Another installment of Franky Benítez. For a full list of chapters, click here: Table of Contents
Franky had never seen so much dead pork dangling around in his life. Don Octavio Benítez had always imported two crates of freshly cured sea-salty serrano ham from The Palace of the Ham in Madrid for the family’s annual New Year’s Eve party, but Franky had never actually seen or tasted these fatty, crimson treasures. This would be his first time.
While Franky headed towards the hams and the bar near the Benítez family pool in Diamante to get his father another Cutty Sark and ice, a crowd of neighbors, friends, and associates of Don Octavio danced to Ruben Blades and Willie Colon records that Franky’s cousin Ismael played from his new two turntables and speakers.
Life will give you surprises, surprises will give you life, yes, sir.
The music blaring, Franky waited for the bartender to pour the drink by taking the knife tied to one of the dangling hams. He cut a slippery chunk and chomped into it. Right then, Franky Benitez fell in love with Spain.
This was Franky’s first New Year’s Eve party at his grandparents’ home. Turning ten years old earlier over the summer had earned him the privilege to stay awake until 4 am, revel with his older cousins, and deliver Cutty Sarks on ice for his father, Fracisco Antonio. Franky had begged his mother Linda since last summer to let him get on a plane by himself and fly to down to Puerto Rico for New Year’s. Linda relented, since the last thing she wanted from Franky was more resistance from a smart-ass preteen who would dangle her divorce from Francisco Antonio like one of the hams at Don Octavio’s party. And since she was seriously dating again (an NYPD homicide detective she met on her nights shifts at the ER), a happy Franky could make her own situation more promising. So off she sent Franky to JFK via a car service, while her daugther Veronica, now five, stayed with her and a broken radiator in her frigid Bronx apartment.
With the sea salt and ham fat still wedged in his mouth, Franky headed back to his father, who was dancing with Azucena Fabrizzi del Santos, a former Ms. Ponce who had just returned from a sabbatical in Barcelona to spend the holidays with her family on the island. Azucena was still in college, almost ten years younger than Francisco Antonio. They had met two nights before at Leonardo’s discotheque on Ashford Avenue in Condado. Azucena was with two of her girlfriends, and she wore an ivory white dress with high black heels, her straight dark hair reached the top of her slender waist, her blue eyes were the color of the Caribbean. Francisco Antonio saw her saunter into the disco, sent a bottle of champagne to her table, and was mounting her in the back of his car three hours later.
Franky watched his father and his new friend gyrate around the dance floor. Sweat dripped from Francisco Antonio’s silk shirt, his whoops of joy timed to each note from Willie Colon’s magical trumpet. Azucena clung to het partner’s waist, her hips pressed and locked onto Francisco Antonio’s trousers. There was no way that Francisco Antonio would be worried about getting another drink from his son right now, so Franky held on to the Cutty Sark and walked over to Ismael’s DJ table.
Ismael, one year older than Franky, had a set of headphones wrapped around his afro, as he pulled Michael Jackson’s Off the Wall from the record sleeve and lined up a needle to the 12″ remix of “Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough.'” The Blades/Colon song was still spinning on the other turntable, and Ismael was timing the beats between the two songs so that Jackson’s voice would hit the rhythm at the exact transition point.
“It’s disco time!” Ismael shouted into his microphone. “Happy 1979, everyone! We are playing music all night!”
Franky smiled at his older cousin. Ismael had picked up his DJ hobby earlier in the year, when he heard Donna Summer singing on the island’s new disco radio station. His parents gave him the DJ equipment for his eleventh birthday, and Franky, who spent his summers in Puerto Rico, remembered when the cousins went that very same day to the local DiscoMania store to buy LPs of Kool and the Gang, Chic, and the Sugar Hill Gang. (Franky had suggested “Rapper’s Delight” to Ismael, having heard the song for the first time walking down Jerome Avenue in The Bronx.) Since that time, Ismael had bought close to two hundred records, and had asked his grandfather for permission to play the music at the party. Don Octavio, always encouraging his grandchildren’s talents, agreed without hesitation.
“Franky? What do you think?” Ismael turned to his younger cousin. No one who didn’t know they were cousins would think Franky and Ismael were related. Franky had his grandmother Luisa’s lighter Spanish skin and his mother’s brownish-blonde hair while Ismael, whose mother married the great-great-grandson of a former slave, had Don Octavio’s North African moorish features.
“It’s cool, Izzy.” Franky said as he stopped watching his father dance with Azucena and turned his attention to his cousin.
