[Danny Jones] (not me!)
[Santiago Durante] ((NOT IT))
[Santiago Durante] ((FUCK!))
[Danny Jones] (HAHAHHA! I WIN YOU POST!)
[Santiago Durante] It’s another warm summer evening in Chicago, Illinois. Front doors are staying open longer, the sidewalks are populated later into the evening. Despite the rising crime rate, despite the never end shrill scream of sirens and the all-too frequent burst of gunfire as far away as the other side of the projects and as close as the next block over, people are doing what they can to enjoy the sunlight, to enjoy the breeze when it comes. There is a sense of neighborhood solidarity here in Cabrini-Green, anxious and desperate though its denizens may be, and tonight, the other half of the house where the Durante clan lives is throwing a barbecue in the shared backyard.
Santiago Durante and his niece, Carolina, have the front porch to themselves. As the hands on the clock slide towards 8, they cross over the threshold between indoors and freedom, screen door squeaking in their passage and clattering shut at their exit. Carolina has an armful of Barbie dolls, plastic hair dangling with the Earth’s pull and pencil-thin legs pointed towards the cloudy sky; Santiago has nothing but time.
It has been days since Rafael has graced the household with his presence, since his loud voice has come ricocheting up the front walk. When last he was home, he had Brodie in tow, the two of them bantering like sports commentators and driving Mama Isabel to distraction. Rafael had gotten into a spatula sparring match with his mother, the woman threatening in fractured English to beat some sense into him while her son goaded her on, and that was the last anyone had seen or heard from him.
The only one who hasn’t learned not to question the man’s whereabouts is his daughter. Now, tonight, she has only her uncle and her uncle’s friend Danny (Carolina hasn’t learned the importance of station, hasn’t learned the tenuous difference between a friend and a girlfriend and has not referred to Danny as anything other than her name, than ‘Santi’s friend’. Carolina knows about marriage, and she knows about friends. There is no in between yet situated in that rapidly growing brain of hers.) to fill the gap where her father ought to be. This is a position the Durante kinfolk find themselves in more often than not: taking Rafi’s place.
[Danny Jones] It’s been days since Rafi has graced the Durante homestead, and in his absence, Danny has remained close. Truth be told, however, it grates on her nerves and sets her on edge, and she’s had to take some time to work out her aggression now and again.
It’s been a long time since she was an Omega.
Kemp’s goading didn’t help any, and the pull of the darkened moon, her moon, which sets her emotions on edge. She is pack, she is part of the family – but she still feels like a visitor, a guest. It’s not anyone’s fault, just perceptions and a moody gnawer, no, a TEENAGE GIRL’s mind.
But – tonight, they are to babysit, and she had slipped out to work some of her magic with her favorite ice cream parlor. The dishwasher there owes her a solid, and as such – as Santi and Carolina make their way outside, Danny saunters up the walk after her errand, a bag held behind her back as she watches Santi carry the little girl to the porch. “Hey, you two – guess what I got?”
[Santiago Durante] Santiago lowers his niece to the creaking wooden porch, her light-up sandals clumping one then the other as the familiar form of the Gnawer ‘Bash comes up the cracked, stained sidewalk. Next door, hip hop music filters through a window; the low din of voices makes its way around and through the house. The little Buick beater that Mama drives is not on the street–tonight is a night she has to work. Dinner had been effortlessly slapped together before she even thought about heading out the front door, and now that the little girl has had dinner, she is ready to further dampen her appetite with something heinously bad for her.
Carolina sees Danny, and she knows immediately what it is that the teenage girl, her newest friend, brings with her. The girl’s dark eyes light up, and she ducks, not caring in the least that her denim skirt is not designed for the graceless crouching small children are incapable of avoiding, to set her chorus of dolls on the porch.
“Ice cream?” she chirps, hurrying to meet Danny halfway. “Yay!”
