Chapter 2

Charly the American

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TOCAYO
Part 1
Prologue
Playa Norte
Charly the American
A Catholic Education
Cold Showers
A Peruvian Name...
Tossing Armando...
Bob Cousey's Shorts
Inside Immaculada
Warming the Bench...
A Little Socrates...
Running From Lola
Ping Pong Politics
A Perfect Basketball Day
A Man Needs His Friends
A Pig In a Hole
Condors Over Ticlio
Wrestling in the Plaza
Handcuffs and Curfews
Rochabus
A Hero Hiding
Hitting A Brick Wall
Part 2

Without responding, the gringo stood up. Slowly. As if he’d been considering it for the last 20 minutes. And after he stood up, he turned around and opened his locker. He made noise inside like he was hunting for something, then brought out a book. He looked at it, taking his time to make sure it was the one he really wanted, then slammed the locker shut. Hard.

I jumped. The entire class jumped, and half of them turned around. The gringo, he sat down and started to read his book somewhere in the middle of the pages.

I turned around and looked at Buque. “I did say hello in English, didn’t I?” I asked him quietly. “Do you think he doesn’t speak Spanish?”

Buque shrugged.

I licked my lips and tried again.

“Gringo, perhaps you are from New York?”

The American answered without taking his eyes off his book. "Why would I be from New York? America has 50 states."

At least this was progress. I thought for a moment. "OK," I said after a small pause, "I only know New York and California, so if you are coming from another state, then please tell me because I do not know what name it has."

Charly turned and gave me a classic blank American stare. "New York," he said.

I turned to Buque, hunched my shoulders, and spread my arms out wide as if to ask, what is the matter with gringos!! Javier didn’t know any better than I did. Perhaps we would have to study them a little closer.

Armed with the noble baton of scientific inquiry, I turned back to Charly. "So maybe you know my brother's friend?"

Charly turned in his seat and stared hard at me. “Do I look like I know your brother’s friend?"

I wanted to laugh. I really did. Satisfying as a good laugh would have been, I had to sacrifice my joy for the sake of science. I paused for a moment. "I’m sorry,” I finally said, turning in my seat to face Charly, “This must be an American idiom, no? I do not know what it look like to know somebody. I did not know that this knowledge come with a particular look.”

Charly closed his book and stared out the window.

It was clear that I had won. My calm and rational response had disabled the gringo’s belligerence. I flashed my eyebrows victoriously at Javier. Then I turned back to Charly. "He live in Peru," I added quickly, perhaps too quickly, "before, my brother's friend, he live in Peru before, but now he live in New York...."

I stopped talking. The gringo had reached across the space between us and grabbed me by the throat. He had my tie and the collar of my shirt twisted in his fist, and the rest of me pulled halfway out of my seat, my face two inches from his face.