Floods
Moon closer to Earth
Carlos all right
Bri and Julie all right
School on Monday
There didn't seem much point writing down what he'd heard about Europe or Massachusetts. People there could make their own lists.
He bit on his pen and thought. Then he wrote: Food in the apartment.
Of course that was assuming Julie had packed things besides mushrooms and candy bars.
But Mami had Wednesdays off, and most likely she'd gone to the supermarket to buy groceries. Alex made a mental note to check the kitchen cabinets, but he doubted there was anything to worry about when it came to food.
He looked at the lists. Under WHAT I DON'T KNOW he wrote: How long it will take for things to get back to normal.
Apparently no one knew that. But just because no one knew didn't mean things wouldn't get back to normal. He might have had the bad luck to catch the only pessimistic scientist on TV.
And, he reminded himself, New York always survived. It had to. The United States, the whole world, couldn't manage without it. It might take a while, and there might be a lot of politicking involved, but eventually New York bounced back from any misfortune. He lived in the greatest city in the world, and what made it great was its people. He was a Puerto Rican New Yorker, strong by birth and by upbringing.
Puerto Rico. Bri had heard from Papi. He lifted the pen to write Papi all right in Puerto Rico under the WHAT I KNOW list until he realized he didn't really know that at all.
What exactly had Briana said? She'd gotten a phone call, there was a lot of static, she thought she heard a man say, "Puerto Rico," and she was certain it was Papi.
Papi's family came from Milagro del Mar, a small town midway between San Juan and Fajardo, on the northern coast of Puerto Rico. When Nana died on Sunday, Alex had been sad, but he really didn't know her all that well. Then again, Mami's mother had died before he'd been born and Mami had no contact with her father, so Nana was the last of his grandparents. But that wasn't reason enough for him to go to Nana's funeral. Mami couldn't leave her brand-new job, and Carlos was too far away. So Papi had gone to Puerto Rico on his own, meeting up there with his two brothers and their families in that little town on the coastline.
It might not have been Papi who called. It might have been one of his brothers. Or it might have been a wrong number, someone asking for "Peter or Ricky," and Bri just assumed the man had said Puerto Rico.
Alex told himself to calm down. Maybe it had been Papi who'd called and maybe it hadn't. It didn't matter. There was no reason to assume the worst, but it was safe to say Papi wouldn't make it home on Saturday. Even if everything miraculously snapped back to place, there'd be long delays, the same as when it snowed and flights got backed up. If New York didn't have electricity or working phones, neither would San Juan.
The image of a twenty-foot tidal wave flashed through his mind. What defense would Milagro del Mar have against that? Could anyone survive?
He shook his head. It was as dangerous to think about that as to think of tunnels flooding and people drowning in the subways. Until he heard differently, he was going to assume Papi was safe in Puerto Rico and Mami was safe in Queens. He just wouldn't put anything about them on his list.
Alex stared at the list. He'd written nothing under WHAT I THINK. The truth was he didn't want to think. He wanted to wake up to hear Papi cursing him out and Mami defending him and Bri and Julie fighting over who hogged the bathroom worse. He wanted the moon back where it belonged and pessimistic scientists to crawl under rocks. He wanted a full scholarship to Georgetown and summer internships with United States senators. He wanted to be the first president of the United States of Puerto Rican descent.
More than anything, he wanted to know his parents were safe. He couldn't make himself think "alive and safe." They had to be alive. They were just gone, that's all. Papi was gone for Nana's funeral, and Mami was gone because the hospital needed her. Just gone for the time being, the same as Carlos. Both of them worried about Alex and the girls. Both of them trying to get home.
If the subways were out, Mami would have to get back to Manhattan by bus. With traffic what it was, that could take hours. She wouldn't like seeing all those bags of food scattered around, though. Alex decided to ask Bri and Julie to put the food away. They knew where things went in the kitchen better than he did.
