Monday, September 5
"Julie!" Alex said, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice. "My shirts are filthy. Can't you do a better job with them?" He told himself no one was as clean as they had been, but with school officially starting again the next day, he wanted to look as respectable as possible.
"Why don't you do your own damn laundry," Julie said.
Alex grabbed her arm. "Don't ever talk to me like that again," he said. "Never."
"Or what?" Julie said.
"Or you won't eat," Alex said.
Julie stared at him in horror. "You don't mean that, do you?" she asked. "You'd keep all the food for yourself?"
Alex tried to remember what it felt like not to be hungry. Bri wasn't hungry, he thought. She was fat as a kitten. If he'd let Uncle Jimmy take Julie, maybe she'd be fat as a kitten, too.
"I didn't mean it," he said, releasing Julie from his grasp. "As long as I have food, you'll have food."
"It's hard washing clothes by hand," Julie said. "Maybe I should stay home from school, when the electricity is on. Then I could use the washer and drier."
Alex shook his head. "School is more important," he said. "I'll wash my own clothes. That way if they're not clean enough, I'll have only myself to blame."
"Papi never washed clothes," Julie said.
"Yeah, well, I'm not Papi," Alex said. Papi would never have threatened to starve a child, no matter how dirty his shirts might be.
Tuesday, September 6
Alex was relieved to find that at least some of the guys he'd gone to school with in the spring had returned for fall classes. He did a count at Mass and figured the chapel was about a third full—not bad given that there was no new batch of seventh graders to replace the seniors who'd graduated.
Father Mulrooney welcomed everyone back and said that, once again, attendance at Mass was mandatory. The faculty had increased by two, with a couple of nervous-looking seminarians joining the three elderly priests who'd held the fort during the summertime. Mr. Kim would teach all the science classes, and Mr. Bello all the math classes. There were no more requirements for lunch; if you were at school that day, you would be fed. Alex was relieved. It had grown increasingly more difficult and depressing to check up on the people on his list. He was reluctant to admit it, but physical exertion was getting harder—maybe because he was eating so little or maybe because the air quality was so bad. And although he hated to think about it, the bad air and the lack of food was probably killing off some of the people he'd been checking up on all summer.
He had lunch that day with Kevin, Tony Loretto, and James Flaherty. James had spent the summer in Pennsylvania with his grandparents, and it felt strange to see him back. It was hard to remember that people with money could come and go, and that gone didn't always mean dead.
"What's it like out there?" Alex asked as he devoured in three bites his lunch of red cabbage and baked beans.
"Bad," James replied.
"So's lunch," Kevin said, but Alex noticed he ate everything on his plate as fast as Alex had.
"Bad like how?" Tony asked. "Earthquakes? Floods?"
James shook his head. "It's dead there," he replied. "Here we're still getting food shipments and there's electricity most weekdays. There, nothing. It's a little warmer here, too, if you can believe it. The city traps the bad air and the warm air. Out there, without the skyscrapers, the air stays cleaner but colder. But the crops all died, and a lot of the farmers were talking about how they were going to have to slaughter their animals, since there wouldn't be enough feed for them to get through the winter, even assuming things get better next spring."
"Which they won't," Kevin said.
"I don't think so, either," Tony said. "Not around here, anyway."
"But at least in the country, they don't leave dead bodies lying around everywhere," James said with a shudder. "That's new since I left the city. How do people put up with it, the corpses and the rats?"
"After a while you don't really notice," Tony replied. "You have to be careful about the rats, in case they're rabid, but for the most part they're okay, too. They eat the bodies and leave everyone else alone."
"I'm surprised you came back," Kevin said. "I thought everyone who left would stay gone."
"My father can't get out yet," James said. "He's a cardiologist. I could have stayed with my grandparents, but there wasn't enough food for all of us. So I'm back until they give Dad the okay to go."
"What's going to become of your grandparents; do you know?" Tony asked.
"We're not sure yet," James replied. "The rules keep shifting about who can get in and who can't."
