Perfect Chemistry

After having Brittany speed out of the body shop to get away from me, I’m not feeling like talking and hope to avoid mi’amá when I get home. But one glance at the living room sofa puts that wish to rest.

The television is off, the lights are low, and my brothers have probably been sent to our bedroom.

“Alejandro,” she starts. “I didn’t want this life for us.”

“I know.”

“I hope Brittany doesn’t put ideas in your head that shouldn’t be there.”

I shrug. “Like what? That she hates I’m in a gang? You may not have chosen this life for me, but you sure as hell didn’t protest when I got jumped in.”

“Don’t talk like that, Alejandro.”

“Because the truth is too painful? I’m in a gang to protect you and my brothers, Mamá. You know that, even though we don’t talk about it,” I say, my voice getting louder to match my frustration. “It’s a choice I made a long time ago. You can pretend you didn’t encourage me, but,” I pull off my shirt, revealing my Latino Blood tattoos, “look at me real good. I’m a gangbanger, just like Papá. You want me to deal drugs, too?”

Tears stream down her face. “If I thought there was another way—”

“You were too scared to leave this shithole, and now we’re stuck. Don’t put your guilt on me, or my girl.”

“That’s not fair,” she says, rising.

“What’s not fair is you livin’ like a widow in perpetual mourning since Papá died. Why don’t we move back to Mexico? Tell Uncle Julio he wasted his life’s savings sendin’ us to America. Or are you afraid to go back to Mexico and tell your family that you failed here?”

“We are not having this discussion.”

“Open your eyes.” I stretch my arms out wide. “What do you have here worth stayin’ for? Your sons? ’Cause that’s a copout. Is this the image of the American Dream to you?” I point to the shrine of my father. “He was a gangbanger, not a saint.”

“He had no choice,” she cries. “He protected us.”

“And now I’m protectin’ us. You gonna have a shrine of me when I get whacked? And Carlos? Because he’s next in line, you know. And Luis after him.”

Mi’amá slaps me hard, then backs away. Dios mío, I hate that I upset her. I reach out to her, my fingers wrapping around her arm to hug her and apologize, but she winces. “Mamá?” I question, wondering what’s wrong. I wasn’t rough with her, but she’s acting like I was.

She wrenches herself out of my grasp and turns away, but I can’t let it go. I step forward and lift up the sleeve of her dress. To my horror I find a nasty bruise on her upper arm. Its purple, black, and blue hues stare back at me, and my mind rushes back to the wedding when I saw my mom and Hector in a private discussion.

“Hector did this to you?” I question softly.

“You have to stop asking questions about your papá,” she tells me, quickly pulling down her sleeve to cover the bruise.

Rage rumbles in my gut and spreads as I realize mi’amá got bruised as a warning to me. “Why? Who is Hector trying to protect?” Is he protecting someone in the LB, or another gang member affiliated with the LB? I wish I could just ask Hector. Even more, I’d like to retaliate and kick his ass for hurting my mom, but Hector is untouchable. We all know if I challenge Hector, it’ll be as if I’m turning on the Blood.

She glares at me. “Don’t question me on this. There are things you don’t know, Alejandro. Things you should never know. Just let it go.”

“You think living in ignorance is a good thing? Papá was a gang member who dealt drugs. I’m not afraid of the truth, dammit. Why is everyone around me covering up the truth?”

My hands feel clammy as I hold them stiffly at my sides. A sound from the hallway catches my attention. I turn to see my two brothers, their eyes wide in confusion.

Fuck.

As soon as she sees Luis and Carlos, she sucks in a breath. I’d do anything to take the hurt away from her.

I step toward her and put my hand gently on her shoulder. “Perdón, Mamá.”

She swipes my hand away as she suppresses a sob and runs to her room, slamming the door behind her.

“Is it true?” Carlos asks, his voice as tight as a noose.

I nod. “Yeah.”

Luis shakes his head and furrows his brows in confusion. “What are you two saying? I don’t understand. I thought Papá was a good man. Mamá always said he was a good man.”

I walk over to my little brother and pull his head into my chest.

“It’s all lies!” Carlos blurts out. “You, him. It’s all lies. ¡Mentiras!”

“Carlos . . . ,” I say, releasing Luis and grabbing Carlos’s arm.

