Black Alley by Mauricio Segura Read Free Book Online

¡huy! Flaco’s looking worried!
    After a minute, he feels someone squeeze his shoulders, stroke his chest, give him little kisses on the neck. He recognizes the delicate fingers and their manicured nails, the smell of her peach-scented soap and turns towards her. Without giving him a chance to say a word, she whispers in his ear not to get mad, she wanted to see if he really cared about her, and she gives him a wink, she’s satisfied now, corazón . He studies her face for a moment, unsure if he should get angry or laugh. Finally, he takes her by the waist and kisses her right on the mouth. Around them, there’s whistling and clapping, and Teta dances his way over: hey, you lovebirds, cut it out, you’re making me wanna do it myself! The others laugh good naturedly, and Flaco and Paulina step back from each other, lowering their eyes, their arms around one another’s waists. He smiles: this is his real family! Then he sees Lalo, with a beer in his hand, as he walks, unsteadily, to sit away from the group on the grass. He’s completely out of it, he thinks.
    All of a sudden, above the Nirvana guitar solo and the rapid, wet-sounding noise of the passing cars, people are murmuring
around him. Flaco turns around: with lowered heads and hunched shoulders, Pato and Alfonso are making their way towards them. Something’s not right, that much is obvious. As they come to a stop in the light of the streetlamp, Flaco notices Pato’s nose is dripping blood and Alfonso has a black eye. Their arrival brings Lalo back to life: someone turns down the radio, and he rushes over to his brother. Despite his sniffling, Pato tells them what happened somewhat proudly, although Alfonso continues to whine. When Pato says they hit them, Lalo turns towards Flaco: did you hear that? A moment later, staggering like he just got off a ride in an amusement park, Lalo finally slumps down onto the grass.
    Pato’s news surprises them. Not even two weeks ago, Latino Power signed a peace treaty with the Bad Boys. It was getting so you couldn’t be out in the neighbourhood without worrying about getting hit over the head with a baseball bat. The two sides had agreed there’d be no more stealing from each other, no more fighting, no more rivalry over girls or territory – they’d continue to share Parc Kent, as they had for the last year or so. Now Pato, in an astonishingly clear voice, tells them how he broke into CB’s locker and robbed him. Ah, that makes things clearer. Alfonso, who still hasn’t said a word, explains that the Bad Boys beat them up because they’d laughed at a joke about Blacks in Vietnam. Flaco finally gets it, he’s well acquainted with CB’s little games.
    â€œAnd you say you gave him back his cap and his sunglasses?” he asks.
    They answer yes. With the blood now partly coagulated under his nose, Pato stares at him again, looking strangely sure of himself. Without undoing his pants, he shoves his hand in like he’s going to scratch his dick, making the others laugh. What the hell’s he doing? The half-circle that had formed around the boy tightens. He pulls out a chain and waves it under Flaco’s nose. Flaco takes it in his hand and contemplates its weight for a long time, like he’s hypnotized.

    â€œThe condor was in his locker, too,” Pato explains. “As soon as I saw it, I figured it was something that had been stolen from a Latino. I did the right thing when I kept it, didn’t I?”
    How many years has it been since the last time he saw that condor, Flaco wonders. He’d completely forgotten about it. He turns towards Alfonso. “See, what did I tell you? He can’t believe that a couple of wusses like us pulled it off!”
    Flaco examines the boy’s face: his scratches, his bloody nose, and his smile, all make him look sinister. They really roughed them up! They sure didn’t hold back!
    â€œSo,