We rounded a corner and saw a group of young Latin men, hanging on the street. One was sitting on a fire hydrant, a few were leaning against the buildings, but most of them were huddled around one guy in a dark T-shirt. I grabbed Ryan’s arm and tried to redirect him. I didn’t want to make any sound that would alert them to our presence, but he kept moving forward as if he hadn’t seen anything.
“Ryan!” I hissed.
“It’s all right.” By now, they had seen us and everyone was giving us the once-over. I felt panicked. I kept walking with Ryan, hoping they’d let us through. The man with the dark T-shirt held up both his arms. Ryan released me and strode up to him. I couldn’t breathe.
“Hey, man.” They hugged while I exhaled heavily. Ryan said something to the man in Spanish, to my surprise, and then everyone turned to me. The man Ryan had embraced was looking at me with curiosity, then he extended his hand. “I’m Felipe.”
I shook with him. “Charlie.”
The entire group gathered around us as we started walking.
When Ryan threaded my arm through his again, I whispered, “I’m a little nervous here.”
“You’re fine. You’re with me.”
“When did you learn Spanish?”
Ryan shrugged. “You know, boxing, my job. Lots of the guys speak Spanish. They tell me my accent’s awful.”
Felipe joined us and said, “My mom misses you. She says you have to come over for dinner soon.”
“Yeah, I will. She still worried about you?”
“Every day I hear, ‘Felipe, when you going to stop that boxing? A few more fights, you’ll be in a wheelchair. You’re gonna get Parkinson’s.’”
“She’s right. Wise woman. You should stop getting your butt kicked.”
“I’ll kick your butt. How’s Evelyn?”
“Great. You coming to the wedding? It’s next month.”
“Got my tux ready. Just need to find a date.” Felipe glanced at me and winked. I noticed he didn’t mention Fiona: code of honor among men. I already knew she’d be back for the wedding.
Meanwhile, even though I was holding on to Ryan tightly, all of the men around us were eyeing me. This was something new. For the first time, I was grateful for my sixty-year-old-lady outfit. We halted so someone could get a light for a cigarette, and to my surprise, the young guy walking next to me dropped onto the concrete sidewalk and started doing a rapid series of push-ups. Then he popped up and strode along with the rest of us again.
Ryan bent down and murmured, “I think he likes you.”
I ignored him and said to Felipe, “So, tell me about how you and Ryan met.”
“We met at the mecca of all boxing gyms in Brooklyn and spent our teenage years trying to knock each other out. Just about every serious fighter winds up there. Then we started hanging out in each other’s houses and neighborhoods too.”
Ryan said, “I’ll never forget how that place smelled. No AC, if you slipped on all the sweat, you just went down on those concrete floors. Weights held together by duct tape. But it wasn’t for show. People were polite and respectful and no one cared how much you could bench. It was about doing the work. But boy, could those trainers break your back.”
I looked at him a minute, picturing him in that world. He could feel my eyes on him and turned to me. “What?”
I shook my head. “It’s just—you’ve got this whole macho boxing past. But then you have an apartment filled with orchids and a fluffy fat cat.”
Felipe whooped with laughter. “She’s seen your green thumb, eh?”
Ryan smiled. “I’m a very peaceful guy. I just had a bit of anger to work out in my adolescence, that’s all.”
Felipe snorted. “A bit of anger. Don’t let him fool you, this guy’s got some serious talent. I have the dents in my head to show for it.”
We finally arrived at a large apartment building. Even from the outside, we could hear the music blasting from the top floor. Mambo. We all trailed in. Ryan, Felipe, me and a couple of the other guys fit into the rickety elevator. The rest disappeared into the stairwell. When we stepped out, the hallway was dank and smelled like cabbage. My heart was still pounding hard. Then Felipe banged on the door and we went into the apartment.
