*** Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, guys, but college is a killer. I've
been busy with work, too, so I plan to update more often! Thanks to
everyone who has been reviewing! Keep them coming! ***
When Leticia was seven years old and at the high point of her bratty stage, Luz and Tito got divorced. The biggest shocker was that Luz was leaving Tito with the three kids and was hightailing it to San Juan, Puerto Rico, practically on the other side of the world. This devastated Letty, because she was close to her mother and hated to see her father so upset. So, with Diego and Raul constantly picking on her, and her father constantly with a bottle of vodka in his hand, Leticia became a mess.
She was small for her age, with big black eyes and long, black hair. She was tanned, although she had funny tan lines because she always wore clothes when she went swimming or to the beach, because she would never be caught dead in "that fluffy pink stuff that Mia wears", meaning a bathing suit. Her favorite shirt was this ratty thing with a tribute to the Puerto Rican flag, which was too small for her, because her grandparents sent it to her when she was born. There were bloodstains, grass stains, food stains, dirt, crusty stuff, boogers, snot, you name it. It was on that damn shirt. Luz had to fight her to put it into the wash, which wasn't often because you know how Letty is.
So I wasn't surprised one afternoon, when I was eleven, when Letty showed up in our garage wearing that shirt. She was crying, and pointing to her t- shirt, and seemed ready to collapse. Of course, my dad and I ran over to her and knelt down to her size.
"Letty," I began. "What the fuck is the matter? Did someone hurt you?" She just kept crying and crying, pointing to the flag on her t-shirt. Dad took over for me.
"Let me lift up this shirt, Letty." Dad gently lifted the top of her shirt and was disgusted by what he saw. It was a big, black bruise in the shape of a fist. After he showed me, he quickly pulled the shirt back down and rocked back on his heels, his head in his hands. Letty was still crying. Her face was a mess and her hair needed brushed.
"Letty," Dad said. "Who did this to you?"
Letty coughed for a minute before answering. She caught her breath and managed to warble out what had happened.
"D-Diego," she sniffed. "He saw me this morning before he went to his friend's house. I said, 'Look, Diego, this is where Mom is,' and he said, 'So what? Letty, Mom's never gonna come back here to get us, so why the fuck do you still wear that stupid shirt?' and then he punched me, right on the flag!" Letty burst into fresh tears. As for me, my blood pressure was rising. I wanted to punch Diego in the stomach, or the chest, to make a big bruise like the one he gave to my Leticia. I pulled Letty into my arms and hugged her. She cried all over my neck, but I couldn't have cared less. Dad went inside and brought Letty an ice pack. I sat with her in the garage with the ice pack for over an hour, listening to her sniffle, then burst back into tears, then get angry and tense up, then get sad and just bury herself in my chest. While she was having her nervous breakdown, I thought about a few things. I realized that Letty needed to spend some time with Mia, whether she liked it or not. Mia liked Letty, and never understood why she never bonded with her. Letty liked Mia, too, but they were just too different. Still, they could find something to do together that they would both enjoy. Later, I found out what that would be: picking on me.
Anyway, after I found out that Diego hit Letty, I stopped going over to her house to play with Raul. He stopped coming over to my house, because he and Diego were mad that I spent so much time with Letty because they hated her. At one point, Raul asked me if I'd rather be Letty's best friend than his. My answer shocked him. I told him that Letty would never, ever let me down. I also told him that I didn't like the way he treated his little sister. He sent me to hell and that was the last time that I ever spoke to Raul before he got hit by a car two weeks later and died on the scene. When I ran over to help, he spoke to me before he died. He said to take care of Leticia because their dad would never. I told him that I would until the day that I died. When they took away his body, and someone began cleaning up the scene, Letty came over. She didn't know what had happened to him until I told her.
"Leticia, Raul is gone. He was hit by a car and he died." I expected her to cry and run away, but she didn't. She gave me this confused look.
"So he's not coming back?" she asked, her eyes big and round.
I shook my head. "No, Letty." She stood there and watched someone hose off the road. She turned back to me.
"Can I live at your house, Dom?"
I wanted to tell her yes. But I knew she had to go home to her dad and Diego. I'd personally rather go home to a firing squad, but I knew she had to.
"You can come over here whenever you like, Letty. But you have to live at your house."
She nodded. "Okay."