Santiago follows along behind, hands hitching up the ill-fitting jeans that have started to slip down his hips. This is something for which he is perpetually teased by his eldest brother, who is particularly found of yelling out “Hey, you big stupid, I can see your tangas!” before yanking on said exposed undergarments. When done in the presence of the little girl, this is always accompanied by raucous, high-pitched laughter. At any rate, he catches them as they begin to sneak downward, and stops to adjust the tightness of the canvas belt before reaching out to take the bag from Danny.
“How much do I owe you?”
[Danny Jones] She grins as the dolls are dumped in favor for the ragabash and the gift she brings. Carolina comes running, and she holds the bag out of the way so that she can bend and saWHOOOOOP the girl up in a skinny arm and swing her around and around and around before she laughs and drops a kiss on the girl’s forehead. “Si, nina, ice cream. a WHOLE CARTON of your favorite. Just like I promised.”
She effortlessly swings Carolina to the ground again, helping her stay steady until she is no longer dizzy, which also allows her to watch Santiago and those jeans slipping and being hiked up again. Her dark eyes swim over him in a slow caress before she hands the bag over to him. She snorts and rolls her eyes. “I take it out in trade.” Lips part into a slow grin as she drops her gaze to his lips and back up again. “…later.”
[Santiago Durante] “Well, I’m sure we can arrange something…”
Carolina looks back and forth between her uncle and her playmate. The words, she understands, but in the sentences they come in they make little sense. It is like trying to put together her father’s Spanglish, like trying to spy on the neighbors when they argue, even when they talk. This is Grown Up Talk, and she is not privy to its nuances.
“What are you guys talking about?” she pipes up.
The porch steps are going to have to do for a settling ground–it is far too hot, the house traps too much heat, for anyone to consider heading back inside. The entire day, it seems, has been passed outside, hiding under the protective droop of the porch, under the canvas shade of the swing still set up to one side. There is a pile of children’s books stacked on the Durantes’ side, an empty juice box, a pair of Santiago’s shoes and his socks. Mama has not been around to clean up after him; Rafi, to holler. Santiago, it should be noted, may as well be teaching Carolina how to be a bad Gnawer, one who does not feel inclined to keep his surroundings tidy. His room is a disaster area, every dirty article of clothing strewn about the floor, towels everywhere, dirty plates, silverware, cups. Mama refuses to go in there. Rafael makes a point of kicking a path every time he comes in to steal back a towel, to hunt for a shirt. “Don’ know how you can stand sleeping in there, man, tha’s fucking nasty,” he’s told Danny on more than one occasion.
“You want to go grab us some spoons, Cari?”
“Yeah!”
It is a simple suggestion, and she is off and tearing through the house. He thinks too late to add, “Don’t run!”
[Danny Jones] Arranging something – that causes that smile to brighten, widen, and even a faint splash of color to dance across her cheeks. That she’s spent practically every night with him since they met doesn’t matter – she still blushes, she still has moments that are so completely, totally human that it’s easy to forget that she is part animal, part rage, part killing machine.
Carolina asks her questions, and that color deepens as she reaches down and tugs on a curl. “Nothing, nosy. Big kid stuff. I explain later.” Of course, whenever she tells the little girl she’ll explain later, it invaribly ends with Carolina making faces and asking if they gonna kiss again. She’s little, but far from unobservant.
Which makes it all the more amusing that Danny waits until the little girl is out of sight to get those spoons, before she moves closer to slide an arm around Santiago and curl close, inhaling deeply of his scent as she lifts on her toes to press a kiss up under his jaw. “So, ya miss me?”
It’s followed by a chuckle, as its not like she’s been gone forever. Just long enough to be glad he’s here to come home too.
[Santiago Durante] A strong hand comes to rest between her sharp shoulder blades, fingertips curled against her spine, and he looks down at her enough to smile out a response.
“Carolina kept asking when you were coming back. I’m like ‘Chill, chica.'”
As if on cue, the girl’s tromping footfalls draw closer, draw closer, draw closer, until her weigh comes crashing through the screen door, three spoons held flush in one hand, a triumphant smile on her face.
