He looked down at his little sister. She’d stood outside with him and Kevin for five hours, not complaining, not whining, hardly saying a word. Something bad had happened at school and Alex, in his bad mood, hadn’t given her the chance to tell him in her own way.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and he couldn’t have even explained what he was sorry about. The list would have been too long. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
“I wish I was Bri,” Julie said. “I mean, I wish I was the one who went away and I was the one who’s sick, because I know you like her more than you like me and I’m sorry you’re stuck with me when you’d rather do stuff with her.”
Alex knew7 he was supposed to assure Julie that he liked her every bit as much as he liked Bri, but there was no point. Julie knew better. He’d spent thirteen years making sure she did.
“We’re stuck with each other,” he said. “You wish I was Carlos, after all.”
“Holy Angels is closing,” Julie blurted.
Alex stood absolutely still, closed his eyes, and prayed he hadn’t heard Julie correctly.
“Today was the last day,” she said.
“How long have you known?” he asked, as though that would make a difference.
“They told us Monday,” Julie replied. “I’ve been scared to tell you. I knew you wouldn’t like it.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” Alex said. “If you’d given me some notice, I could have spoken to Sister Rita. Did they tell you where you’d be going now?”
“I’m sorry,” Julie said. “It’s not my fault. Really.”
“Just tell me,” Alex said. He hoped it was someplace where they’d feed her lunch.
“Vincent de Paul,” she whispered.
“Oh God,” Alex said, at the thought of losing his last sanctuary.
“I don’t have to go to school,” Julie said. “Bri doesn’t. I can stay home with her if you want. We can study together. I can skip lunch. It’s okay, really.”
Alex thought back to that last night when he’d been slicing pizza at Joey’s, worrying about the editorship of the paper, dreaming of a full scholarship to Georgetown. To think he was discontented because he was only class vice president. Had he ever been that young, that stupid?
“It’ll be fine,” he said to his sister, because she deserved to hear it. “It’ll be easier. I won’t have to drop you off at Holy Angels and pick you up. And you’ll like it at Vincent de Paul". Will the sisters be coming along, or will you be taking classes with the boys?”
“Some of the sisters will be coming,” Julie said. “There aren’t that many girls left at Holy Angels, so some of the sisters are being sent away. But we’ll have our own classes. You won’t see me, Alex. I promise. We’re not going to eat in the cafeteria. We’ll have lunch in our classroom. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Alex said. “I know how much you like Holy Angels.” He thought about how carefully the secret had been kept. Not even Kevin seemed to know girls were coming to Vincent de Paul.
“It doesn’t matter,” Julie said. “Nothing matters anymore.”
Alex didn’t have the strength to disagree.
Monday, October 17
Before Mass Father Mulrooney gave the boys a stern lecture about how the Holy Angels students were their guests and any contact between them should be brief and civil. The Holy Angels students would use the third floor of the school, while all Vincent de Paul classes would be held on the first and second. Each school would have separate hours for chapel and library, with the Vincent de Paul morning Mass remaining mandatory.
Alex hadn’t gone to school with girls since seventh grade, when he’d begun at Vincent de Paul. Not having girls around helped him focus on what was truly important to him: his grades, his activities, his future. Sure, he would have liked having a girlfriend, and he knew a lot of the boys at Vincent de Paul dated girls from Holy Angels or even from the public high schools. But they had their lives set out for them. They could afford the distraction.
Last spring, he remembered, Chris had asked if he wanted to double-date for the Holy Angels junior prom. Chris’s girlfriend had a friend who’d just broken up with her boyfriend and needed a last-minute replacement.
Alex worked Saturday nights at Joey’s. Rather than explaining that to Chris, he said instead that his father was away in Puerto Rico for a family funeral, and they weren’t sure when he’d be coming back. It was a ridiculous excuse, but Chris accepted it and said how sorry he was.
The prom must have been scheduled for the Saturday Papi didn’t come home. Most likely it had been canceled. All the longing and resentment Alex had felt had been for no reason whatsoever.