Inside, the music was so loud, my eardrums began to ache. I could smell marijuana and a more bitter stench, like kerosene, although I knew it had to be something else. The apartment was filled with young Latin men. Most of them were sitting on the floor against the wall. There were only a few old armchairs and little tables scattered across the room. Small groups huddled by the tables. I followed the guys into the kitchen, which was crowded with bottles of liquor. Felipe turned to me. He was a bit shorter than Ryan, and moved with compact efficiency. Since it was too loud to speak, he made a drinking gesture to ask me what I wanted.
I shrugged. He held up a bottle of Coke and pointed to some rum. I nodded. While he was making my drink, a girl with long dark hair and a prominent Greek nose stepped into the kitchen. I was relieved not to be the only woman there. She smiled at me, then made a smoking gesture with her hand, pretending to bring it up to her lips. She was offering me something other than cigarettes. I smiled as I shook my head, then noticed Ryan in front of me, holding both of our drinks.
Together, we squeezed our way out to the living area, where we settled into a spot on the floor. Ryan leaned back in his cutoff T-shirt and jeans. I wrapped my long dress around my legs, feeling safer in it, even though it was very hot in the room. I saw to my relief that there were a few other women scattered throughout the crowd. Still, we were vastly outnumbered. I started to feel disoriented. What was I doing here? The other girls were so secure, smiling and flirting with the men, and I was just out of my depth. Ryan put his arm around me as he handed me my drink. I felt a bit better. It’d been made with a lot of ice and tasted delicious.
Most of the other guys had stripped down to their undershirts. The windows were wide open and a light breeze blew through. A lot of people were smoking, cigarette butts littered the floor. I scanned the room and noticed a table ringed with people. Ryan got up, strode over to a muscled young teenager who was hanging around there, and whacked him on the back of his neck. The boy grinned as he shuffled away.
Then Ryan returned and yelled something into my ear. “. . . outa here?”
I nodded. We squeezed our way through the crowd until we were out of the apartment. Were we leaving? But instead of taking me back to the elevator, Ryan guided me to a ladder leading up to the roof.
Since it was a bit quieter in the hallway, I asked, “What was at that table and who was the guy?”
“Cocaine. He’s one of the kids I coach, that idiot.”
I emerged into a fresh night filled with stars and moonlight. The roof was huge and flat, with occasional pipes and cables cutting across the chimneys. The building was much taller than the ones I was used to in Chinatown and we were so high up that we had a great view of the streets. A lot of people were sitting on the tar, leaning against the high ridge at the edge of the roof. Someone had brought up a boom box and the music was blasting here as well. In the middle, a space had been left for dancing. I was delighted. I’d never been on our roof at home and I was sure no one danced Latin there in the night. When we found a clear spot, Ryan brushed some cigarette butts away with his foot and we sat down.
One couple was doing salsa, the street version of mambo. Although it was night, there was enough reflected light from the buildings all around us that I could see fairly well. She had on a bright yellow flouncy skirt that flew as she turned. They were pretty good, fast and on the beat, only with a limited repertoire of steps. They did some moves I’d never seen before. Soon another couple had joined them, and another, until all of the girls on the roof were dancing with someone, and the other guys watched with longing eyes.
A wide hand appeared in front of my face. It was Felip
e, asking me to dance. I glanced at Ryan, who was watching me with a neutral expression. I felt nervous dancing here, in front of all these people I didn’t know, but at the same time, my limbs were buzzing with the desire to join in.
I took Felipe’s hand, then stood up. I had to get rid of the old lady dress or I’d trip in it. First I kicked off the dishwasher shoes. I retrieved my old Magic-Markered pumps from my bag and slipped them on. I was good enough to dance in them now and I didn’t want to destroy my dance shoes. Felipe nodded approvingly. I felt awkward as I pulled the huge flowered dress over my head, showing the more revealing outfit underneath. A breeze brushed my bare midriff below the tight gold top. Everyone seemed to be watching me. I stole a glance at Ryan. His jaw was slack as I dumped my excess clothing and stepped onto the floor with Felipe, who was now grinning broadly.
