Juan Luis Guerra. Songs that sound like home. Everyone is out on the block, showing the kind of love that never dies even when the body does.
Ruben is already outside, still dressed in black, wearing a T-shirt printed with a photo of him and our grandfather sitting on his favorite sofa. He nurses a white styrofoam cup, and I know without asking what’s inside. Mamajuana, a traditional spiced alcoholic drink from back home that consists of herbs, roots, and barks infused with rum, honey and wine. Abuelo has spent years curing his, swearing it will cure any heartbreak and cause no hangover. A laugh works its way up my chest, as I recite the words he would say whenever he poured a shot.
“Cuando yo muera, esto es para eso. Curar el dolor con el alcohol.”*
Abuelo was honorable, kind, and always ready with a joke that could turn any pain into laughter. Even now, his spirit lingers in this house—in the walls that held his daughters, in the air that carried his grandchildren’s laughter as we played. Everything he had was dedicated to his bodega and family. Which is why I’ve decided that it won’t be Yael facing off against Lenny, but me—for my pride, for my family, for love.