Friday, October 28
Alex was on his way to the cafeteria when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Tony.
“I thought you could use this,” Tony said, handing him a small brown paper bag.
“What is it?” Alex asked.
“Cartridges for Bri’s inhaler,” Tony said. “I had a couple of extra ones, so I figured I’d pass them along to you.”
“Thanks,” Alex said.
“No problem,” Tony said, which Alex suspected was also a lie, but was too grateful to question.
Monday, October 31
“Did you give Tony my thank-you note?” Bri asked after Alex and Julie got home from school.
“I sure did,” Alex lied. Tony was nowhere to be seen. Alex had taken a rough count at Mass, and another dozen Vincent de Paul students were gone. Maybe some of them would show up later in the week, but he doubted it. Gone was gone. But he’d decided against telling Bri, since it had seemed so important to her to write Tony a thank-you note. It was better to lie than to upset her.
“Tomorrow’s All Saints’ Day,” he said. “I thought the three of us might go to Mass at St. Margaret’s.”
“Oh, I’d like that,” Bri said. “Thank you, Alex.”
“Could I skip it?” Julie asked. “You could take me to school first and then go to Mass.”
“It’s a holy day of obligation,” Bri said. “We always went to Mass with Mami on All Saints’ Day.”
“I know,” Julie said. “But I want to go to Mass on Wednesday for All Souls’ Day. I want to pray for Mami and Papi’s souls.”
“But they’re not dead,” Bri said.
“You’re crazy,” Julie said. “Isn’t she, Alex? Mami and Papi have been dead since that first day. Everyone knows it. You know it, too, Bri. You just won’t admit it.”
“How can you say that?” Bri cried. “I spoke to Papi. He’s stuck in Puerto Rico. And Mami must be alive because she wasn’t at Yankee Stadium when Alex looked. Isn’t that right, Alex.”
“Just because you don’t want to believe they’re dead doesn’t mean they aren’t,” Julie said. “It’s sinful not to pray for their souls, isn’t it, Alex.”
“What’s sinful is to act like your parents are dead when they’re alive,” Bri said. “Sometimes I think you like it better this way. You get away with more. You should have spent the summer like I did, Julie, and then you’d appreciate home and family.”
“You should spend every day like I do!” Julie shouted. “Stuck with a crazy sister who prays all the time instead of doing any work.”
“I do work,” Bri said. “I do schoolwork when you’re at school.”
“Yeah, right,” Julie said. “I do all the cooking and cleaning.”
“I thought you liked doing the cooking,” Alex said. “Besides, how much work is it? All our food comes out of cans.”
“I wouldn’t mind the cooking if I didn’t have to do the dishes, too,” Julie said. “And the dusting, which you make me do every day, and sweeping and mopping the floor.”
“The place has to be really clean for Bri’s asthma,” Alex said. “And I don’t want her standing in the cold kitchen doing the dishes, either. It’s bad for her.”
“So I do everything!” Julie said. “It’s not fair!”
“Oh, grow up,”
Alex said.
“I hate you!” Julie shouted, storming into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
“I can do the dishes,” Bri said. “Really I can.”
“No,” Alex said. “Julie’ll get over it.”
“What about Mass tomorrow?” Bri asked.
“It’s All Saints’ Day,” Alex said. “Of course we’ll go.” And the day after, he told himself, he and Julie would go for All Souls’ Day to pray for Papi and Mami. And he’d take over the dusting and the mopping.
Chapter 13
Wednesday, November 9
Bri was waiting for them when Alex and Julie got home from school. “Today’s Papi’s birthday,” she said. “I thought we’d do something special to celebrate.”
Alex and Julie exchanged glances. “Like what?” Alex asked.
Bri smiled. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Just something. Maybe go to St. Margaret’s and light a candle for him.”
“Alex and I did that on the way home,” Julie said.
“Did you pray for his safe return?” Bri asked. “I worry a lot that he’s trying to get back to New York by boat. That’s got to be really dangerous with the tides and the tsunamis.”