It would be harder for Papi to get back, but not impossible. Planes would start flying again eventually. Papi could get a bus from the airport to Port Authority and walk the couple of miles uptown if he had to.
Alex looked at his watch and saw if he dressed quickly he had time to make the 8:15 Mass at St. Margaret's. He thought about waking up Bri and Julie and telling them to go with him, but decided it wouldn't be worth the chaos. They'd all go on Sunday, maybe Mami, too, and they could pray for Papi's safe return. But this morning he would go by himself.
He left a note for his sisters, even though they'd probably still be asleep when he got back, and walked to Columbus Avenue, praying for safety as he crossed Broadway, then up the two blocks to the church. The sun was shining brightly, but even so the moon was clearly visible, the way it sometimes was in daylight. Only it was too big. Much too big.
Alex was relieved to find the church open and surprised at the number of people there. More men than he would have assumed would be there, and not all of them old. Many people had fear in their eyes, and many others were weeping. He was glad he'd left his sisters at home.
He expected the Mass to begin as it always did, but instead Father Franco said he had some announcements to make. Alex could see that he was reading from a sheet of paper. That reassured him. As long as lists were being made, there was order in the world.
"The mayor's office and the archdiocese's office are in constant communication," Father Franco began. "Whenever the archdiocese learns something, it will inform the parish priests so that we can inform our congregants." He looked up for a moment and then smiled. "A whole new reason to go to Mass on weekdays," he said.
There was a ripple of nervous laughter.
"Very well," Father Franco said. "We've been told the subways are not yet back in service and bus service is severely restricted, so unless your work is essential to the survival of the community, you're requested to stay within walking distance of your home. No driving except for emergencies. There is a city-wide curfew from eight PM to six AM." He looked up again. "These rules may seem draconian," he said, "but as I'm sure you understand, these are very difficult times. Now I know you've been wondering about electricity. They're hoping to have most of Manhattan back on line by Monday."
"No electricity all weekend?" a man called out from the back.
"All the municipal services are doing what they can under tremendously difficult circumstances," Father Franco said. "The outages are nationwide."
"What about the phones?" a woman asked.
Father Franco consulted his list. "There's no time frame for return of phone service," he said. "Again, these are national problems. Most of the communication satellites have crashed. Let's see, what else. Airports remain closed until further notice. No decision has been made about when the public and parochial schools will reopen." He looked up again. "We'll use our bulletin board to post any information we receive from the archdiocese, so be sure to check that daily. All the churches are running short staffed. I'm sure you can understand why. But the archdiocese has declared that all its churches will be open from six AM to eight PM. There may not be a priest available, but Christ, our savior, will hear your prayers."
Alex had thought the ritual of the Mass, which he knew so well, would provide him with comfort, but his mind was reeling from all Father Franco had said. It wasn't so much that he was taken by surprise. He knew about the phones, the electricity, the subways. But he hadn't really known that everyone else knew. Somehow it had felt like the problems belonged to West Eighty-eighth Street. But it wasn't just Papi stuck in Mil
agro del Mar; people all over the world were affected by the airports being closed. And Mami wasn't the only person stuck at her job with no way of reassuring her family that she was all right.
Alex prayed to Christ for the wisdom to see what would be required of him and for the strength to do it. He prayed for the souls of those who were dead, and for the safe return of those who were gone. He thanked God for the Church, without which he would be lost.
He got home to find his sisters up and prowling around the apartment.
"You're back!" Bri cried as though he'd been gone for weeks, not hours. "Where were you?"
"At St. Margaret's," he said. "I left a note. Didn't you see it?"
"Yeah," Bri admitted. "We were worried you might not come right back."
"Well, I did," Alex said. "And I'm hungry. Have you had breakfast yet?"
"No," Bri said. "We didn't feel like eating until we knew you were okay."
"I'm fine," Alex said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "Why don't you make us breakfast, Bri. We'll all be happier after we've eaten."