“I found them!” she cries. Seeing Danny with her arm around her uncle, she frowns. “You two weren’t kissing, were you?”
Santiago moves away from Danny to ruffle the little girl’s hair, gone wild and curly with the humidity. It needs a trim, hangs down past her shoulders without much care as to where it winds up. Mama has been too busy to take a pair of scissors to it, has found far too much work needs to be done around the house with two boys and a young girl residing within its walls, with Rafael and his pack tearing through with all the force of their totem behind their comings and goings, something being broken every time they leave, a glass or a dish or last time a closet door when Rafael and Brodie were wrestling. She simply sighs and fixes up after her boys. Sometimes she sighs to Danny, “And I thought five was going to be it. Not with Rafi’s boys!”
But to the matter at hand. Were they kissing?
“No, baby, we weren’t.”
“Good,” she says, definitively, with a nod of her head, as they set themselves down on the porch steps. “That’s icky.”
“Oh, you think so, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“You never used to think it was icky when your mommy and daddy did it.”
“That’s different. Mommies and daddies are supposed to do stuff like that.”
[Danny Jones] She laughs softly, the sound vibrating against his skin where he can fell her smile. She looks up at him, and her smile is as soft as the shine in her eyes. Santiago is good for her. That much is abundantly clear. “Had to do a bit of bartering with Julio to make sure I got her favorite flavor. Sorry I took so long.”
Then comes that question, and she laughs as she drops her face to hide against Santiago’s shoulder for a couple of moments before he moves away. He musses up Carolina’s hair, and that reminds her of something. “Oh! And I found major colors for your hair for halloween, sidekick of mine. We’ll totally freak out ya daddy before we tell him it washes out.”
She settles to sit, joining them on the rickety porch while they banter the matter at hand. Kissing. Ok for mama’s and daddy’s, not so for friends. “So – ya have to be a mommy or daddy to kiss? Is that the deal? But what if ya jus’ get hitched, married, an’ ain’t havin no babies yet?” These things are important, after all. “An’ what if ya might someday GET married… kin ya kiss then?”
[Santiago Durante] At the promise to frighten her father around Halloween time, Carolina has nothing but smiles and amiable nods to give any indication that this is an acceptable plan.
Then the line of questioning. Carolina is used to this, being goaded by adults to get some sort of a response from her, and she thinks nothing of it. Adults are just as curious as she is, she figures, they think she has all the answers.
“I dunno,” is the answer she comes up with as Santiago breaks the ice cream out of the bag and passes it around. “I don’t kiss my friends.”
“Are you friends with any boys?”
“No. Just you and Uncle Augi. All the boys at my school are gross.”
[Danny Jones] She takes her spoon from the little girl, and watches her as she answers the questions, and grins over at Santiago – shameless, she is. “Ok – well. If someone ain’t gonna have no babies, an’ ain’t married, but has a boyfriend – someone’s they likes an awful lot, would it be ok to kiss then? Say, if’n they’s 16 or so, or maybe older, an’ a grown up? Does they gotta be mommy an’ daddy’s first?”
Pause, and a grin. “An boys yer age ARE gross. They gotta get over the whole booger pickin stage before they start gettin better.” Nods. She scoops out her first bite of ice cream and plops it between her lips to suck on as she waits for the little girls answers. She’s gonna be a hella questioner of authority when she grows up if Danny has anything to do with it.
[Santiago Durante] “I dunno,” she says again, cramming a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and sucking on it until she can come up with an answer to her playmate’s question. Santiago is simply sitting back and watching the proceedings.
In the distance, a gun goes off. Or perhaps it is a car backfiring. It is difficult to tell the two apart, and given the fact that the two do not react to it, but the party in the backyard falls momentarily silent… it is probably a firearm. This is a common occurrence in this neighborhood, particularly around this time of year.
The matter at hand remains so, even after Carolina has swallowed her spoonful, and she has not forgotten it.
“I guess it would be okay. It’s still icky, though.”
[Santiago Durante] ((Pause, cuz Jamie’s a wussy!))