Cholo

Pee Bee, Smokey, and I stood in the entry of a home I’d recently obtained a construction contract on. In addition to remodeling the kitchen, I was hired to remove the carpet in the great room, and replace it with ceramic tile.

I waved my hand toward the floor. “So. What do you think?”

Smokey took a long pull on his vape, inhaled, and then crossed his arms in front of his chest. As he gazed around the room, he exhaled a huge cloud of smoke, and nodded his head. “I can do it.”

“No fucking shit, Smoke. I know you can do it. How much?”

At 6’- 4”, Smokey was considerably shorter than Pee Bee’s 6’-8”, but he looked taller due to his long, lean muscles. His neatly cut hair made him look more like a tattooed car salesman than a biker.

But, he was a Filthy Fucker through and through. He raised the device to his mouth, took another long drag, and looked at me. “Thirteen grand.”

The home was in La Jolla, a small coastal town thirty miles south of Oceanside. The majority of the homes were priced in the tens of millions, and it wasn’t a place I’d normally look for – or obtain – work.

The homeowner called me on a recommendation from a former customer of mine, and upon meeting him, we hit it off. I could have overpriced the job and still obtained the work, but I didn’t.

I kept the price as competitive as I could, and I was going to make sure Smokey did the same.

I nodded toward Smokey’s vape and then shot him a shitty glare. “What’s in that thing, weed?”

He coughed a laugh, and exhaled, filling the room with a thick film of smoke. “Smokin’ lemon cake pop today.”

“Lemon cake pop and fucking weed. You’re high as fuck if you’re thinking thirteen, Brother.” I said. “Are we looking at the same house?”

“Thirteen grand is a good deal,” he said.

“Yeah, if it’s 1,300 square feet. It’s not. It’s 1,000. It ought to be ten grand.”

“Carpet’s got to come up,” he said.

“That’ll take two guys six hours, max. That ain’t three grand.”

“You pull the carpet, I’ll do it for twelve.”

“I’ll pull the carpet and give you ten. Not a fucking dime more.”

He raised the vape to his lips, paused, and looked at me. “Eleven.”

I shook my head. “You must be high. Crip asks why I don’t give the fellas work, and you come here and try to rob me. That’s why. Ten a square foot is standard. I’ll pay the standard, and not a dime more. Ten or you and your little smoke box can kick rocks.”

He took another hit off the device and then nodded. “I’ll do it for ten.”

Pee Bee laughed. “He’s trying to stick ya, Cholo.”

Smokey exhaled his smoke in my face, enveloping me in a thick cloud of the sweet-smelling vapor.

“God damn it, Smoke. What did I tell you about that shit? That fucker’s gonna kill you. I don’t want it to kill me.”

“Better’n smokin’,” he said.

“According to who?”

“Me.”

“I heard they give you popcorn lung.”

“What the fuck’s popcorn lung?” Pee Bee asked.

“Comes from diacetyl,” Smokey said. “It’s a chemical used in butter flavoring for popcorn. Bunch of fuckers at a popcorn plant years ago got puss pockets in their lungs from ingesting it, and they called it popcorn lung. Haters started saying this will cause it.”

“Fuck, dude,” Pee Bee said. “Why would you smoke it?”

“The juice I smoke doesn’t have diacetyl in it. Chinese shit does, American shit doesn’t.”

Pee Bee stepped toward the door. “How the fuck you know where it comes from?”

“My smoke shop makes it. They’ve got to report to the feds now, they govern the shit. Like everything else.”

“Keep that fucker away from me,” Pee bee warned. “Blow it in my face, I’ll knock your ass out.”

“It’s water vapor.”

“Keep your water vapor to yourself, Smoke.”

“Ditto,” I said.

“Pussies,” Smokey said with a laugh.

“So, you’ll do it for ten?” I asked.

He slipped the smoke box into his pocket. “Yep.”

“Plan on starting next week.”

“Don’t you have to give this guy a price?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Already did.”

“And you’ve already got a contract?”

“Yep.”

“What’d you bid the flooring at?”

I grinned. “Thirteen.”

“What the fuck?”

“Man’s got to make money,” I said. “I charged him low retail, and I pay you wholesale.”

“Asshole,” he hissed.

I patted my hand against my wallet. “Asshole that’s saving money.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Pee bee said. “Being in this big son-of-a-bitch makes me nervous.”

We followed Pee Bee outside. I locked the front door and set the alarm. Standing on the massive porch overlooking the courtyard, the three of us stared in awe at the incredibly beautiful landscape of the yard and courtyard.

“Who the fuck owns this mansion, anyway?”

“Young kid,” I said. “He’s like 24 or 25 or something.”

Pee Bee went bug-eyed. “No shit? Place has got to be worth what? Twenty million?”

“Thirty-five,” I said. “He said he inherited it.”

