TROUBLE AFTER PARADISE

For days after his carnal experience with Esperanza, Joey is still floating 10 feet off the ground.

The next couple of days go by, and I am just radiating this aura of joy and love - even in the hallways at school. It’s as if nothing can faze me.  Now, this must be what it is like to be in love. Even some of the black girls smile at me, as they pass me in the hall. Including Carol Simmons, who’s probably the most beautiful girl in 10th grade - black or white. Even when David White and the Orange Face brothers scowl at me as they bop down the hallway, calling me a “punk-ass-bitch,” it doesn’t matter. I just beam at them with compassion in my heart, and float on down the corridor. I feel saintly! Although, I am dying to tell somebody about the whole Esperanza experience. But who can I tell? Not Skinny or Ricky - they think I’ve been boffing her all along. Certainly not Na-Na. It’s just welling up inside me, ready to pop. Finally, I just have to spill it to somebody, and wind up telling Marc, my Greek stoner dishwashing partner, at The Fox Hole.

I’m surprised, because as I’m reciting to him the tale of my love fest, he keeps pressing me for every minute detail. He’s asking me very specific questions. After each verification, he says - “excellent!” Later, he presents me with a nice, thick spliff. As a congratulation gift to share with Esperanza.

The next day, when I come to school, the black kids are in an uproar. There’s some serious trouble brewing again. I find out that somebody has painted KKK in white, on Contreau’s black Camaro in the parking lot! The black kids are enraged that someone would have the nerve to pull something like that - right there in the parking lot. They are convinced that TheKlan is present somewhere among the white kids. And the black kids are out for revenge.The white kids, of course, are equally terrified of another Black uprising, and they keep their distance. Tensions are definitely high. I have a feeling I know who is responsible for this.

THE AFTERMATH

    It’s the next day afterJoey loses his virginity to Esperanza and he is deliriously happy

     The next day, Sunday, arises. As I wake up to a sunny late morning, it’s like I’m entranced in a soothingly sweet lucid dream.

Oh my God! Did it really happen last night? Had I truly become one in a magnificent, passionate embrace with - Esperanza?  I am possessed by happy demons. Infused with giddiness. As the day wears on, I am spontaneously bursting into insane song and dance routines like –

   “Wherever we go, whatever we do, we’re gonna do it together!” 

 I’m snapping my fingers. Doing pratfalls down the stairs into the living room, for God’s sake! Just out of control. That evening, as my sisters are helping my mother get dinner ready in the kitchen…for no apparent reason, I whimsically grab the broom from Maryanne, and go into this bizarre rendition of –

  “Do-re-mi” from Mary Poppins, and using this exaggeratedly theatrical voice. I’m doing pirouettes all over the kitchen, with the broom.

“Doe, a deer, a female deer, ray, a drop of golden sun; me, a name, I call myself, far, far, far to run…”

My mother is looking at me, half smiling, and half very alarmed.

“Ewww, get out of here - freak! Snaps Maryanne.

“What are you - mental?” chimes in Karen.

They are not smiling.  

But, nothing - nothing, can deter my cheerfulness. Today, I’m in a giving mood. I actually come to their aid, pushing past them, and carrying the baked ziti and sausages to the table!

“Pardon me, pardon me! Allow me, madam.”

“What is wrong with him tonight?!” They both look at me disgustedly.   

I begin to serve out portions to them, like a butler, like Mr. French, from Family Affair. Yeah, I’m Mr. French now, that’s who I am! The thought of it cracks me up, as I start speaking in that English butler kind of accent.  I’m quite amused with myself. My father, is now eyeing me suspiciously.

“He’s on something, ma! I bet he got a hold of some speed, or uppers, from his black drug dealer friends at school!”  acuses Maryanne.  

“I wouldn’t talk, not with all those drug addict skanks you hang out with! Joe Baretti! Heh, heh,” I retort in a sing-song voice.

“Joe Baretti?! He’s the sweetest guy in the world! He doesn’t even drink beer or – “

“Drug addict! Drug addict!” I chant.

“Don’t let me find out your smoking any of that funny stuff, or whatever,” my father warns me.

“God! Can’t somebody just be happy?” I complain.

“Not that happy, my friend. It’s not normal.”

“He’s not normal.”  Maryanne condemns.

I cluck my tongue and sigh.

“I’m not on anything, Wallace (that’s what I called him, for some reason). Jeez…I’m just in a good mood.”

“I’m just saying, I find out you’re doing any of that stuff, I’ll have your ass in a military school so damn fast” …his voice trails off, as he proceeds to cut his meat into precise two inch cubes.

“Damn! Can’t anybody just be happy around here?”