"I thought the evacuation centers were open to everybody," Alex said.
"Are you crazy?" James said. "Dad would never send his parents to an evac center."
"Don't mind Morales," Kevin said. "He lives under a rock."
"Shut up, Kevin," Alex said. "What's wrong with the evacuation centers?"
"What's right with them is more like it," James said. "Half of New York City is crammed into the Binghamton one. The wrong half, at that."
"No one who has a choice goes to an evac center," Tony said. "Not that there aren't a lot of decent people stuck there."
"The decent people don't stand a chance," James said. "Crime, disease, not enough food."
"Sounds like home," Kevin said, but no one laughed.
"How do you know?" Alex demanded. "You ever been to one?"
"My mother has," Tony replied. "A couple of weeks ago for her job. She was there with two armed bodyguards, and she still said she was never so scared in her life. The one in Binghamton was set up to hold thirty thousand people and it's already at a hundred thousand. The National Guard is supposed to police the place, but they're stretched too thin, and if you wander off looking for food, the townspeople shoot to kill. No showers, no toilets, and now people are freezing to death. You're lucky, James, your father hasn't been assigned to work at one. People are dropping like flies because there aren't nearly enough doctors."
"My father has too many powerful patients," James said. "Wherever they go, we'll go. And trust me, Alex, it won't be to any evac center."
Tony nodded. "Dad won't leave Mom," he said. "And they're not sending my brothers and me off without them, so we're not going anytime soon."
"I'd rather be here," Kevin said. "Corpses and all."
"Me too," James said. "New York, the people may be dead, but at least the city's alive. In the country, everything's dead."
Wednesday, September 7
For supper that night, Alex and Julie shared a can of sauerkraut.
"Sister Rita says vegetarians live longer," Julie said. "She says it's a good thing we eat the way we do."
"I don't need any lectures from sainted Sister Rita about how good we have it," Alex said. "I bet she's eating steak every night while we're starving to death."
"She isn't!" Julie cried. "Are we? Starving to death, I mean?"
"No," Alex said. "I'm sorry. I have things on my mind."
"Can I help?" Julie asked.
Alex shook his head. "Just a problem I have to work out on my own," he said.
Julie carried the dishes and forks to the sink. Alex watched—while trying to come up with a way to keep her alive and safe. When he finally acknowledged there was none, he went into his bedroom, and threw his missal against the wall.
Chapter 11
Monday, September 12
Alex could tell as soon as they approached the apartment that something was wrong. The blanket he'd nailed to the inside of the living room window was flapping.
Julie had been right, he thought. Someone broke in. All the food that he'd gotten from Harvey—and he'd pretty much wiped out Harvey's supplies—might be gone. The bottles of booze he'd held in reserve, the blankets and quilts, the two sleeping bags he'd been thrilled to find, the box of cigars, the coffee, the beer, the aspirin and vitamins and sleeping pills and cold medicines and antacids. The electric heater, the he
ating pad, and the electric blanket. The fur coats, the wool coats, the sweaters, and boots. He'd been an idiot to keep things downstairs. If Papi or Uncle Jimmy, or even Carlos, had suggested keeping the stuff in one of the upstairs apartments, he would have agreed. But it had been Julie, so naturally he'd overruled her.
Julie. What was he going to do about her? He couldn't let her go into the apartment, but it was equally unsafe to have her stand outside.
"Something's the matter," he whispered, pointing to the flapping blanket. "Go into the lobby and take the stairs to the third floor. Go as fast as you can, but quietly, and don't slam any doors. I'll get you when it's safe. Now move!"
Julie did as she was told. Alex waited five minutes, to make sure she was safely upstairs, then unlocked the outside door to the basement. If it was only one guy in there, the element of surprise might be enough to chase the burglar away. With shaking hands, he unlocked the door to the apartment, and yelled through the door, "Get out now! I have a gun!"
"Alex? Don't shoot. It's me, Bri!"