“What’s he do for a living?”

“Invests money. That’s it,” I said. “This kid had no family, bumped into the previous owner by chance, and they ended up hitting it off. Then, the guy left it to him in his will. Kid said the owner was one cool dude, though.”

“Gave him this place? No shit?”

“My hand to God. Cars, furniture, bank account, everything. Even his security guard. Kid said the guy just left everything to him.”

“Damn.” He shook his head. “Hey, speaking of kids, how’s that girl from the dope house? Your old neighbor’s daughter?”

“She’s good. I was gonna ask you about her anyway. You got time when we get back to the clubhouse to talk for a bit?”

“Sure.”

“What? We’re not brothers now?” Smokey asked, stepping off the porch as he spoke. He turned toward us. “Can’t say anything around me?”

“I’m not looking to have you try and shove your opinion down my throat, Smoke. Your about as open-minded as communist dictator.”

“What the fuck’s that mean?” he asked.

“Means you and that fucker in North Korea have a lot in common.”

“Fuck you,” he hissed.

“It’s true. It’s your way, or no way at all,” I said. “You aren’t open to change.”

“What the fuck you lookin’ to change?”

“I don’t want to change anything. I was just looking to talk.”

“Talk, then,” he said.

I shook my head. “Let’s get.”

“Talk, motherfucker. We’re brothers. Fuckers Forever.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Forever Fuckers,” I said, finishing our motto.

“So, talk,” he said.

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Alright. But this shit stays here.”

Pee Bee nodded. “No problem.”

I looked at Smokey.

“I’m staying out of it,” he said.

“Stays here,” I growled. “Every word.”

“Sure thing, Cholo.”

“So, what’s up?” Pee Bee asked.

“Well, you know about the neighbor, right?”

“Yeah. Her mom? Your old high school squeeze.”

“Not my squeeze,” I said. “She was just some chick I crushed on hard.”

“So, you never fucked with her?”

“Nope.”

He looked confused. “No hand-jobs? Nothing?”

“Not even a fucking hug.”

“Wasn’t much of a girlfriend, then,” Smokey said.

I glared at him.

His hands shot in the air. “I’ll stay out of it.”

“She lived across the street, and I gawked at her for six or eight years. Then, they moved away. Her daughter, who I thought all along was her little sister, gets nabbed, and after getting nowhere with the cops, she goes to our old house, which is still my mother’s place. She gets my sister, and my sister tells her to come to the place I was remodeling,” I explained, setting the stage, so to speak.

“Why’s she think you can help? I mean, you can, and you did, but why does she think so?” Pee Bee asked.

“The guys that took her were Mexicans, and I used to be in a gang when I was a kid.”

He nodded. “Gotcha. She thinks you’ve still got roots.”

I nodded. “Yep.”

“Where you headed with this deal?” Pee Bee asked, his face covered with a guilty grin. “You gonna do the mother-daughter deal? Make one of ‘em lick your butt while the other sucks your cock?”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Smokey chimed. “A fucking blowjob sandwich.”

I shot Smoke a shitty glare.

His hands shot in the air. “I’ll just listen.”

I turned toward Pee Bee. “Nothing like that, Brother. Just listen. I go over there the other night to check on the daughter. You know, to see if she’s okay. When I get there, mom’s there, but the daughter’s gone. I sit on the couch, and the mom starts feeling my leg, inching her hand a little closer to my cock every few minutes. Now, remember, I’ve never done shit with this bitch, nor have I told her how I felt when I was a kid. I mean, shit. I was 14 when she was 24. I was 21 or 22 when she left, and she was 32.”

“Damn, she lived with her folks all that time?”

“Yeah. But at the time, I didn’t know how old she was. I knew she was older, but not that much older. And, I thought the daughter was her little sister, remember that. The family kind of led all the neighbors to believe that.”

Pee bee nodded. “Okay.”

“So, mom’s rubbing my leg, and the daughter shows up. Now, I can’t control my fucking Johnson, so it’s hard as fuck when the daughter gets there. Anyway, so the mom and me leave to get some more wine, and when we do--”

“Wait,” Pee Bee said. “You’re sitting around drinking wine with them?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. You left that part out.”

“I took a bottle of fucking wine with me trying to be polite.”

“Motherfucker,” Smokey said. “You took a bottle of wine hoping to tap both their asses. I know you, remember?”

“God damn it, Smoke!”

“I’ll just listen,” he said.

I shook my head at Smoke’s comment, and then shifted my attention to Pee Bee. “Alright. We go to get more wine, and mom’s all hanging on me and shit--”

“Was she drunk?” Pee Bee asked.