As soon as we started to move, I relaxed. Felipe was a phenomenal street dancer and kept us right in time to the music, his hands firm yet gentle. He led me into combinations I’d never seen before, although I recognized some of the elements. He threw my hand up, caught it, then twisted us so that both of us were dancing in parallel with our arms interlinked. He untangled us, spun me out and caught me again. It was exhilarating. I never had any idea what was coming next, yet we always stayed in sync. Then there was a tap on my shoulder and it was Ryan.
I saw the surprise on Felipe’s face. He stepped a few feet away from us to watch as Ryan took me into dance position and we started to move. Ryan wound me in, then gave me a push on my shoulder blade to spin me out. I did one and a half turns to return to facing him. Then he picked me up and tossed me onto his shoulder, where I perched for a moment before dropping onto his side, where he spun us both around and around. It was thrilling to just let go and dance, without anyone telling me about my arms, my legs or my head. I hadn’t had so much fun since that night at Decadence with Zan and Mo Li. I was free and joyful, powerful and sexy. I loved moving together with Ryan, we were a unit yet we each had our own roles. I felt as if I had left my body behind and Ryan and I simply were the dance.
Everyone had cleared the dance area and was watching us, drumming on the roof in time to the music. Ryan nodded at me and we started running through our choreographed routine from the beginning, going from lift to lift as if we’d been dancing together our entire lives. When Ryan brought me up into the overhead lift, people started to cheer. It was dizzying, being up in his arms, high against the stars. We did the final turns that ended the number, and finally Ryan bowed as I curtseyed. There was a moment of silence before the crowd applauded, then Felipe came over with a huge smile and gave Ryan a high five.
Then I felt someone nudge my arm and realized this time it was the girl from the kitchen who wanted to dance with me. Ryan smiled as he stepped aside. She started moving in front of me, expecting just to dance facing each other, but then I took her into dance position and began to lead her. She beamed. Her body was strong, and when she turned, droplets of sweat flew off her hair. We did a few basics, then side breaks and underarm turns. She didn’t know any steps but was a natural turner. I spun her for a triple, then dropped underneath my own arm for a double myself. When our dance was over, she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek before walking away.
I returned to the spot on the roof where Ryan and I had been sitting and was immediately surrounded by other men who wanted to dance with me. How things had changed. I kept shaking my head with a smile until Ryan found me and wrapped his arms around me. They stayed away after that.
We sat on the rooftop together watching the dancing, with me resting my head against his chest. What a different world I had lived in. It wasn’t only that I used to have a different job, I’d been another person, and now, dancing had freed me. It felt like a hallucination—the music, the night air, Ryan by my side. I sighed and closed my eyes with the city twirling its skirt of lights around me.
—
Hours later, Ryan and I stood outside looking for a taxi. Felipe had accompanied us to help. Even though it was now quiet, my hearing was still dulled from the hours of music. Felipe and I stood on the sidewalk while Ryan stepped into the middle of the avenue, trying to flag down a cab. None rode by.
“You were incredible,” Felipe said with his light accent. “When I first saw you with Ryan, I didn’t understand, but now I do.”
He thought I was the new girlfriend. “Oh no, he’s still with Fiona.”
Felipe’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “You know her name.”
“Of course I do. Ryan wouldn’t hide her from me.” I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “So, what’s she like?”
“Great woman. A bit bossy, but you know, that’s life. Very pretty.”
I blinked and stared at the pavement.
“I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry.”
Was I that transparent? Apparently. “No,” I lied, then added, “We’re not involved. We only dance together.”
“How interesting.” Felipe bent over and slowly kissed me once on my left cheek, then on my right. He smelled like rum and smoke. For the third kiss, I felt his lips a hair away from mine when he suddenly wasn’t there anymore.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Ryan was still holding on to Felipe’s T-shirt. He’d just yanked him off of me.
