STARLIGHT

Snowfall was inevitable. With the blustery breeze and wicked wind of the winter season punishing the streets of Parkchester, three brave workers, commonly referred to as the most essential, exited their place of work, the Step In Diner. Since this pandemic purged

their industry, the three busboys have been shorted their regular work hours. Some days, they get as little as two hours a day. Even with the take-out business picking up steam, there were few dishes to wash, insufficient tables to clean, and no customers to assist. The business was in a coma, slowly dying like the thousands in nearby hospitals.

It was 4:30 a.m., and after a long Friday night, Mason, a line cook, had just been let go. Now, he had to go home to his sleeping family, who were supported by diner leftovers for dinner and his tips and scraps of income to pay their rent.

“It’s a shame that nothing is left. Not one of these stores can stay open because of this bullshit, not a one. Everybody is home, scared shitless. And when we’re outside, we’re all wearing these stupid masks. We’re all on edge, like we’re suffocating. There’s no air out here, not a single breath,” said Mason.

“And now, not a single job,” said Jose, one of the fired busboys.

“Motherfuckers were barely getting money before this bullshit pandemic. It’s even worse now. Everybody is stuck in the house, doing nothing—“

“Except for us,” said Marcos, another fired busboy. “We’re the so-called essential workers. It’s so important that these people eat their bullshit salads and wraps.”

“Don’t forget the cheeseburger deluxe and bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches,” laughed Jose.

“All these fuckers talking about bullshit, too, said Marcos. “All this political theater and shit. They want to get their hot takes off and force people to agree. But nobody listens to each other. People do all this talking and labeling. She, him, they, her, all that. But man, whatever happened to WE?”

“I’m not trying to hear none of that,” said Mason. “I got my own shit to deal with. I don’t want to be labeled unemployed.”

“We need to get back to some common sense these days.” He took a swing from his small bottle of whiskey.

“I don’t get it anymore,” said Marcos. “Nobody wants to work or feel pain, but they all claim to be victims of some shit. Come and work the line with us, and I’ll show these brats some hard, fucking work. I’m sick of this crybaby shit, bro, for real.”

“Damn, my G, tell us how you are really feeling,” laughed Mason.

“My bad, I’m just speaking my truth.”

At this moment, the Parkchester streets were barren. Only a few people perused the area by the elevated number six train station. It was wicked cold, and fear was omnipresent.

“Hey, fellas,” said Marcos, “my bus should be here in a few minutes. I’m going to the bodega for a chopped cheese and beer. Come through to my spot. I don’t have shit else to do for the rest of the night, might as well drink.”

“Yeah, I feel you,” said Jose. “I ain’t trying to spend too much money, so I’ll take a pass on that. Plus, the old lady got some food for me at home.”

“You’re a lucky motherfucker,” said Marcos, laughing, his breath creating clouds of smoke in the cold Bronx air.

“I gotta eat the bodega sandwiches like every other day. You better appreciate that woman.” “Oh, I do,” said Jose. “She knows that.”

“Aye, I gotta get this food before I miss this bus. I hope we get up soon, fellas. Let’s not have this be the last day we see each other.”

“No doubt,” said Jose. “I’ll call you this week, especially if I hear anything about a job.” “No doubt, my guys. You both be careful out there.”

Marcos entered the bodega on the corner of the block. Meanwhile, Jose and Mason walked toward the 6 train. They reached the top of the train platform landing and boarded the first incoming train. Both essential workers were lucky enough to find a seat to crash.

Mason thought about his journey to this melting pot. But he felt like he was inflamed with the pressures of protecting his family with his strength and salary. But he just lost the latter, and the former felt fragmented. With his eyes closed, he took a long, deep breath.

Papi ripped off a bunch of quenepas from the tree branch. “These are amazing,” he said.

He bit into the green shell of the small Spanish lime and removed the seed. He popped it into his mouth, and the fresh sweetness captivated his taste buds.

“There’s nothing better than this, Mijo,” he said to a then 13-year-old Mason.

Mason and his parent lived in Bayamon, Puerto Rico, twelve years ago. They enjoyed the summer vacation and basking in their native land’s culture.

“Can I try one?”

“Of course, Mijo. Take this one.”

“Don’t eat the whole thing,” said Papi. “You bite the shell, take out the seed, and suck the juice from it. Don’t chew or swallow it. We’re not trying to be in the hospital.”

Mason cautiously bit the shell and placed the fruit into his mouth. He enjoyed it as much as Papi had.

“What do you think?”

“It’s good. Why can’t we bite into this, though?”

