23. Deck
Chapter twenty-three
Deck
“ Y ou aim the gun at the juncture of the baseboard and the tile and pull the trigger here,” I explained. “Once you have it in a nice, even line, you run this tool over it to smooth it down.”
“Alright, can I try?” Reign’s eagerness as they reached for the caulking gun amused me. They still mostly communicated with sullen stares and noncommittal noises, but it flowed a little easier since I’d gotten permission for them to help me with projects.
“Yes, but how about you practice on these spare boards first? Then once you find your rhythm, it’ll be a lot easier to crawl down and do it on the actual floor tile.”
Reign nodded and grabbed the boards.
I stood and stretched. I’d been working on the ground all day. Even though I took breaks and wore knee pads, this type of labor was exhausting.
After assessing the extent of the damage to the bathroom, I’d volunteered to do more than simply fix the toilets and surrounding areas.
It wouldn’t be a full remodel, but close to it.
Juan and I had leftover materials from another commercial job, and the company was happy to donate those items to the Center.
I planned to replace all the toilets and stall dividers, along with the tile on the floors and walls.
I’d also gotten updated sinks to replace the rusty trough-style one, which looked like something out of a horror movie.
I ran my ideas by Cori yesterday afternoon, and she seemed grateful, not just for my offer but also because the practical discussion put us back on neutral ground. Something we needed after our conversation that morning in front of the same ancient sink.
When she’d asked me what kind of life I wanted.
When she made me realize I still wanted the same thing I had at eighteen.
Except how could I ever have it? After everything.
I wiped an elbow across my brow, keeping an eye on Reign. We needed to wrap up soon so I could help Cori with the dance setup in the gym.
After the first day we met, Reign asked to help me.
I wasn’t cleared to interact with kids unless there were other staff members or volunteers around, so Marisol came up with a workaround.
She made sure there was always a volunteer in the room with Reign and me.
Generally, she grabbed the least-invested person she could find—there were plenty of volunteers at the Center who weren’t there for any sort of altruistic motives, but rather to earn credit hours for class—with the instruction to stand around and serve as an extra body while I taught Reign how to do things.
So while Reign practiced with the caulking gun, Sandra, the volunteer, played on her phone and ignored both of us.
“I told my dad I was helping the contractor at the Center,” Reign told me.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.” They kept their eyes firmly on the boards in front of them. “He’s annoyed I don’t play sports, and he hates my art, so I figured maybe I’d tell him about this, and he’d like it.”
My stomach dropped. I didn’t feel equipped for this conversation, fearing its direction.
“What did he say?” I asked mildly.
“He slapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Great idea, Ricardo. Maybe we’ll make a man out of you yet.’”
I winced. And I was seventeen again, watching Eliazar’s parents reject him.
“I’m sorry, Reign. It sucks that he said that, that he can’t see who you are.”
They put the caulking gun down, sitting back against the newly mounted stall divider.
“I almost didn’t come today. When my dad said that, I thought maybe I shouldn’t help you anymore.
Because, you know, fuck that guy and making him happy.
Like maybe I should take a ballet class instead.
Or do makeup tutorials online. Even if I have no fucking interest in ballet. ”
I let the f-bombs slide. “And the makeup?”
Reign shrugged. “Not my thing.”
I slid down onto the floor across from them.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you came.
For you, not your dad. And you know I’m a construction worker, not a trained professional for working with youth.
Marisol or Rosa could probably say things better.
” I glanced at Sandra again, confirming her continuing obliviousness.
“But if you don’t mind hearing this from someone whose primary life skill is wielding a drill, I hope you know that the way your dad is acting is a him problem, not a you problem.
” I whooshed the air from my lungs. “I could lie and say he’ll come around, but he probably won’t.
The upside is, you don’t need to let him get to you either.
You can just…not care. You don’t have to make him see that he’s wrong for you to know that he is. ”
It was probably shitty advice. To tell a kid they would always fight with their pops. Then again, Reign had been sitting on the couch for months, barely talking to anyone. If they were finally opening up to me, of all people, I sure as hell was going to honor it by being truthful.