Carlos looks at my hand in disgust, his temper seething. “And all along I thought you joined the Latino Blood to protect us. But you’re just following in Papá’s footsteps. Screw being a hero. You like being an LB, but you forbid me to join. Isn’t that a bit hypocritical, brother?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re a disgrace to this family, you know that, don’t you?”

As soon as I lessen my grip on him, Carlos punches open the back door and storms out.

Luis’s quiet voice breaks the silence. “Sometimes good men need to do things that aren’t good. Right?”

I ruffle his hair. Luis is way more innocent than I was at his age. “You know, I think you’re gonna be the smartest Fuentes yet, little bro. Now go to bed and let me talk to Carlos.”

I find Carlos sitting on our back stoop, which faces our neighbor’s yard.

“Is that how he died?” he asks as I sit beside him. “In a drug deal?”

“Yeah.”

“He took you along?”

I nod.

“You were only six years old, the bastard.” Carlos cynically blows out a breath. “You know, I saw Hector today at the basketball courts on Main Street.”

“Stay away from him. Truth is, I had no choice after Papá died, and now I’m stuck. If you think I’m in the LB ’cause I like it, guess again. I don’t want you jumped in.”

“I know.”

I give him a stern look like our mother used to give me when I put tennis balls in her panty hose and flung them to see how high they’d fly . “Listen to me, Carlos, and listen good. Concentrate on school so you can go to college. Make somethin’ of yourself.” Unlike me.

There’s a long silence.

“Destiny doesn’t want me to join, either. She wants to go to some university and get a nursing degree.” He chuckles. “She said it would be great if we went to the same university.” I listen, because he needs me to stop giving advice and let him figure the rest out on his own. “I like Brittany, you know,” he says.

“Me, too.” I think of earlier, when we were in the car. I got carried away, big-time. I hope I haven’t screwed everything up with her, too.

“I saw Brittany talkin’ to Mamá at the wedding. She held her own.”

“To tell you the truth, she kind of had a meltdown in the bathroom.”

“For someone so smart, you’re loco if you think you can handle everything.”

“I’m tough,” I tell Carlos. “And always prepared for danger.”

Carlos pats my back. “Somehow, brother, I think dating a girl from the north side is tougher than being in a gang.”

It’s the perfect opening to tell my brother the truth. “Carlos, you see guys in the LB who talk of brotherhood and honor and loyalty and it sounds great. But they’re not family, you know. And the brotherhood lasts only as long as you’re willing to do what they want you to do.”

My mom opens the door and looks down at us. She looks so sad. I wish I could change her life and take the hurt away, but I know I can’t.

“Carlos, let me talk to Alejandro alone.”

When Carlos is inside the house, out of hearing range, my mom sits beside me. She has a cigarette in her hand, the first one I’ve seen her smoke in a long time.

I’m waiting for her to talk first. I’ve said enough tonight.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Alejandro,” she says as she blows cigarette smoke up at the moon. “And some of them can’t be undone no matter how much I pray to the Lord above.” She reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ears. “You’re a teenager who has the responsibilities of a man. I know it’s not fair to you.”

“Está bien.”

“No, it’s not. I grew up too fast, too. I didn’t even graduate high school because I got pregnant with you.” She looks at me, as if seeing herself as a teenager not that long ago. “Oh, I wanted a baby so bad. Your father wanted to wait until after high school, but I was going to make it happen sooner. All I wanted in this world was to be a mom.”

“You regret it?” I ask.

“Being a mom? Never. Seducing your father and making sure he didn’t use a condom, yes.”

“I don’t want to hear this.”

“Well, I’m gonna tell it to you whether you want to hear it or not. Be careful, Alex.”

“I am.”

She takes another drag of her cigarette while shaking her head. “No, you don’t get it. You might be careful, but girls won’t be. Girls are manipulative. I should know, I’m one of them.”

“Brittany is—”

“The kind of girl who can make you do things you don’t want to do.”

“Believe me, Mom. She doesn’t want a kid.”

“No, but she’ll want other things. Things you can never give her.”

I look up at the stars, the moon, the universe that I know doesn’t end. “But what if I want to give them to her?”

She lets out a slow breath, the action causing cigarette smoke to fly out of her mouth in one long stream. “At the age of thirty-five I’m old enough to have seen people die thinking they can change the ways of the world. No matter what you think, your father died trying to fix his life. Your facts are distorted, Alejandro. You were just a little boy, too young to understand.”

“I’m old enough now.”

A tear escapes from her eye and she wipes it away. “Yes, well, now it’s too late.”