"Bri?" Alex shouted. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she said. "I'm home. It's just me."
Alex raced into the apartment and hugged his sister hard—until she began coughing.
"Bri, what's happening?" he asked. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," she said, gasping. "Really I am. Where's Julie? What happened?"
"Oh God, I hid her," Alex said. "Stay here. Don't go away." He laughed. "Wait till she sees you! Hold on. We'll be back in a couple of minutes." Reluctantly he left Briana, then ran up the stairs to the third floor.
"Everything's okay," he told Julie. "Come on down."
"Maybe you should have nailed the blanket better," Julie said as they went back downstairs.
Alex laughed. "Maybe I should have," he agreed. He couldn't remember ever having been so happy. There was food in the house, supplies left to barter, and his sister back. For once when he thanked Christ for his blessings, he would really mean it.
"Julie!"
"Bri? Bri, is that really you?"
Bri began coughing again. "It's nothing," she choked out. "I'm just so happy."
"How about some tea?" Alex asked. "Julie, boil some water for tea."
Julie ran into the kitchen and put the kettle on.
"I can't believe you're here," Alex said, grasping Bri's hand. "What happened? When did you get here?"
"About an hour ago," Bri whispered. "I was so scared. The blankets on the windows and all those things in Mami's room ... Is she back? Is Papi?"
Alex shook his head. "Nothing new from Carlos, either," he said.
Julie popped back into the living room. "It's the cold, isn't it," she said. "Your crops froze, too."
Bri nodded.
"So they sent you home?" Alex asked. "They don't want to feed you anymore, so they dumped you?"
"No, Alex, it wasn't like that," Bri said. "The sisters were eating less so we'd have enough. They were wonderful." She began coughing again. "My bag." She gasped.
Alex grabbed her bag and handed it to her. She dug through it and pulled out something. Alex recognized it as an inhaler. He'd gone to school with kids who had asthma. But Bri wasn't asthmatic.
Bri inhaled deeply and stopped coughing. "Some of us got sick," she said. "Me and two other girls. Sister Anne got us to a doctor, and he said we have adult-onset asthma. It's the same as regular asthma, but it starts later. The doctor said we'd be fine except for the air. It's so ashy now, and we were outside all day and it was too much. The sisters couldn't keep any girls who were sick, so they drove us back to New York. Two other girls, too, whose parents wanted them back. They tried to call you, but the phone isn't working."
Alex nodded. "This asthma," he said. "Will it go away now that you're not working outdoors?"
"I don't think so," Bri said. "Not until the air clears up. The doctor said I shouldn't go outside any more than I have to. He said there used to be medicine to prevent asthma attacks, but that's all gone now. He gave us inhalers, but he said we should try to avoid attacks by staying indoors and not exerting ourselves and not getting excited. Only I got so excited seeing you." She smiled. "It was worth it," she said. "Oh, Alex, Julie, I'm so happy to be home!"
Bri would need food, Alex thought, and medications. She wouldn't be able to walk to school, so she couldn't get lunch there. He'd have to take Julie with him on the food line and hope that Kevin kept going. Even with what was in the apartment, and three bags of food rather than two, he'd have to give up supper most nights of the week if Bri and Julie were both to eat twice a day.
His sister wasn't fat as a kitten, he saw. She was pale and as thin as she was when she'd left last spring. Having her gone all summer had worked out well for him and Julie, but perhaps not so well for Bri herself.
But then Bri smiled. "I knew you'd keep your vow," she said. "I knew you'd be here when I got back. I'm never leaving again. Never."
Alex looked at his sister. Things will work out, he thought. The Blessed Virgin returned his sister to him. Through her intercession, they would find the way to survive.
Wednesday, September 14
As Julie and Alex walked home from school, they saw a man leap from a seventh-story window, falling to the sidewalk about twenty feet from them.
Alex grabbed his sister, feeling her thin body shake under her winter coat. "Hurry," he said, pulling her along as he raced to the body. "You get his shoes, and I'll look for his wallet and his watch."