Reign nodded. “I hear what you’re saying. It’s just…a shitty situation.”
“True. But it’s not your job to fix him, Reign. And just so we’re very, very clear. Your dad is wrong. Full stop.”
“Thanks.” It was barely audible, but I’d take it.
“Out of curiosity, what made you decide to come today? Not that you wouldn’t have killed it at ballet.”
They smirked. “I really wanted to use this caulking gun.”
Reign departed the Center almost immediately after we blocked off the bathroom for the night. I asked why they weren’t staying for the dance, and they laughed like it was the funniest joke they’d ever heard.
Afterward, I told Cori and Marisol about my talk with Reign. I wanted to be transparent in case I’d done something wrong.
“It’s not exactly protocol, but you didn’t do anything truly egregious ,” Cori said, and we shared a fond look at her use of another SAT word.
Marisol practically bounced. “It’s progress. I mean, it sucks that their dad is a dick and still calls them by their dead name, but the fact that Reign confided in you is great. Sometimes, they talk to Rosa, but not about this.”
“Okay, good. And for the record, Reign is a natural at construction and has been genuinely helpful.”
Shouting came from the gym, reaching us all the way in the atrium.
“I’m going to see what’s up,” Marisol said. “It’s been crazy today with all the kids packed into one side.”
That morning, Chuck and I had heaved a massive, accordion-style divider into the center of the gym.
One half was still available for basketball, while the other was off-limits because of the dance setup.
I’d attached four spotlights to the rafters over the stage Cori rented for the DJ, along with string lights across the center of the space.
The DJ had already arrived and was hooking up her PA to the gym’s central system.
I still had to hang the giant disco ball and set up tables for food.
Cori eyed me carefully. “That conversation with Reign… I’m guessing it made you think of Eliazar.”
My lips tightened before I said, “Eliazar always felt bad. Not for being gay, but for letting down his parents. There was no way to square that circle.” I pushed a fist against the counter, remembering.
“Having his mom and pops reject him broke something inside him. He used drugs and sex to numb out. Having us—his brothers—wasn’t enough. ”
Cori covered my fist with her hand, pulling my arm down. “You were enough, Deck. Eliazar just got caught up.” She held my gaze. “And it’s not going to be that way for Reign.”
The unmistakable slapping sound of hits landing on bodies cut through the air.
“I’d better find out what’s happening,” Cori said.
Following her hurried steps to the open half of the gym, we found Chuck and Marisol attempting to break up a fistfight.
Two older boys were throwing punches while the other kids formed a loose circle around them. Wide-eyed volunteers kept the onlookers away from the fighters.
After one boy landed a vicious kidney shot, his opponent’s grunt of pain echoed off the concrete walls.
“Jayden! Tycho!” Chuck yelled. “Knock it off!” Even though Chuck was extremely fit for a man in his late fifties, he struggled to insert himself between the two young men.
They attacked one another like rabid dogs, hurling their fists with no skill or finesse.
Street brawling, my brother Emilio would call it.
One of the teens turned his face toward me.
Jayden. I’d learned his name over the past few weeks because he attracted a lot of attention.
The kid was a hothead, regularly breaking the rules and getting sent home.
For a moment, we locked gazes, and it was just enough time for the other kid, Tycho, to launch his knuckles into Jayden’s jaw.
Jayden’s head whipped to the left, taking the hard hit, and his body followed the motion as he stumbled backward to stay on his feet. He spat blood onto the gym floor. “That all you got, dickface?” he taunted.
Before Tycho could fly back at him, Chuck took advantage of the break to step between the two, grabbing Jayden from behind and tightening his arms at his sides. “That’s enough! Cool down. Now!”
Marisol attempted to apply the same hold to Tycho, but took a slap to the cheek when he resisted. Her hand flew to her face where he’d struck her.
The sight of Marisol touching her jaw—on the side where the burn scars were—momentarily stunned the room.
Everything in me wanted to beat the crap out of the little shit, but I held myself in check, conscious of the fact I’d just gotten off parole.