This whole scene reminds me of this Star Trek episode that really annoyed me. The Enterprise beams down McCoy, Spock, and a few of the crew to this planet, where an expedition team from like a hundred years ago, supposedly got stranded on. Figuring everybody would be long dead by now, they’re instead shocked to not only find them all alive, but they haven’t aged at all, either! And they’re ridiculously healthy, too - and happy! There’s these flowers on the planet that shoot these spores, and it keeps everybody happy, healthy, and young. They work just enough to sustain themselves, and the rest of the time they just have sex and fun. So the flowers shoot the Enterprise crew with the spores also, and pretty soon everybody just wants to have a good time. When Kirk finally beams down, he, for some reason, is annoyed that everybody is happy. Even Spock.  In fact, Spock is hanging upside down from a tree branch, laughing - and he has a girlfriend! Spock! He only mates like once every seven years, usually. Whoa. So Kirk beams back up to the Enterprise in a huff, and devises a way for the starship to emit this ultrasonic sound wave, that destroys all the flowers. And everybody’s miserable again. Except Kirk, who’s feeling good about it! I mean, why did Kirk have to ruin everything? Why couldn’t he just leave it be?  

Even later, when they all get back on board, Spock laments –

“For the first time in my life, I was happy.”  What a bummer.

Anyway, Kirk is like my father, I think, just trying to spoil my fun. It doesn’t matter, though. All I have to do is think back to last night with Esperanza, the way it was so tight in her MG Midget, and how my leg would involuntarily jerk, once accidentally kicking the radio button on to Van Morrison’s, Crazy Love! I mean, how perfect is that? How the windows were so fogged up from the contrast of the bitter cold outside, and the steamy heat inside. How Esperanza would make these noises that murmured from deep inside her breast…sounds I’ve never even heard from another human being before. That’s all I need to smile and create a warm, tingly feeling inside me! And nobody or nothing, can ever take that away!

JOEY LOSES HIS VIRGINITY

It’s right after Joey and Esperanza’s first date - a twin bill of Death Wish and Lipstick at the Liberty Theater in Elizabeth and Esperanza is driving home - when suddenly -

Suddenly, she clicks on her right blinker, and turns into the driveway of the Tasty Cake Outlet Factory. What is she doing? My house is about another mile and a half down the road. She continues on and pulls onto this back road. Hope Avenue. I’ve been to this Tasty Cake place a hundred times before, and I never even knew this Hope Avenue existed.

Rows of factories surrounded us, lining either side of the street.  She stops the car - and cuts the lights. A lone streetlight casts its glow in the otherwise stark blackness of the night. She gazes into my eyes with such an intimate intensity, that I have to turn away. I bow my head. She moves closer, puts her face right in front of mine.  

“Papi, how did you feel when that guy was raping Margaux Hemingway When he tied her up to the bedposts?”

Long silence.

“I – I don’t know…it was um – kind of-”

“Did you think she was beautiful?”

(Deep breath) “Yeah! I mean, of course -”

“Did it make you all hot inside?”

She puts her index finger on my lips.

“Shhh…”

Taking my face in her hands, she cradles it tenderly. Starts kissing me gently at first, softly pressing her beautiful lips against mine, then my nose. Then my face. Her tongue begins to explore my lips again and again, until she thrusts it inside my mouth, increasingly more aggressively, passionately.  

She’s leaning over me now, tenderly pushing me backwards. I surrender, almost paralyzed. I allow her to take the lead as she continues to press on. She grabs hold of my jacket, pulls it off, and begins unbuttoning my gold silkscreen shirt. She’s starting to breathe heavily now…I am too, but mostly out of fear and uncertainty. Now, I feel myself start to shake, then tremble. Tremors are everywhere. Running up and down my body, like, I’m being dipped in ice water. I can’t control it.

“Don’t worry, papi, it’s alright…be calm.”

She puts my hand on her tit.  She’s pressed against me now, moving and grinding, and making sounds like a baby sucking a pacifier. My leg jerks spastically, kicking the steering wheel. She’s on top of me now. I have my hands under her bra, and, boy, it is the most amazing thing - her nipples grow right in my hands! I begin kneading her breasts, like a kitten groping for its mother’s milk. She pulls her dress over her head and flings it backwards. She has my shirt off, running her nails around my nipples. She’s moaning. I’m grunting, caught between desire and terror. Her hands go down and now she’s rubbing Mr. Johnson. Oh, that feels good! Sweat, sweat, and more sweat. This is it. This is it! She pulls down my pants and throws them in the back. Garments are whizzing around like a dodge ball game. She puts my hand down her crotch - and I’m rubbing her black lace panties. Oh shit, I don’t know what to do!  She rubs her tits in my face. It’s a frenzy!  She guides my Johnson inside her.  