Julie stared in horror at Alex. He pushed her toward the man's feet.
"Alex, I think he's still alive," Julie said. "I think he's still breathing."
"What difference does that make," Alex said. "He'll be dead soon enough. Now take his shoes."
Julie bent over and pulled off the man's shoes. Alex removed the man's watch, then ransacked his pockets, finding nothing.
"Help me with his sweater," he said. "You take the left arm; I'll take the right."
Julie did as she was told, and they pulled off the sweater. Alex took it and the shoes. "No wallet," he told her, "but this stuff should be good for a couple of cans of soup."
"What are you talking about?" Julie cried.
"What do you think I do every morning?" Alex said. "This is how I feed us."
"Does Bri know?" Julie asked.
"No," Alex said. "And you're not going to tell her."
Julie stood absolutely still. "Do you want me to go with you?" she asked. "In the mornings?"
"No," he said. There was no need for this to be on both their consciences.
Friday, September 16
"So much food!" Briana said as Alex unloaded two trash bags onto the kitchen floor. "Three bags this morning, and now all this. Where did it all come from?"
The three bags came from Alex, Julie, and Kevin standing on line for almost five hours in below-freezing weather. Fewer people were waiting on the food line, but fewer people were distributing the food as well. By ten that morning, everyone was coughing, but no one left his place. Kevin took Julie to Holy Angels while Alex took the bags home for Bri to put away. Then he gathered up four bottles of wine found in apartment 11F, one box of cigars from 14J, and a man's coat, watch, and shoes, peeled off a fresh dead man on Alex's walk home. Harvey turned down the watch, saying the market for them had dried up, but he was happy about the wine and cigars, and gave Alex enough food to last a week or more if they were careful. Alex was most excited about the two cans of tuna and one of salmon. The hell with vegetarians living longer.
"Things must be all right if there's so much food," Bri said, putting the groceries away in the cabinets, making them look full and normal again. "Oh, Alex. Powdered eggs! They're almost as good as real eggs."
"Did you have real eggs on the farm?" he asked. The temperature in the apartment was about fifty degrees, which was where he'd set the oil burner thermostat, but Bri made things feel warm and sunny again.
Bri nodded. "Every day at first," she said. "Toward the end, the hens
stopped laying. It got harder to milk the cows, too. I pray for the sisters and the girls who stayed on. I think we have it easier."
"That's what I've heard," Alex said.
Bri turned around to face her brother. "Don't stop believing in miracles," she said. "La madre santisima is watching over us. I know she is because I prayed to her every night that I would come home and find you and Julie here."
Alex thought about all the prayers he had said in the past four months and how few had been granted. But why should God or even the Blessed Virgin listen to his prayers, he asked himself, when a can of tuna fish was more important to him than the suffering of Christ.
Sunday, September 18
Bri's face glowed as they approached St. Margaret's, and Alex knew he'd made the right decision, letting her go to Mass. Even when Bri slipped off her face mask and used her inhaler because she was starting to cough, Alex felt sure he'd done the right thing. It might be safer to keep Bri indoors, but her life had no meaning without the Church.
His mind wandered as it always did nowadays in church. If crops throughout the U.S., throughout the world for that matter, died from lack of sunlight, how long would New York City continue to get food? If Holy Angels or Vincent de Paul closed, where would the food come from to feed Julie and himself ? If Kevin decided he no longer wanted to wait on line on Fridays for food he didn't even eat, would two bags be enough?
And that was the easy stuff. Alex chose not to think about the heating oil running out, or about the Hudson seeping eastward and reaching West End Avenue, or what he was going to do with his sisters when they'd have to leave New York.
Live for the moment, he told himself. Look at Bri. See how happy she is. She's no fool. She knows better than you do how fragile life is. But she rejoices in her faith. Can't you do the same?
The answer was no.
Monday, September 19
That morning Alex had told Julie he'd be late picking her up from school and she was to wait for him. When the school day ended, he went to Father Mulrooney.