“Kind of.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Well, I get back to the house, and pretty soon, mom’s drunker’n a fucking monkey. She goes to bed, and I’m sitting there staring at the daughter. She’s staring back at me all smiling and shit. I flip out and tell her I gotta go, and then leave. Then, the other night I went over there and we ended up making tacos and I stayed eight fucking hours afterward watching Californication on Netflix.”

“With the mom or the daughter?” Pee Bee asked.

“Daughter.”

“Hank Moody ain’t on Netflix,” Smokey said.

“Well, it was on something, and we watched it.”

“Good show, ain’t it?”

“Pretty good,” I said, half irritated that he was intervening in the conversation.

Smokey took a pull off his vape, exhaled into the air, and nodded. “Hank pulls some serious ass. That guy fucks some puss for sure. Girl asked you to watch that, she was trying to get in your pants, Brother.”

I acted like I didn’t hear him, and stayed focused on Pee Bee. “What I was wondering was would it be weird if I ask the daughter out?”

“Ask her out?” He arched an eyebrow. “Like ask her out? On a date?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He blurted out a laugh, and when he noticed the only one laughing with him was Smokey, he stopped.

After he caught his breath, he looked at me in disbelief. “Since when do you ask anybody out? You just fuck bitches.”

“Same as you, asshole,” I snapped back.

He chuckled. “I met someone and settled down.”

“Well. That’s what I’m asking. Would it be weird if--”

“Weird how?” Smokey asked.

“Just weird,” I responded. I alternated glances between them, waiting on an answer.

“Hank Moody fucked a 16-year-old. You see that episode?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I saw it. She’s 21, not 16. And, I’m not Hank fucking Moody.”

Smokey took another pull on his deal, and exhaled a plume of smoke. “You just trying to stick this chick full of dick and hope the mom don’t find out?”

“No.”

“What are you trying to do,” Pee Bee asked.

“That’s just it. I ain’t sure.”

He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at me. “What the fuck are you asking me?”

“I want to invite Alexandra, the daughter, over for dinner.”

“What’s your question?”

“Would it be weird?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it would.”

I was afraid that’s what he’d say. “How?” I asked.

“I’ve known you for what? Seven, eight years?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“All you’ve ever done is fuck bitches and kick ‘em aside. So would it be weird for you to ask one on a date? Yeah, it’d be weird. Why? ‘Cause you don’t ask bitches on dates.”

“Okay,” I said with a nod. “Is that the only reason?”

“Yeah. What else would there be?”

I shrugged. “Age difference. Her mom. That kind of stuff. And just, the whole deal with, you know, what happened.”

“She’s what? You said 21, right?”

I nodded.

He shook his head. “She’s 21, you’re 30. Who fucking cares.”

“31.”

“Like I said. Who fucking cares. Then, the mom? You don’t owe that bitch nothing. You looking to hook up with her, too?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“I am now.”

“That little bitch sucked your cock, didn’t she?” Smokey asked. “When you were watching Californication.”

I cleared my throat and shot him a glare. “Smoke, I’m gonna come down off this fucking porch and pound your skinny ass if you keep it up.”

“God damn, Cholo. Settle down, motherfucker. But did she?”

“I mean it,” I hissed.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Pee Bee said.

“I like that,” I said.

“Best saying, ever,” Smokey said.

I looked at Pee Bee. “Here’s the thing. I’ll be honest. I don’t know if it’s because of the whole deal at the dope house, or what, but I feel some weird connection to this chick that I can’t explain. I don’t know if it’s because she’s so fucking cute, or if it’s because I see her mother in her, or if it’s because deep down inside I want to fuck this chick, and I’m making up excuses, but I want to see what happens with her, and I don’t want to do it wrong.”

“You probably don’t want to do it wrong because of what she’s been through, Brother. You’re just trying to protect her.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. I nodded in agreement. “Good point.”

“As far as the other shit goes, if you don’t know the answer, nobody does. I can tell you this: nobody was wilder than me, and when I met Tegan…” His mouth curled into a smirk and he shook his head. “Man, I’m telling ya. Shit changed like that.”

He snapped his fingers.

“You didn’t see it coming?” I asked.

“Shit, Brother. It was like I got hit by a bus. But before that? I wondered. Just like you are now. And there I was, treating this girl different than anyone I’d ever met. We went for rides, and I didn’t try and fuck her. We went to dinner, and I didn’t try and fuck her. Hell, I was scared to kiss her when I took her home from our date. Dude, it was bat shit crazy.”

“Are you shittin’ me?” I coughed a laugh. “You? Scared to kiss a bitch?”

He chuckled. “True fucking story, I’m telling ya. But listen. My pop said this. When you know, you know. And, he was right. The only way you’re going to find out is to try. So, ask the chick out. If the mom doesn’t like it, tell her to kick rocks.”

I extended my hand. “Appreciate you, Brother.”

And, just like that, I made my decision.

I was going to ask Alexandra out on an official date.

To my mother’s house.