Letty thought that "whenever you like" meant 24/7. She slept over every night and only went home to get her things. None of us minded, my mother loved her and bathed her every night (something she usually hates) and Dad cooked for all of us. We were like one big happy family, the five of us. Mia and Letty got along better and became almost as close as Letty and I.
When my mother died a few months later of cervical cancer, things were rough at first. Dad didn't talk much, but never drowned himself in alcohol like Tito did when Luz left him. He spent lots more time in the garage, working on cars, and singing to himself. Strange behavior for a dad, but he had just lost his wife.
Letty's brother Diego was arrested not long after my mom died. He was sixteen and was experimenting with drugs, and ended up getting picked up, along with some other hooligans, for pot one evening. We never saw him again. As for Tito, who knows. Letty hardly went to her house anymore, and Dad suggested that she get everything from her room and bring it to our house. I helped her that afternoon. I loaded boxes, I lugged bags, and I carried Letty after she hurt her leg trying to stand on a closet shelf. When her stuff had been placed in our living room, I had a talk with her. She surprised ME when she began talking first. She was eight years old.
"Dom, I've been thinking. Maybe I should just go away and leave everyone alone. Then, maybe people will stop dying and running away and dervorcing."
I had to hold in a laugh, at "dervorcing". I just took her dirty little hand in mine and said, "Letty, you aren't the cause of all this stuff. Don't even think that, even for a second. We love having you here."
I felt awful for Letty, to have to deal with death and divorce at such a young age. But she seemed to be doing okay. She became my sidekick at school. She finished my fights after I was too tired to go on, she helped me with math (she was a smart little shit), and she bailed me out of the principal's office more than three times. She was four years younger than me, but no one seemed to care. They all thought of Letty as one of the guys. When I went to junior high and Letty was still in Elementary school, she was upset. But Mia stayed with her everyday and they'd meet Vince and me at the end of the drive after their bus dropped them off every single day. The four of us became close.
One evening, after Dad made his famous stuffed shells, she came into my room and found me talking on the phone to Mariana Ortiz, my new girlfriend.
"Who are you talking to, Dom?" she asked, figuring it was Vince, my best friend.
"Mariana, my girlfriend."
Letty nodded, and turned around. When she looked back at me, I thought I saw a little bit of jealousy in her big black eyes. Letty? Jealous? No way.
When Leticia was seven years old and at the high point of her bratty stage, Luz and Tito got divorced. The biggest shocker was that Luz was leaving Tito with the three kids and was hightailing it to San Juan, Puerto Rico, practically on the other side of the world. This devastated Letty, because she was close to her mother and hated to see her father so upset. So, with Diego and Raul constantly picking on her, and her father constantly with a bottle of vodka in his hand, Leticia became a mess.
She was small for her age, with big black eyes and long, black hair. She was tanned, although she had funny tan lines because she always wore clothes when she went swimming or to the beach, because she would never be caught dead in "that fluffy pink stuff that Mia wears", meaning a bathing suit. Her favorite shirt was this ratty thing with a tribute to the Puerto Rican flag, which was too small for her, because her grandparents sent it to her when she was born. There were bloodstains, grass stains, food stains, dirt, crusty stuff, boogers, snot, you name it. It was on that damn shirt. Luz had to fight her to put it into the wash, which wasn't often because you know how Letty is.
So I wasn't surprised one afternoon, when I was eleven, when Letty showed up in our garage wearing that shirt. She was crying, and pointing to her t- shirt, and seemed ready to collapse. Of course, my dad and I ran over to her and knelt down to her size.
"Letty," I began. "What the fuck is the matter? Did someone hurt you?" She just kept crying and crying, pointing to the flag on her t-shirt. Dad took over for me.
"Let me lift up this shirt, Letty." Dad gently lifted the top of her shirt and was disgusted by what he saw. It was a big, black bruise in the shape of a fist. After he showed me, he quickly pulled the shirt back down and rocked back on his heels, his head in his hands. Letty was still crying. Her face was a mess and her hair needed brushed.
"Letty," Dad said. "Who did this to you?"
Letty coughed for a minute before answering. She caught her breath and managed to warble out what had happened.