"What do we have to be happy about?" Julie asked. "We don't know where Mami or Papi are, or what's happening, or when things are going to be normal again."
"Well, you could be happy you're not in school flunking your English test," Alex said. "You could be happy because we have food in the house and we have each other. You could be happy because the sun is shining and because you got to sleep late. There are a lot of things you could be happy about if you wanted."
"Do you want to smell the milk?" Bri asked from the kitchen. "I think it's okay."
Alex went into the kitchen and took a sniff. "It's okay," he said. "Let's have cereal and milk while we can."
"What does that mean?" Julie asked. "When won't we be able to have cereal and milk?"
"Father Franco said they weren't sure when we'd be getting electricity back," Alex said. "That's all. Maybe by Monday. No point buying milk before then."
Bri put wheat flakes into three bowls and then poured some milk over hers. She took a bite and smiled. "It's okay," she said. She sliced a banana and distributed the pieces.
"What else did Father Franco say?" Julie asked.
"He said the airports are closed and phones are going to be out for a while," Alex said. "Which is why we haven't heard from Mami. I tried calling the hospital this morning, but the phone was dead. We were lucky Papi and Carlos got through to us yesterday. And they don't know when schools will reopen."
"That should make you happy," Bri said to Julie.
"I miss school," Julie said. "I'm bored. At least at school I do stuff and I hang out with my friends."
"There's stuff for you to do here," Alex said. "For both of you. After breakfast, why don't you put away all the food we got from Uncle Jimmy?"
"There may not be room for it in the cupboards," Bri said.
"See if you can find room," Alex said. "You know how Papi and Mami feel about the apartment being a mess. That reminds me. Julie, did you think to take batteries?"
Julie shook her head. "Did you?" she asked.
"I wouldn't be asking if I had," Alex said.
"We're okay without batteries," Bri said. "The flashlights are working."
"I wanted them for the radio," Alex said. "I guess it'll have to wait."
"What are you going to do?" Julie asked.
"I have things to check," Alex said. "You do your job and I'll do mine."
"Yes, master," Julie said.
Alex left his sisters and went into his parents' bedroom. If Mami walked in while he was going through their things, she'd kill him. But Alex figured he'd better see if there was any cash in the house. He had his tip money from Wednesday night, more than usual, thanks to 12B, but that wasn't very much.
He started with the drawers of his parents' bureau, in case there was an envelope with money under their clothes. Then he opened the drawers of their night table. No money there, either. He fingered Mami's rosary beads, wishing she had them with her.
Alex checked their closet next, rifling through his father's pants pockets. He was rewarded with a handful of coins and two dollar bills.
On his father's night table, Alex found the key to Papi's office, where he kept his supplies. It was unlikely Papi kept any money there, but it needed to be checked out. Papi never let any of the kids into his office unless he was there, and even then only Carlos had ever hung out with him.
As Alex crossed through the living room, he found Bri and Julie hard at work. "Where are you going?" Bri asked him.
"To Papi's office," Alex said.
"Papi won't like that," Julie said.
"He'll understand," Bri said. "Especially when he sees how many cans of mushrooms you got for him, Julie."
Alex grinned at the thought of Papi eating nothing but mushrooms for the next month. He left the apartment and walked the few feet to Papi's office. It wasn't much more than a supply closet, but Papi had a desk, and maybe he kept some cash there.
There was a minifridge in the corner, and out of curiosity, Alex opened it. There were three cans of beer and an untouched six-pack. Well, if Julie drove him to drink, Alex wouldn't have to go very far.
In Papi's desk drawer he found a directory of all the apartments, a deck of cards, and two envelopes. Both envelopes were sealed, but Alex could tell they held keys. One envelope said 11F, the other 14J. 11F felt like it had money in it. Curiosity and desperation overcame fear, and Alex opened the envelope. He found two twenties and a paint chip. Apparently Papi had agreed to paint 11F and was to use the cash to buy the paint. Well, if Papi couldn't make it home for a few days, the odds were neither could 11F or 14J.