“I’m sure Papi isn’t doing anything dangerous,” Alex said. “Let’s not worry about him today, okay? That’s not how he’d want us to celebrate his birthday.”
“I checked our supplies at lunchtime,” Bri said. “Do you know we still have a can of clam sauce? And half a box of spaghetti. That would make a wonderful supper.”
“I was saving that for Thanksgiving,” Julie said. Alex glared at her. “You’re right, Bri. Let’s have that for supper tonight. For Papi.”
“St. Margaret’s is going to have a Thanksgiving dinner,” Alex said. “They just put up the notice. We’ll go to that.”
“That would be wonderful,” Bri said. “Remember turkey and stuffing?”
“Pumpkin pie,” Julie said. “Candied sweet potatoes. We’ll probably get rice and beans.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Bri replied. “We have so much to be thankful for. We have this wonderful apartment, and we have food and the church and each other.”
“Yeah,” Julie said. “But I’d still like some pumpkin pie.”
“Remember a couple of years ago when Mami bought Papi all those lottery tickets,” Alex said, because he didn’t want to think about turkey and stuffing and pumpkin pie and all the things they didn’t have to be thankful about.
“One of them won,” Bri said. “Fifty dollars.”
“And he took us all to the movies,” Julie said. “Even Carlos came along.”
“Do you think they’re still making movies?” Bri asked.
“I don’t think so,” Alex said. “Not with all the flooding on the West Coast.”
Julie looked uncomfortable. “I have some lottery tickets,” she said.
“Where did you get lottery tickets?” Alex asked.
“From the bodega,” Julie admitted. “Remember when you and Uncle Jimmy left me there alone? I filled up bags of food for us, but I also tore off some instant tickets and put them in my pocket.”
“Julie,” Bri said. “That’s stealing.”
“I’ve confessed and done penance,” Julie said. “And even if I wanted to, I can’t return the tickets to Uncle Jimmy.”
“Have you looked at them:” Alex asked. “Are any of them winning tickets?”
Julie shook her head. “I was saving them for Christmas,” she said. “But maybe today would be better, because it’s Papi’s birthday and he loved lottery tickets.”
“Could we do them now?” Bri asked. “Christmas seems so far away.”
“Why not,” Alex said. “Julie, get the tickets.”
Julie ran into the bedroom and returned with the tickets.
“How many are there?” Alex asked.
“Twenty-seven,” Julie said.
Alex laughed. “Nine for each of us,” he said. “Okay, here’s a penny for you, Julie, and one for Bri and one for me. Let’s see how rich we are.”
Bri squealed almost immediately. “Five dollars!” she cried.
Alex scraped and scraped but came up with nothing.
Julie gasped and made the sign of the cross. “We’re rich,” she said. “Alex, look at this.”
Alex took the ticket from her. Not believing his eyes, he handed the ticket to Bri for confirmation.
“Ten thousand dollars?” she said.
Alex grabbed it back from her and looked more carefully. “Ten thousand dollars.”
“That’ll get us out of here, won’t it, Alex?” Julie asked. “With ten thousand dollars, we can get tickets out of here to someplace, can’t we?”
Alex checked the ticket over one more time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen money being used, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t. The government still existed and the government owed the owner of that lottery ticket ten thousand dollars. The question was what good was ten thousand dollars.
“Maybe we should tell Kevin,” Julie said.
Alex realized he didn’t want to tell Kevin—any more than he had wanted Kevin to know he was bartering liquor and cigars. Some things you kept to yourself. “Harvey might be able to help us,” he said. “But we shouldn’t get our hopes up.”
“Couldn’t we use the ticket to get food instead?” Bri asked. “Real food. Lots of it. That way we wouldn’t have to leave New York.”
“I want to use it to get out,” Julie said. “It’s my ticket. I’m the one who took it in the first place and it was in my pile and I get to say what we do with it.”