“Shoot, I don’t know,” laughed Papi. “Do you want to be the first to try?” “I mean, I could,” said Mason.

“Try what?”

Mason’s mother entered their yard, holding their two-month-old daughter.

“I swear, I can’t trust the two of you together, she laughed. “You two are always wreaking havoc, trying out new things, like some daredevils. Risky business is not for us.”

Papi laughed.

“Who said? I’m a risk taker, baby. I love it.”

“Mi amor,” she said. You are not; what’s that man’s name, Evil Denivel?” Papi chuckled and bit into another quenepa.

“His name is Evil Kinevil, And we’re not doing anything crazy. He just wants to bite into one.” “Now, ya tu sabes that you can’t bite into those, so cut it out,” barked Mami.

“Mi amor, if I don’t allow him to take risks, he’s never going anywhere in life. He has to try new things. Take a chance here and there. That’s how I grew up. Like they say, el que no arriesga, no gana.” (He who doesn’t risk, doesn’t gain)

Mason briefly opened his eyes, ensuring he didn’t miss his station. He closed his eyes again for the next ten minutes.

“Yes, I know you like to take risks, pero, nada estupido.” (but, nothing stupid)

“Trust me, baby, we don’t take stupid chances in this house.”

The family home was humble, as Papi had spent most of his life working in the town’s factory. As he got older, he wanted to spend more time at home, especially with his growing son and newborn daughter. But the pressure was quickly mounting. The house needed maintenance, but his earnings weren’t enough to keep up with the required repairs. He couldn’t spend the time with his family as he wanted and instead worked more hours. He needed a new stream of revenue.

One day, a few of his co-workers informed him of the newest Susa a Sociedad (pyramid scheme group) group. The workers would form a group of small-time investors, where each member invested in the pyramid and waited for their turn to put their hand in the cookie jar. Then, another manager suggested using the Susu as a legitimate investment group with the local church. They were set to invest in local properties and businesses, but the economy crumbled, and none of the members got paid. Papi took the risk and received no reward.

The bills slowly mounted, and the house started to crumble from disrepair. Papi was stressed, embarrassed, and ashamed. Within six months, he lost all his savings. He then lost his job. Papi’s anxiety skyrocketed, and soon enough, he lost his life. Papi suffered a heart attack and died in his own home.

The family lost their leader, but Mami wouldn’t rest. She packed her family and belongings and took the long, scary ride to the South Bronx. Now, Mami was logging long hours as a home health aide. She worked for the next ten years until her body betrayed her. Diabetes and high blood pressure put her in bed. Now, it was Mason’s turn to take care of the family. And just like his Papi, he was at the crossroads of his life.

Mason opened his eyes and noticed he was close to his destination. “Yo, Jose. Wake up my G. I’m getting off at the next stop.”

“Oh shit,” said Jose. “Gracias.”

“You got a few more stops before you hit 110th Street.” “Get home safe.”

Mason placed his mask over his face and departed from the train. He walked outside toward Willis Avenue, trekking through the snow, gripping his two bags of dinner.

“I’m dirt poor,” he thought to himself. “And with this wet snow today, Mother Nature reminds me that I come from the mud. I just lost my job at the diner and don’t know how to pay next month’s rent. My mother is sick, she has diabetes and must take her medicine. No questions asked. My little sister needs her hair done and a new dress for her school dance, but I don’t know where I’ll get the money. They need me. They need my help, but I’m always anxious and afraid. I have too many cares in the world. But who cares, right? I gotta suck it up and do what I need to for my family. As a man.”

Mason waited at the corner for the stoplight. Red light, green light, 1,2,3. That childhood game was so long ago.

“They say the man of the house is supposed to bring home the groceries,” he mumbled. “I guess this is as good as it gets for me. Fuck, man. I guess this is better than nothing.”

Mason entered his building and slowly climbed the stairs up to his apartment. The heavy metal door creaked loudly, and Mason undressed and put away the groceries. After a hot shower, he

was ready for bed. But he heard a cough from his mother’s room and quietly walked to her bedroom. He peeked into his mother’s room, and she lay in her bed, her eyes slightly open.

“Bendicion, Mami,” said Mason. (blessings, Mom)

She smiled.

“Dios te bendiga,” she replied. (God bless you)

“What are you doing awake?” “I heard you come in.”

“I’m sorry if I woke you, Mami.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind being awakened by an angel.” “You spoil me too much with your words, Mami.”

“Mijo, at this point, it’s all I got to give you.”

Mason laughed to himself and sat at the edge of her bed.

“Esta bien. (ok, good) Your words are more than enough for me.” “More than money?”