Alex put the envelopes in his pants pocket. He debated about the beer, but then decided it was safer in the apartment. Besides, Papi would want a beer the minute he got home, whenever that might be.
Between his tip money, the couple of bucks in Papi's pants, and 11F's forty dollars, Alex figured they had a little more than fifty in cash. With the food in the house they should be okay until Mami got home.
He went back to the apartment, beers in tow. "Papi's really going to kill you," Julie said.
"I'm holding them for him," Alex said. "Count them. Nine cans."
"When do you think Papi'll get home?" Briana asked.
"Late next week probably," Alex replied. "They have to get the airports open first, so it'll take a while."
"Do you think Mami'll be back tonight?" Bri asked.
"Mami may be stuck in Queens," Alex replied. "Father Franco said the subways aren't running."
"It's funny to think she's stuck in Queens and Papi's stuck in Puerto Rico," Bri said. "Like they were both really far away."
"What's funny about it?" Julie asked. "How do we even know they're okay?"
"Our Madre Santisima is looking after them," Bri said. "Isn't that right, Alex."
"Of course she is," Alex said, praying that the Most Holy Mother's arms were big enough to embrace the millions of souls, dead and gone, crying for her mercy.
Saturday, May 21
Alex knew his sisters would expect to go to Mass on Sunday, but he wasn't sure he wanted them to hear what Father Franco might say. It didn't help that the panic inside him was growing stronger and more uncontrollable by the minute. He told himself repeatedly that it had been Papi who'd called, that Bri couldn't be wrong, that it was just a matter of time before Papi made his way back home. But he couldn't shake the image of the tiny seaside town being swept away, Papi screaming as twenty-foot tidal waves carried him to certain death.
And Mami. The longer they went without hearing from her, the more terrified Alex became that they never would. Had she drowned on the subway like thousands of others?
It was only three days, Alex reminded himself, and three days was nothing when the world was in chaos and communication was impossible.
They had plenty of food. They had a home. They had the church. They had each other. They had Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Lorraine. If
it came to it, they had Carlos. They were better off than millions of people. And it wasn't as though they didn't have Papi and Mami. They just didn't know how they were.
It would be all right. It had to be.
Still, before he let his sisters go to Mass, he wanted to know as much as he could about what was going on, at least in their neighborhood. So he decided to take a walk.
"Where are you going?" Bri asked with that tinge of fear he'd come to expect in her voice.
"Just for a walk," Alex said.
"Can we come with you?" Julie asked.
"No," Alex said.
"Why not?" Julie demanded. "I'm bored. There's nothing to do here. Why can't we go on a walk with you?"
Because I'm trying to protect you! Alex wanted to yell, but he knew that would only scare Bri.
"You'll be going to church tomorrow," he said instead. "Have either of you done any homework since Wednesday?"
They shook their heads.
"I expect to see it completely done by the time I get home," Alex said, the way Mami would have. "And I tell you what. If I find anything is open, a store or a coffee shop, we'll go as soon as I get back. All right?"
"You won't be gone long?" Bri asked.
"Not long," Alex said. "I promise. Now start your homework."
"Come on, Julie," Bri said. "I'll help you with your math."
"I don't need any help," Julie grumbled, but she followed her older sister to their bedroom. Alex breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn't blame his sisters for wanting to get out. But they had to be protected.
He knew he needed to check the bulletin board at St. Margaret's, if for no other reason than to see if there was a notice about the schools reopening. But instead of walking east to the church, he went west.
Alex told himself as he walked toward Riverside Drive that the Hudson River would be fine, but even so, when he got to the river, he felt a sense of relief. The river was agitated, but that could have been from the heavy rains on Thursday. New Jersey, across the river, was right where it belonged. If rivers had tides, and Alex had to admit he didn't know if they did, they didn't seem too bad.
The Dead and Gone Page 3