Tycho was instantly contrite. “Oh shit, Miss Mari. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. It was an accident, I swear. I would never—”
Marisol held up her hand. “It’s okay, Tycho.
It was just a tap. I know you wouldn’t hit me on purpose.
” She exhaled. “But I wish you would have shown Jayden the same respect. I’m getting so tired of telling you boys not to solve things with your fists.
You shouldn’t be doing it out on the streets, and you definitely shouldn’t be bringing it into the Center. ”
The kids who had been holding their phones lowered them quietly.
I’d seen my sister in action since I’d started working through my repair list, and this was another example of her top-notch leadership.
I was so proud of the way she kept her cool.
And especially the way she commanded everyone’s respect.
Marisol glared at Jayden. “Do I even want to know what the fight was about?”
“Nah. Just some shit from school.”
“Shit from school!” Tycho snarled. “Is that what you call it when you fuck my girl!?”
A slow smile spread across Jayden’s face. “Is she really your girl if she begged to suck my dick?”
“Motherfucker!”
Jayden’s gaze narrowed. “You get one of those, asshole,” he said to Tycho, voice deadly serious. “I’ll let it pass since, yeah, I fucked your girl. But unless you wanna get jumped tomorrow, I’d fucking let this go, bruh.”
Chuck and Marisol exchanged glances as though silently communicating about how long to let the conversation play out. Since the teens seemed to be calming down, they didn’t intervene.
“Fine!” Tycho sneered, a flash of fear crossing his features.
“Alright, both of you yahoos need to get out of my gym,” Chuck said.
I didn’t realize Cori had slipped away until she reappeared at my side carrying an ice pack, holding it out to Marisol.
“Chuck is right,” Marisol said levelly, putting the cold gel against her cheek. “And you’re both suspended until next week. Come back on Monday. With much better attitudes.”
“Yes, Miss Mari,” Tycho said. He sidestepped around Jayden to grab his backpack from against the wall, mumbling, “Sorry again,” to my sister as he passed us.
Jayden sat down, wiping his wrist against his bleeding mouth until Chuck came up to him with another ice pack. “Take this and get out of here, Muhammad Ali. See you Monday. And just come for basketball, okay, not MMA.”
Jayden chuckled, accepting Chuck’s hand to lift himself off the floor. “I’ll try, man. But you know how it is.”
Chuck neither agreed nor disagreed. He blew his whistle and did his best to wrangle the other kids back into some semblance of a game, reminding them to keep their noses down unless they also wanted to get suspended and miss the dance.
On his way out, Jayden paused by Marisol and said, “I didn’t know Shayna was his girlfriend. She never said. I wouldn’t have gotten with her if I’d known ’cuz that’s fucked up.”
Marisol nodded. “Just leave him alone now, alright? It’s over.”
“Dang,” I said, once Jayden was outside. “That was exciting.”
Cori watched until he reached the sidewalk. “He really is a good kid. Deep down. I wish we could figure out a way to channel all that energy into something positive.”
“We’ll keep trying,” Marisol said.
“What’s his deal, anyway?” I asked. “I don’t want to judge or anything, but he doesn’t seem like a kid who’d come to the Center. Especially not at his age.”
“He comes because his mom wants him to,” Marisol explained.
“His brother, Greg, got locked up a few years ago, and now their mom is terrified Jayden will end up the same way. He comes here to make her happy, but you can see it in his eyes. He wants something more. Greg was a petty dealer, maybe worse. Before he went away, he had money and a sweet car. I know that’s in Jayden’s head. ”
“Too bad the going to prison part isn’t in his head,” I quipped.
“From your lips, brother,” Marisol said. “Greg’s old crew wouldn’t mind adding Jayden in, if you know what I mean. But he doesn’t want to break his mother’s heart. Maybe coming here helps. I hope.”
“It helps,” Cori said, slinging an arm around Marisol’s shoulders. “Every day he’s here and not out there helps.”
Optimistic words. But I saw the look in Jayden’s eyes after he threw that punch. I’d seen it before. In the mirror. Reminding me it only took one bad decision to ruin everything.