pleads. Of course I stop.
âI knew it, I knew it,â I say, âyou needed something else, I knew it. Iâm not going to pay to have that girlâs thing done.â
âSo youâd rather have her beaten up by her husband or killed by her father? Look, this girl came to me for help. Iâm trying to help her.â
âDid you ever think Maritza that you canât always help people? That sometimes itâs better to just let things happen.â
âNo itâs not.â
âI canât believe you, Iâve known you all my life, and you still surprise me. I canât believe you.â
âI have a scared girl in there who made a mistake! I need your credit card!â She is already losing her patience with me, as if I am the one who is responsible for all of this.
âMaritza, Iâm not the guy who did this to her, and Iâm sure that the guy she is marrying is also a new immigrant, cuz Nuyoricans arenât into this virgin bullshit. We like our women whether they are pushing strollers or not. Look at Zulma, she has like four kids, but she still looks good and all these men want to marry her. So itâs not only my problem itâs not even my peopleâs problem.â
âWell, for your information, the guy she is marrying is Puerto Rican.â
âYeah, from the island, right? Thatâs different, they buy into this marrying-a-virgin shit. They think their wives should be pure like sugar or something, like their mother, or someââ
âIâll pay you back!â She yells in annoyance at my rattling. For a split second only the sounds of sirens and cars passing us by can be heard.
âIâll pay you back,â she says calmly. âIf I could put it on my card, I would.â And she stares at me like she has hypnotic powers.
âArenât you against all of this?â I say, calming down a bit and shaking my head slowly. âIsnât this something that you speak out against in your church?â
âYes, of course it is, stupid. God youâre so stupid, Julio,â she says, âof course it is, this is female genital mutilation. Of course Iâm against it. Itâs really about control over women. But right now, I have a scared girl who if she doesnât bleed on her wedding night is going to get the shit beaten out of her.â
âAt times I donât get you, Mari,â I say defeated, âI donât, but all right, all right how much?â
âTwo â¦â
âYeah, two? Two what? Two hundred?â
âTwo ⦠Two thousand.â
âTwo thousand! You bugging, girl!â I canât max out my card, two thousand, I have a mortgage to keep, tuition, books, my parents.
âWait, wait, wait,â she holds my arm, âI have three hundred and she has six, so you will only be paying eleven. Iâll pay you back.â
I stare at her. Her face is lit by a lamppost on the corner. I once dreamed of wanting to know how Maritzaâs face looks in the dark. When you turn off the lights and your eyes have begun to adjust and all things take on new shades and different hues. I used to think maybe one night Iâd wake up for no reason and sheâd be next to me and Iâd get to see that image in real life. But then I got kicked around by her so much that I realized that she was more like a big sister slapping her little brother around.
âYouâll pay me back?â I say knowing she will not, she canât, like many do-gooders, Maritza is always broke.
âYes, Iâll pay you back now letâs go.â
âHow about giving Trompo Loco a job at your church,â I say. Maritza looks at me like Iâm insane.
âFine, but I canât pay himââ
âNo, you pay him what you owe me. You just let him do stuffââ
âWhatever, okay. Trompo can clean up and shit, letâs just go back inside.â
We walk back in