Bodega Dreams by Ernesto B. Quinonez

window and thought, to each his own. Victor and Negra deserved each other. But Blanca and I were far from perfect either these days.
    “When they ask me to fill out the form, what do you want me to put down, Victor?”
    “I fell on it … write that I fell on it.”
    •
    WHILE VICTOR was being attended by an emergency-room doctor, I phoned Negra.
    “When you filled out the form, what did you put?” was her first question.
    “That he fell on the knife.”
    “Thass good.” I heard a sigh of relief. “You know, Chino, I never meant to throw it at him, it just flew.” Like I believed that.
    “Can you call Blanca and tell her where I’m at?” I didn’t really have to ask this of Negra, I could have called Blanca myself, but I needed some fill-ins for my next question.
    “I’ll call Blanca for you, Chino.”
    “And another thing, Negra, I need to find your aunt Veronica. The one who calls herself Vera.”
    “Why?” There was a dip in the middle of that
why
, to let me know that she knew I had something to hide. I let her have it.
    “I didn’t ask you why the knife flew out of your hands, right? I wrote on the form that Victor fell on it. Victor wanted to tell the truth. Victor wanted to tell the doctors that his wife threw it at him. You know what that means, right? The doctors would have to report the incident as a possible crime, right? But I convinced him not to. I said you know she still loves you, so why would you want to send the cops to your house? So,
mira
, you owe me. You owe me big.” I paused and waited for Negra to say something. She stayed quiet, so I continued, calmer and slower.
    “All I’m asking, Negy, is if you have any information about some aunt of yours. That’s all I’m asking.”
    “Why not ask Blanca?” She was too smart to fall for this. Negra could always see an opening where she could get back her leverage, regain the upper hand. She knew I was asking a really stupid question with an obvious answer.
    “You know your sister, all she knows is school and church.” I was proud of my quick reply. I hoped Negra would buy it. There was no response for a little while and I could just picture Negra mulling this over as she lit a cigarette.
    “
Tía
Veronica?” She exhaled, and I could almost smell the smoke. “She lives in Miami.”
    “I know that already. Where in Miami?”
    “That shouldn’t be too hard to find out. I’ll ask around. I’ll find out. Okay?” Pause. “And Chino, thanks for taking Victor, all right?”
    “Yeah, all right. Just get me her address. And listen, they’re going to keep Victor overnight for observation. So you can come and pick him up tomorrow, okay?” I was ready to hang up.
    “Okay. Hey Chino!” she said loudly, bringing my ear back to the phone.
    “I’m still here, but make it quick.”
    “Does Victor really like Al Pacino?”
    “He loves him.”
    •
    I DIDN ’ T want to alarm Blanca, so before I got home I buttoned up my denim jacket, which only had a bit of blood smudged on the sleeves. When I got to our building I walked up the stairs, took my keys out, and opened the door.
    Blanca was waiting, furious. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, waving a piece of paper in my face. “I had to find this under the door, Julio?” I looked at the paper in her hand. It was a lease. The Harry Goldstein Real Estate Agency, two bedrooms for half of what we were paying the City of New York to live in a one-bedroom in one of its projects.
    “I wasn’t sure we’d get it. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.” Bodega hadn’t wasted any time.
    “I’m so mad at you, Julio, keeping me in the dark! After all we’ve talked about, after I asked you to tell me everything you’re up to, you kept me in the dark.”
    “I kept you in the dark? I get us a better place to live and I kept you in the dark?”
    “You know that’s not what I mean. You do things as if you were still single. As if my two cents means nothing. As if you—”