“She’s not your girlfriend,” Felipe said. “She just told me.”
“She’s my partner so stay the hell away from her.” Both men had squared off, facing each other. I stepped in between them and pushed them away with one hand on their rib cages.
“It’s late and we’re all tired,” I said. When they didn’t seem to be listening, I pounded on both of their chests with my fists. “Stop it!”
Ryan looked down at me and started to chuckle. “Only you would get in between two boxers. You have no sense.”
Felipe began to grin as well. “I didn’t know you felt that way about her, brother.” He walloped Ryan on his shoulder, leaned down and mock-whispered to me, “Never got that reaction from him before.”
I said, “If you guys aren’t going to tear each other’s throats out, how about I try to get a taxi?”
“Go ahead,” said Ryan, “But nothing’s around for miles.”
I stepped out onto the street. Behind me I could see Felipe had his arm wrapped around Ryan and was whispering something to him, gesturing toward me while he did it. I raised my arm and a cab pulled out of the shadows, coasting to a stop in front of us.
Ryan stared. “How did you do that?”
“I think they were afraid of you. I’m a woman. Get in.”
I waved good-bye to Felipe as we drove off and he blew me a kiss.
“What did he say to you?” I asked, leaning back against the vinyl of the seat.
“Some crap about how great you are. I think he was still hoping to get your number. I hate that guy.”
I smiled in the darkness. “I liked him.”
“I’ve never seen Felipe so surprised. It was all worth it.”
“I’m glad,” I said softly. “So did you spend your whole youth sitting through those parties, unable to dance with anyone?”
“That about sums it up.”
We were quiet. However wonderful this night had been, it was the end of something. We’d completed our deal. He was committed to Fiona, I was committed to not losing my job, and Pa wanted me to find a nice Chinese man, a Dennis or Winston. I sighed.
“You sound sad.” The lights from the street slid across his face.
“I guess I am.”
I felt his hand on the side of my neck, pulling me toward him. “Don’t be,” he said.
I gazed up at him. “Ryan, we can’t do this.”
He closed his eyes and swallowed. “I know. Come on, just pretend I’m a girl.”
I sighed as I rested my head against his shoulder.
When we stopped near my apartment, I pulled out my wallet bu
t he waved it away. As I opened the car door, he caught my hand. There was something open and pleading in his eyes. I touched his cheek for a moment, then I pulled away and stepped out of the taxi.
Twenty-One
There were only about ten days left before Lisa’s school went on vacation for the summer and I had an appointment to see Mr. Song again. I wasn’t sure there was anything he could do to help Lisa, but I had to try. Through his window, I could see the hot blustery weather outside. It was drizzling.
Mr. Song was wearing a pale blue shirt with no tie. He shook my hand vigorously. “I was just thrilled to hear that Lisa will be going to Hunter, although we will miss her here, of course.”
“We’re very grateful to you.”
“Oh, that’s nothing. What can I do for you today?”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “The thing is, we’re worried about Lisa.” I made myself explain to him about Lisa’s symptoms, that she hadn’t actually fallen as she’d told the school, but we didn’t know why she was becoming so weak.
He looked concerned. “Some of her teachers have noticed a change in her but we assumed it was the combination of the physical injury and her leaving our school soon. Many kids start to mentally check out when they know they’ll be going someplace else next year, but it’s much more worrisome if there was no physical injury to begin with.” Mr. Song got up and started rifling through his file cabinet. He pulled out a number of forms. “If you can get your physician and father to sign these, the school nurse will be able to begin constructing a health plan for Lisa. It’ll allow the nurse to communicate directly with your medical practitioner and then she can pass the information on to the right person at Hunter. The only problem is that we’re approaching the end of the school year so we’ll need the forms quickly.”
“We don’t have a family doctor.” Uncle Henry had always taken care of us, despite his lack of a medical degree, and we’d gone to a public clinic for standard vaccinations. “My father is pretty resistant to western medicine.”