"D-Diego," she sniffed. "He saw me this morning before he went to his friend's house. I said, 'Look, Diego, this is where Mom is,' and he said, 'So what? Letty, Mom's never gonna come back here to get us, so why the fuck do you still wear that stupid shirt?' and then he punched me, right on the flag!" Letty burst into fresh tears. As for me, my blood pressure was rising. I wanted to punch Diego in the stomach, or the chest, to make a big bruise like the one he gave to my Leticia. I pulled Letty into my arms and hugged her. She cried all over my neck, but I couldn't have cared less. Dad went inside and brought Letty an ice pack. I sat with her in the garage with the ice pack for over an hour, listening to her sniffle, then burst back into tears, then get angry and tense up, then get sad and just bury herself in my chest. While she was having her nervous breakdown, I thought about a few things. I realized that Letty needed to spend some time with Mia, whether she liked it or not. Mia liked Letty, and never understood why she never bonded with her. Letty liked Mia, too, but they were just too different. Still, they could find something to do together that they would both enjoy. Later, I found out what that would be: picking on me.
Anyway, after I found out that Diego hit Letty, I stopped going over to her house to play with Raul. He stopped coming over to my house, because he and Diego were mad that I spent so much time with Letty because they hated her. At one point, Raul asked me if I'd rather be Letty's best friend than his. My answer shocked him. I told him that Letty would never, ever let me down. I also told him that I didn't like the way he treated his little sister. He sent me to hell and that was the last time that I ever spoke to Raul before he got hit by a car two weeks later and died on the scene. When I ran over to help, he spoke to me before he died. He said to take care of Leticia because their dad would never. I told him that I would until the day that I died. When they took away his body, and someone began cleaning up the scene, Letty came over. She didn't know what had happened to him until I told her.
"Leticia, Raul is gone. He was hit by a car and he died." I expected her to cry and run away, but she didn't. She gave me this confused look.
"So he's not coming back?" she asked, her eyes big and round.
I shook my head. "No, Letty." She stood there and watched someone hose off the road. She turned back to me.
"Can I live at your house, Dom?"
I wanted to tell her yes. But I knew she had to go home to her dad and Diego. I'd personally rather go home to a firing squad, but I knew she had to.
"You can come over here whenever you like, Letty. But you have to live at your house."
She nodded. "Okay."
Letty thought that "whenever you like" meant 24/7. She slept over every night and only went home to get her things. None of us minded, my mother loved her and bathed her every night (something she usually hates) and Dad cooked for all of us. We were like one big happy family, the five of us. Mia and Letty got along better and became almost as close as Letty and I.
When my mother died a few months later of cervical cancer, things were rough at first. Dad didn't talk much, but never drowned himself in alcohol like Tito did when Luz left him. He spent lots more time in the garage, working on cars, and singing to himself. Strange behavior for a dad, but he had just lost his wife.
Letty's brother Diego was arrested not long after my mom died. He was sixteen and was experimenting with drugs, and ended up getting picked up, along with some other hooligans, for pot one evening. We never saw him again. As for Tito, who knows. Letty hardly went to her house anymore, and Dad suggested that she get everything from her room and bring it to our house. I helped her that afternoon. I loaded boxes, I lugged bags, and I carried Letty after she hurt her leg trying to stand on a closet shelf. When her stuff had been placed in our living room, I had a talk with her. She surprised ME when she began talking first. She was eight years old.
"Dom, I've been thinking. Maybe I should just go away and leave everyone alone. Then, maybe people will stop dying and running away and dervorcing."
I had to hold in a laugh, at "dervorcing". I just took her dirty little hand in mine and said, "Letty, you aren't the cause of all this stuff. Don't even think that, even for a second. We love having you here."
I felt awful for Letty, to have to deal with death and divorce at such a young age. But she seemed to be doing okay. She became my sidekick at school. She finished my fights after I was too tired to go on, she helped me with math (she was a smart little shit), and she bailed me out of the principal's office more than three times. She was four years younger than me, but no one seemed to care. They all thought of Letty as one of the guys. When I went to junior high and Letty was still in Elementary school, she was upset. But Mia stayed with her everyday and they'd meet Vince and me at the end of the drive after their bus dropped them off every single day. The four of us became close.
One evening, after Dad made his famous stuffed shells, she came into my room and found me talking on the phone to Mariana Ortiz, my new girlfriend.
"Who are you talking to, Dom?" she asked, figuring it was Vince, my best friend.
"Mariana, my girlfriend."
Letty nodded, and turned around. When she looked back at me, I thought I saw a little bit of jealousy in her big black eyes. Letty? Jealous? No way.