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über gay. Julio would dress in drag every Halloween, usually as a stewardess or a cruise director. His family had owned Cruz Travel Agency for years and when his father died, Julio took it over. The fellas didn’t bother Julio, because they grew up with him and he kept to his place. They also knew he had a registered gun on the premises. Having Brick around also helped.
    Brick was strong, stern, and puro hombre with an old soul that could be seen in his dark eyes. If beauty was a mark of leadership, Brick was destined to rule the Bronx. He only stood at 5’ 9” and weighed in at a slim buck fifty. But size mattered in other places. First, were his hands, which he now used to do odd construction jobs and other forms of physical labor. He also had a big heart and thought of others in addition to thinking of himself. And word on the street was that he was a condom stuffer, a gift he shared with any woman he chose.
    Chulito remembered when Julio used Brick in a promotional campaign to drum up the travel agency’s business. The ad was a simple poster of Brick shirtless with a seductive stare in his eyes and the tag line, “Come away with me.” Every store owner in the neighborhood put one up, and Brick became a local celebrity. In addition to being displayed all over Hunts Point, the fellas found out that the poster was also hanging in every gay bar in the city and in ads in gay magazines. Brick’s stock rose one thousand percent with the women, but the guys gave him lots of shit, asking him if he was turning because the ad looked gay. Brick loved the attention and ignored the guys.
    He got about three other, high-paying modeling gigs off of that. Julio managed his budding career, and the fellas teased Brick non-stop, calling him a homo-thug. Eventually, Brick stopped accepting offers for gay campaigns, but his short-lived venture with Julio cemented their friendship. When some rough necks from the other side of the Bruckner Expressway gave Julio some trouble, Brick intervened.
    Brick was his nickname, because his birth name, Alejandro, was too old and formal for the twenty-four-year-old former street gangsta. Alejandro was a name he would have to grow into, if ever. Brick worked well with the shorties and it commanded respect from the brothers.
    Lost in thoughts, Chulito realized that Brick had almost reached the corner when Looney Tunes waved his hands in front Chulito’s face. “Yo! Wake up, bro. Your posse is gonna leave you behind.” Chulito looked away and saw Kamikaze beckoning him over. “Later, Tunes.” Then he looked back as Tunes dashed toward Brick.
    “Yo, Brick!” Looney Tunes called out, stopping him in front of the pawn shop three doors down from the travel agency.
    “‘Sup Tunes?”
    “Those suckas won’t let me go with them, so I’m gonna hang out with my girl.” Looney Tunes was feeling the new girl who worked in the pawn shop. Whenever he visited her, she’d send him back and forth getting her coffee or something from the doughnut shop.
    “Your girl? Right.” Brick smiled and kept walking down the block toward Chulito and the fellas.
    “Yo, what you mean ‘Right?’”
    “Forget it, man, you da boss.”
    “That’s right and don’t you—” Looney Tunes was interrupted by Crystal’s voice. “Bye, Tunes!”
    “Hey, mama, don’t you look beautiful today. Is it your birthday?”
    “No, Grandma’s coming.”
    “Happy birthday, mamita!” he yelled and disappeared into the pawn shop.
    “Yo, Brick! You coming?” Papo yelled. Brick waved and pointed up to Crystal.
    But everyone knew Brick stayed away from Kamikaze and from doing things with “the pack.” He was a bit of a lone wolf, played on the low with his share of women and he had a Jesus tattoo on his back. There were several stories about that tattoo, but no one seemed to know the real reason he had it done. With Crystal on his shoulders and Jesus on his back, Brick checked out the cars as they filled with the guys and took