“But what will Mami and Papi think if we’re not here?” Bri asked. “Or Carlos? How will they find us if we leave?”
“It’s been six months!” Julie shouted. “They’re dead. And Carlos might as well be. I’m not going to stick around here and die waiting for them to come back. Stay here if you want, but I’m going!”
Bri began to cough.
“Where’s the inhaler?” Alex asked, looking around the living room for it.
“Bedroom.” Bri gasped.
Alex raced into the bedroom and grabbed the inhaler from Bri’s night table. “You’re supposed to carry this with you all the time!” he shouted, resisting the temptation to fling it at her.
Bri took a deep puff. Her coughing subsided. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Forgot.”
“You can’t forget,” Alex said. “Forgetting can kill you. What if you had an attack and we weren’t here?”
Bri began to cry.
“Happy birthday, Papi,” Julie muttered.
“That does it!” Alex yelled. “Julie, go to your room, right now.”
“Why?” Julie asked. “It isn’t my fault Bri’s crazy.”
“Now,” Alex said, trying to keep his rage under control. “Before I pick you up and throw you in there.”
“You’re too weak to,” Julie said, but she took her winning ticket and left, slamming the bedroom door behind her.
Bri kept crying. They’d run out of tissues months ago, and toilet paper was too precious to waste. Alex went to the kitchen and grabbed one of the last three napkins for Bri to blow her nose with.
“Bri, you have to keep your inhaler with you,” he said. “You can’t just leave it around.”
“I know,” Bri said. “I’m sorry. I was in the bedroom and then I heard you come in and I was so excited, I forgot it. I always have it with me. Really, Alex.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
Bri looked up at him, and Alex could see the tears in her eyes. “We can’t leave,” she said. “This is our home.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “At some point we may have to.”
“But not yet,” Bri said. “Not until Mami and Papi come back.”
“We’ll talk about that later,” Alex said. “I need to talk to Julie now. Stay where you are, okay?”
“Okay,” Bri said.
Alex didn’t bother knoc
king. He found Julie sitting on her end of the bed, staring at the quilt that covered the window of her bedroom.
“I’m using the ticket to get out,” she said. “I don’t care what you and Bri do. It’s my ticket and I hate it here.”
“Julie, it’s not that simple,” Alex said.
“It is,” she said. “People leave all the time. All my friends are gone. Most of the sisters are gone. We’re the only ones stupid enough to still be here.”
“We’re not stupid,” he said.
“Bri is,” Julie said.
“Don’t say that,” Alex snapped. “Her faith is stronger than yours. Maybe you’re the stupid one.”
Julie looked Alex straight in the eye. “Tell me Mami and Papi are still alive,” she said. “Tell me that’s what you really think.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” he said. “It doesn’t even matter what Bri thinks. What matters is Bri can’t walk more than five blocks without having an asthma attack and you’re thirteen years old and you can’t look out for yourself.”
“I could if I had to,” Julie said.
Alex shook his head. “You can’t,” he said. “I can’t go off with you and leave Bri behind. And I can’t stay behind with Bri and let you go off on your own.” He left unsaid the idea of his deserting his sisters while he escaped.
“But maybe with the ticket we could find a way out,” Julie said. “Ten thousand dollars, Alex. That’s so much money. It could get us to a safe place where Bri could get healthy.”
Alex knew Bri would never be healthy again. But he was moved that Julie still had some faith in miracles. “I’ll talk to Harvey,” he said. “I promise.”
“I want to go with you,” Julie said. “It’s my ticket.”
“Okay,” Alex said. “We’ll go to Harvey’s on the way to school tomorrow. Now come on, and start making our supper. Spaghetti and clam sauce. A feast for Papi.”
“All right,” Julie said, reaching out for Alex’s hand. “You won’t leave me? You promise?”
“I promise,” Alex said. “Te amo, hermanita, even if you do drive me crazy.”
Julie got up off the bed. “Do you think there’s anyplace left in the world with pumpkin pie?” she asked.
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