“Of course,” he said.

“Then why do you work so hard, my son? You’re barely home.”

“Mami, no disrespect, but if I don’t work hard, I can’t take care of you and Estrella. I have to work.”

“Lo siento,” (I understand) she said while exhaling. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay, Mami. How are your feet?”

“They’re okay right now. But it’s early. Ask me again after breakfast.”

Mason looked down at the floor and fidgeted with his hands. He took a long, deep breath and exhaled.

“What’s wrong, my son?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Ma, but I got fired.” “Hay Mijo,” she lamented.

“I don’t need your sympathy or bendiciones right now. I need money to take care of things. To make sure that you have your medicine and your food. I have to make sure we have things for Estrella. I saw what Papi went through, and I don’t want that to happen again.”

“Mijo, you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Mami, come on now. This is real life, and you know this. I need to work.” “You will find another job. Why are you so worried?”

“It’s not that easy, Ma. Everything is so crazy right now. I don’t know what to do. This is so damn hard.”

Mason got up from the edge of the bed.

“Sometimes this just feels like it’s too much. I just want to leave.” “Leave what?”

“I don’t know, leave this world.”

“Leave this world? No, my son. You need to be grateful for the life that you have. A caballo regalado no se le mira el diente.” (don’t kick a gift horse in their teeth)

“Mami, please with the Puerto Rican proverbs. You don’t know how it is out there right now. It’s not time for that.”

“Oye, Mijo, Do you think I have never seen anything? Look at my eyes. Do you know what I’ve seen, Mijo? How many times have I had to see your grandparents struggle and fight? You see these hands? All these wrinkles and how many times I had held on to sick people that I cared for as a home attendant. You see these piercings in my ear? I swear every hole is for each time a man tried to call me out of my name. This nose? That you always make fun of? Do you know how many nights I had to smell the burning buildings in my neighborhood? The smell of the poppy fields and the smell of death? Do you know how often I had to starve or eat scraps just to ensure you and your sister could eat? I tasted my poverty every night. Mijo, there are so many ups and downs in this life, but one feeling remains the same for me. Do you know what that is?”

“Nah, Ma, you tell me.”

“My spirit. With all of life’s troubles, we never quit.”

“Pero Mami,” he interrupted. “Those times were different. Now, there’s plenty of opportunity for everybody, but they don’t want to give it to us. They would rather have us be poor and stuck in the dirt.”

“Yes, this world is cold, but think about your ancestors. Think about me and your family. We had it worse, and we never gave in or gave up. Never. What did they do when the world turned cold?”

“I don’t know Mami,” said Mason.

“We lit a match and blazed our way to fight back. We weren’t rich, but you know what? We made things work. We made our lives better the best way God allowed us to. And I am grateful. And you, Mijo, you must show gratitude.”

“Gratitude? What should I be grateful for? Papi is gone. We lost our house. We’re struggling here in the Bronx. You’re sick. And now I’m unemployed. I don’t have a lot to be grateful for, Ma.”

She sat up in her bed.

“Gratitude is not only for the good times. You learn gratitude when things are difficult because you accept and appreciate the remaining gifts. All my life of fighting and Dios knocked me out. But do you see me throwing in the towel?”

“Yeah, but look at Papi. He didn’t give up either, but he’s no longer here with us. He died trying to take care of us.”

“Mijo, your father loved his work. He enjoyed what he did for us. He didn’t die from that. Papi died of a broken heart.”

“Damn. Ma, were you ever upset with Papi about his decision? You know, to get into the Susa? Do you think he made the right decision?”

“Your father made a decision to try to help our family. But in his risk, there was no reward.” “Mami, have you ever thought of giving up?”

“Nope, because I have you and my Estrella. And I am grateful to God that he blessed me with you two. Mijo, I love my life and know we will be okay.”

Mason smiled and kissed his mother on her forehead.

“You’re right, Mami. I’m going to bed to get some rest before Estrella wakes up. Do you need anything right now?”

“No, Mason, your face was just what I needed.”

Mason smiled and touched his mother’s hand. He walked to his bedroom and got into his small, full-size bed. He stared at the ceiling and whispered to himself.

“Papi didn’t give me a manual for any of this.”

Mason sat up and looked out the window. He noticed the sun rising over the roof of the projects that housed so many potential customers. It was a pandemic, but people still wanted to get high.

Late last year, Mason worked a late night shift at the diner. It was Friday night, and many of the local celebrities and drug dealers ate their late-night meals after a night of partying. One customer was loud, abrasive, and highly flashy. He ordered an abundant amount of food,

overwhelming Mason and the kitchen. Mason was aggravated and annoyed. He asked his line cook a question.