“Sugar Hill Gang is coming up next,” Ismael said. “I said a-hip-hop-a-hibby-to-the-hibbity-hip-hop…”
“Rock it, you don’t stop,” Franky chimed in, sloshing around a bit of the Cutty Sark onto his arms.
“Now what you hear is not a test,” they rapped together.
Franky put his arm around his cousin and smiled. And making sure no one saw him, he took a sip from the Cutty Sark. He then gave a sip to Ismael.
The whiskey didn’t burn, as he had expected, it didn’t taste like paint or poison. It tasted like warm honey. Maybe it was the sea salt of the ham, the drum machine pumping through the woofers of the speakers, or maybe it was because Franky just wanted to just ignore what was right in front of his face: his father was with another woman.
No one really knew why Franky drank the rest of the Cutty Sark with his cousin, while the Sugar Hill Gang bragged about their macho prowess. The truth is that this wasn’t the Bronx, this was Puerto Rico, and the sight of a ten-year-old boy drinking whiskey on the rocks and dancing around the house like a frenzied jitterbug didn’t seem so strange. Yet every family member noted that they had never seen Franky dance, and the pride filled the dance floor for the little sad boy they had lost from the island three years earlier. “Long live Franky! Long live Franky!” Ismael shouted from his microphone. Within minutes, Franky was dancing between Francisco Antonio and Azucena, leaping and hugging each of them.
Yes, Franky thought, The Bronx is not Puerto Rico. That borough so distant from the pulse of Manhattan had kept him shy, reserved, resentful, and withdrawn. At his first New Year’s Eve party back home on this island of enchantment, Puerto Rico had released him, set him free. He was unshackled forever. This party, this home, this family that danced until 6 am and then shared the first Benítez breakfast of 1979 in crumpled party clothes was where Franky belonged.
Life will give you surprises, surprises will give you life, yes, sir.
Or so he thought.
Franky Benítez 
Gosh, #fridayflash had tuned me to expect this to be a cannibal butcher outlet. I guess that speaks to the themes frequenting our community. A little relieving that this chapter amounted to freedom, rather than freeing up his tender loins.
Ha! Yeah, no chopping up of daddy here.
Another fantastic episode Julio! I think I’ve finally learned not to read of Franky’s adventures without first having eaten. 🙂
Very cool, thanks so much, next one might not have food.
Another great insight into Franky’s life.
Only one thing…Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’ wasn’t on Off the Wall (which was indeed released in 1979). It was on Thriller (1983). Not a huge deal, but I was pretty sure I remembered being older when that came out and it made me stop reading long enough to fact check.
You are right! Thanks for that. It’s Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough! I always confuse those two!
BTW, you are killer at description. As I mentioned on my post, it’s a skill set I’m still struggling with and you seem to do it so effortlessly it amazes me 🙂
Thanks for that. This what helps me when I try to describe things, I never describe with my just eyes, but focus on the other senses. That seems to free me up abit. I also think you can stretch yourself into description and push it to the extreme, you can always bring it back.
Glad to see this one, Julio. I’ve been looking forward to more of Franky’s back story. Such a complex (and real) family and community, colorful and exciting and dreadful and painful all at once. This was particular revealing as I see more of Franky’s relationship (if you can call it that) with his father.
Strong story telling as always. Thanks for sharing it.
Mike, thanks so much with that. Happy 2011!
So much to say, Julio.
First off, you always leave me craving…the ham, the Cutty Sark, the frenzied dance party.
Cutty Sark was the first blended scotch (and first whiskey) I ever tasted (just a kid as well). Still a favorite for a drinkable, inexpensive blend. Ha Ha.
Second, how is it that your writing in this series is ALWAYS so alive and full of powerful, nostalgic magic? Seriously, I get a little lost every time.
Third
“this was Puerto Rico, and the sight of a ten-year-old boy drinking whiskey on the rocks and dancing around the house like a frenzied jitterbug didn’t seem so strange.”
This is a great line, my friend. It made me grin from ear to ear.
Thanks again for a great read.
David, love the fact that you get the Cutty Sark reference. I am trying to create a magical world since I am huge fan of Latin American magical realism movement, so that means a lot. Peace.
I enjoy the rich textures of life, almost as if an exciting current of discovery carries Franky along. And yet Franky is very focused on what is going on underneath, trying to make sense of it, trying to make his presence known. Great story!
Jason, thanks so much. That is the feeling I wanted to convey.
