“Your dad better cut out all the Spanish cracks.”
I continued looking up at the plant I was watering. “One, two, three...”
“That shit ain’t funny,” Rubin said.
“...eight, nine, ten.” I moved to the next plant.
“I only hear one voice counting, Rubin,” Dad said. “If you like, you can count in Spanish.”
“Cut out the Spanish jokes, man,” Rubin replied, loud enough for Dad to hear him this time.
“I’m just trying to make you feel more comfortable,” Dad said. “Don’t y’all speak Spanish at home?”
“My parents do, but not me.”
“Well, count in English then,” Dad said. “Just as long as y’all water each plant for ten seconds, that’s what I’m concerned about.”
Rubin counted and made faces at me. Most of them involved him batting his eyes, exaggerating his mouth, and sticking his tongue out; though he only did this when Dad wasn’t
watching us.
When we finished, Dad told us we had the rest of the day off. “Rubin,” Dad said, “you’ll probably want to swim first to get that white shit off your face.”
Rubin walked out of the greenhouse and to the pool, where he kicked off his shoes and walked in up to his knees. He would have walked further, but Dad’s voice stopped him: “I don’t
swim in your washing machine, so don’t clean your clothes in my pool.”
“What?”
“Those shorts you got on,” Dad says, “aren’t swimming trunks and you’ve been working in ‘em, got dust and bird shit all over ‘em and now you’re about to get all that in my pool. Clog up the filter is what you’ll do. Did you a bring pair to swim in?”
“Yes, sir,” Rubin said stepping out of the pool.
“Put them on, and then you can swim.”
Dad and I stood in the greenhouse door watching Rubin walk in the house. “Wesley, you go inside too. I don’t want him in our house alone.”
I didn’t want to tell Dad that I didn’t want to be alone in our house—or anyone else’s house—with Rubin, so I stayed quiet, acting like I didn’t hear him.
“Go on, boy, before Rubin pockets something.”
“He won’t steal anything.”
“How do you know?”
“You come too, in case he is taking something. Then we will be witnesses.”
“Good thinking, son. Don’t rely on his word versus yours,” replied Dad, and we walked across the lawn and into the house together.
Dad stopped in the kitchen and rubbed crushed garlic on a roast he was about to put in the oven, while I made my way deeper into the house and prayed that Rubin wasn’t changing in my room. The bathroom, with the door closed, was where he should be. But, of course, he wasn’t. In my room, Rubin stood naked with dick in hand. “Been waiting on you, man.”
I slammed the bedroom door in front of me and looked back at the kitchen to make sure Dad was still there. He was stooped in front of the open oven. I opened my bedroom door just wide enough to fit my face through, and said: “Put some clothes on. Dad’s in the kitchen and could be here in three steps.”
I couldn’t go in my room because of Rubin, and Dad wanted me to watch Rubin for stealing, so I couldn’t go to the kitchen. All I could do was stand in the hall, and I decided that I was going to wait until Rubin was in the pool before I changed in my room. The bedroom door remained shut. Was Rubin still waiting? Was he stupid enough to try that with Dad here? I opened the door again and stuck only my head in, and when I saw Rubin tying the drawstring of his swimming trunks I walked in but kept the door open.
“Don’t worry,” Rubin said, “I’ll leave.”
“Good.”
“I know you don’t want me see your bitch tits.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your flabby titties, man. Everyone at the dojo knows they’re why you always show up in uniform. It’s cool, man. If I had them, I wouldn’t want anyone to see them.”
Rubin shook his head at me with downcast eyes and left the room. I heard him tell Dad the roast smelled delicious, and he asked if Dad would be joining us in the pool. No? Rubin wanting to know if Dad would swim with us made me wonder if Rubin had something planned for me in the pool.
Instead of putting on my swim trunks, I put on the local hard rock radio station.
“What you doin’ with that long-hair crap on for,” Dad said. “You’re supposed to be out there swimming with Rubin.”
“I don’t feel like swimming.”
“You too lazy to swim, boy? To go have fun?”
“It won’t be any fun with Rubin.”
“What you mean it won’t be fun? Don’t you like him no more, boy? That Rubin’s good for you. Being best friends with Bollars’s pet can help you gain belts faster.”
“Couldn’t I get a black belt somewhere else?”
“And start over somewhere else, lose the belt you gained, and throw away the money I’ve already spent on a year of lessons? You think money grows on trees? Out of all the plants your mama got in the greenhouse, don’t a damn one of ‘em bloom hundred dollar bills.”
“Forget the money. What about me?”
“All of this is about you.”
“Then why can’t I decide where I take tae kwon do?”
“Watch your tone with me, mister. Your ass may be big, but it ain’t too big for me to blister. Now go outside and swim with Rubin.”
“He’ll make fun of my chest.”
“Hell, boy, you’re gonna let someone keep you from swimming in your own pool at your house because you’re afraid he’ll make fun of you? I thought you had more backbone than that. If Rubin makes fun of you, maybe that’s good; maybe it’ll convince you to lose some of that weight. If you don’t come out of this room in your swimming trunks in the next five minutes, I’m coming back here with my belt.”
A spanking from Dad would hurt for a few hours. He always made me lie across the corner of their bed and keep a foot on the floor. Dad would double up the belt, lift it above his head, and slam it down with a crack. A few times I would glimpse over my shoulder at him and see that pain-filled and pleased grin on his face, looking just like he did when he beat the dogs with the chain. After every spanking, Dad would talk calmly to me, tell me he only did it because he loved me, wanted to teach me right from wrong, how to be a man. Nice words, but I didn’t think learning to get my ass whipped taught me how to be a man.
The only thing was that if I waited for Dad to return and spank me, he could be angry for days afterwards. If I went swimming with Rubin, I’d have to hear his degrading comments, but only while he was here. I could tolerate his mouth for a couple of hours. And if he got to talking too much, I’d simply go underwater and surface only to breathe, like a dolphin.
“The roast smells good,” I said, walking through the kitchen in my swimming trunks, a towel over my shoulders, hiding my chest.
Rubin was on the diving board, his hands above his head in a knife-shape, and I waited for him to dive in before lowering my towel and wading into the shallow end. Once in the water, I made certain to squat to keep my chest underwater. Rubin swam the length of the pool underwater and popped up in front of me. “There’s no need to try and hide those tits, man.”
“Why’d you come over here to be mean to me?”
“Why’d your dad invite me over just to work me like I belong to his plantation?”
“Is that it? You’re being mean to me because you’re pissed at Dad?”
“I’m not just pissed at your dad.”
“Me too? Why?”
“You know why.”
“Were you pissed at me before you came over today?”
“Not pissed, but I had wondered why you weren’t at tae kwon do. I thought maybe I scared you, man. But today, all this shit you and your dad are putting me through, now I’m pissed. Your life back at the dojo is going to be hell, man.”