“Who is this asshole that’s ordering all of this food?” Juan, the line cook, chuckled and plated an order of food. “That’s my other boss,” he said quietly.

“Your other boss? What’s that about?”

Juan informed Mason that he was hustling small amounts of cocaine at the neighboring Mexican restaurants and nightclubs. Juan made a few dollars and asked Mason if he wanted to partner up. Mason wasn’t interested. Juan told him to call him if he had ever changed his mind.

And now, on this early Saturday morning, Mason sat at the edge of his bed, juggling his small cell phone. He scrolled the screen and suddenly heard his door opening slowly. Mason looked up at Estrella, who was peeking behind his bedroom door.

Estrella was Mason’s pride and joy. Now twelve years old, he always championed his sister’s confidence. He often told her that the world was hers, that she could achieve better than the four walls that housed her burgeoning talent and intelligence.

“Hey,” said Mason, whispering. “What are you doing up?” “I heard you and Mami talking,” said Estrella.

“When I get home, me and Mami talk all the time, and you don’t wake up,” said Mason, smiling. “Why are you being so nosey?”

“I wasn’t being nosey. I was already awake.”

“You were up at 6 in the morning on a Saturday? That’s crazy. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” said Estrella, walking toward Mason’s window. “You’ve been so MIA this week. I was worried about you. You must work, but it’s better when you’re here. It’s just nicer. You help me with my homework, you care for Mami, and we watch TV together.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m just working these hours to make sure you have a nice dress and money for the salon—“

“Mase,” she interrupted. “You don’t have to worry so much about that. I’ll be happy with whatever we can get.”

“You’re my sister. You deserve the best.”

“The best for me is for my big brother to be home with us. And me and Mami deserve that more than any money.”

“Estrella, you’re right. Money isn’t everything. But I want us to have it all again. I want us to have the house, with the backyard and the trees. You know, like we had in Bayamon. I want you to experience that life, Estrella. And I can’t give you that.”

“We don’t need a big house to be happy. All we need is you.” He put his arm around Estrella’s shoulder.

“You don’t know how much you mean to me, sis. I don’t know where I’d be now if it weren’t for you.”

“I know, I know. Hey, are you working today?”

“I doubt it. I was going to tell you that I lost my job.” “Oh, no.”

Estrella’s face turned red, and she looked down at her feet.

“Don’t worry,” Mason said. “You’ll have your dress and your hair appointment.” “It’s not just that,” she said.

“And I already have the money for this month’s rent in the stash. You have nothing to worry about, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “Even if I get work today, I’ll get home before 9 o’clock. We can have a Movie Night with donuts and popcorn. All three of us. What do you say?”

“I like that!”

“Great,” he said. “I brought home some food. I got your favorite, the chicken salad triple-decker sandwich with onion rings.”

“Mase, you’re the best. Thank you.”

“Before I go to bed, can we do our lullaby?” “Really? We haven’t done the lullaby in a long time.” “I don’t care,” he laughed.

“Okay, okay. Let’s do it.”

Mason took his sister’s hands and rocked them from side to side.

“Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might have this wish I swish tonight.”

“Hold on, Mase,” she said. “Did you say swish?” “Swish? Nah, you’re bugging out. I did not say swish.” “You said swish,” she laughed. “You need to go to bed.”

“Alright, alright, you got me. But what did you wish for?”

“Hmm, I wish to see my brother for movie night. How about that?” “Sounds good. But it’s time for bed. I’ll see you later.”

The siblings embraced, and Estrella left the room. Mason got under his sheets and closed his eyes for only the second time in the last 16 hours.

Ten minutes later, his cell phone alerted a new incoming message from Jose. He wrote that the diner on Castle Hill was looking for a crew of busboys and a line cook, as their dining room was about to re-open in two days. They were having an open call at 11 a.m.

“Do you want to go,” Jose wrote.

Mason stared at his small cell phone for five minutes, wondering if he should continue to serve eating customers or those who wanted to get high. He got out of his bed and looked out the window as the streets of the Bronx were covered with white, heavy snow.

“El que no arriesga, no gana,” he remembered Papi saying.

Mason wanted nothing more than to jump into the snow. It may be time. “El que no arriesga, no gana,” he thought.

He reached for his cell phone and began to type.

“Jose, I’ll be there at 10:45. Get me a cup of coffee and a buttered roll.”

Written by Ricardo Santos

IG: PiesNTheSky | Twitter: @AudemarsDaKing | FB: Santos Cinemas