“Right then, Franky Benitez fell in love with Spain.”
Boy do I understand that (I lived in Spain for a year – long time ago).
Great descriptions in this and I could feel (in addition to hear and see) the party as it went on.
I’m wondering about this: “…his grandmother Luisa’s lighter Spanish skin and his mother’s brownish, ”
Did you mean “brownish hair” or something else?
Excellent excerpt. Now I want to party! 🙂
Thanks, Kevin, for the comments. yeah, it’s supposed to say “brownish-blonde hair” I lost that when transferring over the blog. Spain rocks.
I can put off the weight-loss resolution just a bit longer. I’m going refrigerator grazing….
Go for the ham!
Another rich and vibrant story from Franky’s life. Feel so sad for little Franky. Mom and Dad seem to be moving on, but he’s having trouble adjusting to their divorce it seems. This a heart-wrenching and accurate depiction on a child trying to handle their parent’s split. Great job! 🙂
Thanks, Maria, as I write my first blog comment of 2011. Am trying to work many layers of FBenitez into an overall work, but, yes, his early childhood memories wound him deeply.
This is a lush reading experience. Very enjoyable. Very vivid. Very nicely done.
Happy New Year.
~jon
Thanks, Jon. Lush is a good word. I will take it. Happy 2011.
As others have noted above, your description of the sensuality of the flavors is perfectly executed. Makes me want to go pour a tumbler of Cutty Sark.
That would be killer. Thanks, Tony!
What defines and make destination for the life of a child might be found in this lovely told insert in life of little Franky.Narrated in the form of a movie scenario,makes reading to be more like watching tapes to unroll with colorful scenes around little boy;temper,loud music,dance, drinks,all little vices and big for his age,will follow him later in life as well as the destiny of his parents,early separated and soon with new partners in life.
I wish Franky to find lost security,peace and happiness with a girl at the time when he would become mature.It seems like he went out of a Fairy Tale and needs to take a long way before reach true happiness.I really don’t know people and their mentality there, being i live far away from the place where the plot is situated.
I really love your writing,there is something so seducing in all,and it comes from the writer of course.There is also magic i feel,something like mysterious Bewitching…no, i have no doubt it is true bewitching ,like witches and wizards,rather there is some opium to be scattered around….
Some years important in my life matches to the writer’s,maybe i have been around all the time..
So, i’m writing on this novel with you..
Forgot to say some terms are unknown to me..as Cutty Sark..and more.but i’ll learn it later
Cutty Sark is a cheap scotch. Thanks for the comment!
I loved the flavor of this piece, Julio. Franky goes through quite a change here and it’s cool to be a fly on the wall watching it all unfold. You’re descriptions are great, as usual, but you use a lot of very long sentences here, especially in the beginning. It’s always good to see a mix especially in shorter pieces. Overall, it’s another great slice of Franky’s life.
Thanks, Danielle, for the comment and the feedback. I am still in drafting mode with all these pieces so I appreciate the comment. Awesome.
Ok. I am liking Franky more and more and me thinks he was born to hold his liquor! LOL! This may be the best yet! Reveals the child and the pain he suffered from a broken family. You drew me in with this one and I could see Franky dancing after downing the cutty! Good job, Julio!
Awesome, thanks for that. Means a lot.
I haven’t read all the Franky stories yet, and so far, this is my favorite. Very rich and full of life. Family bonding and tradition say a great deal about a person’s history, and Franky comes alive here. On it’s own, this is an enjoyable story.
Thanks, David, for that comment. Much appreciated.
Enjoyed the use of the phrase “Life will give you surprises, surprises will give you life” / “La vida te da sorpresas; sorpresas te da la vida” and how it played again with the ending.
Loved that you got the song reference!
Excellent story! It’s interesting to see how Frankie is growing up. Quite a difference between a ten year old at a New Year’s Eve party in Puerto Rico than in the US.
Thanks, Eric! That is one of the themes I am exploring with the character, the two worlds and how cultures are different.
This episode brought back so many memories like Cutty Sark – I haven’t heard that brand mentioned in ions; and the music of Michael Jackson “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough, had me dancing in my seat with the memory of it as I read.
Your descriptions always carry me back to my childhood days and my friends, many of whom where Latino. I learned to love the food and the dance.
Thanks for another great episode 🙂
Very cool, my loyal reader.
I’m hooked! What’s going to happen next to Franky? Your writing is so descriptive and the inclusion of music clips and photographs creates a rich texture.
Oh, hello! Thanks for reading!