“Oh God, oh God!” I scream out

THE FIRST DATE

Esperanza and Joey leave her great-grandmother on their way to ‘The Big Date’

We stop off first at Jack In The Box, for some tacos before the movie. It makes me feel proud to pay for it. I ask her about the pictures on the wall. She tells me the guy in the Navy uniform was her father, he left them when she was like four or five years old, and she doesn’t remember much about him. She had another sister, an older one, who died of bronchitis when she was nine years old, that her mother worked two jobs, cleaning toilets by day, and offices at night. Her great grandmother was 102 years old, and had outlived two husbands. And she was thirteen when she was, Miss Teen Puerto Rico, in San Juan, but nothing ever happened with it after that.  

I ask her why she doesn’t enter beauty pageants anymore, that she could definitely be Miss America. She smirks and says she doesn’t have time for that anymore, she’s got to make that money. And besides, only White girls ever get to be Miss America. By the time we finish eating, I feel more comfortable with her than I ever have before. I still don’t know what movie we’re going to see, though.

We get to the Liberty Theater, and there’s a double feature playing - Death Wish and Lipstick. Esperanza says she’s really looking forward to seeing Death Wish, and everybody’s been talking about it. Besides, she says she thinks Charles Bronson is so sexy. I go to get the tickets, while Esperanza stands off a little to the side.

“Can I see your ID?” asks the skeletal old black lady, at the ticket booth.

“Whadaya mean - ID?  Why do I need -”

“These movies are rated R, you got to be at least seventeen to get in here, unless you’re accompanied by a guardian.”

“Accompanied by a guardian?!  This is ridiculous. (I lower my voice) Of course I’m seventeen, I’m a senior at Roselle High.”

Well, I still got to see some ID.”

Panic starts to set in. I pull myself closer to her face, and lower my voice to a whisper.

“Please lady, gimme a break here; I’m on my first date with this girl - I -”

“I’m sorry, but it’s my job.”

“What’s the problem, honey?” Esperanza interrupts.

I - I forgot my ID,” I cut in, before the lady has a chance to say anything.

A slight scowl crosses Esperanza’s face. I immediately feel my johnson retract deep inside my tighty-whiteys.

We do get in, and I get the popcorn, trying to revive some vestige of my compromised manhood. But the embarrassment I just suffered there, feels like a mortal wound. As we sit at our seats during the coming attractions, I can’t even make myself look at her. She peeks at me with a sympathetic smile.  

“Don’t worry about it, papi.”

My johnson expands just a little bit, a tiny portion of relief spreading over me. About five or ten minutes into the movie, there’s this pretty brutal scene where these junkies break into Bronson’s NYC apartment, rape his daughter, and kill his wife. I look at Esperanza, who’s motionless - and emotionless - then mumbles something in Spanish under her breath.

Suddenly, a wave of intense fear, then nausea, breaks over me. Scenes of the rape I witnessed last year, of Butch Finnegan in the high school bathroom, race vengefully and unexpectedly through my psyche. Fuck! I can’t believe this! I’ve buried those thoughts way out of my consciousness for the past year, and now, suddenly, I’m replaying them?! Or rather, they’re being replayed for me. Against my will, with all the same stomach-numbing feelings and reactions accompanying them. I’m silently battling with myself to remain conscious; holding down what I’m sure is going to be a torrent of vomit.

I just want to reach out and put my arm around Esperanza, I want – need - somebody to hold me, but I can’t do it. Every time I just about build up the courage, the inclination to make the move, Bronson shoots another thug! Esperanza would be lurching forward, nearly spilling the popcorn to the floor, shouting:

“Yeah, get him! Get that motherfucker, papi!”

The second movie, Lipstick, is starring this supermodel, Margaux Hemingway, in her first featured role as - what else? A model that gets raped by her little sister’s music teacher. And then as the movie ends, she winds up blowing away the guy’s guts all over the parking lot with a shotgun! Just as he now attempts to rape the little sister.  

The lights go up and everybody in the theater cheers victoriously. After four hours of rape and revenge, though, I feel drained and emotionally spent.  Usually, violence doesn’t really affect me…why am I reacting this way?  What am I - a punk? A pussy?  A twinge of shame shadows over me as we walk silently to her car, and now driving quietly too. With only occasional peeks at each other, and quick (nervous on my part) smiles to break the spell. The gnawing sense that I have failed her in some way hounds me still, making me doubt that there has ever really been any chemistry at all. We cross over into Roselle, down First Avenue, heading to my house. Damn! I didn’t even get to kiss her tonight…and now I’m never going to see her again.