The Dead and the Gone ls-2

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

  Two weeks. They’d made it this long. They could certainly make it for another two weeks.

  Chapter 15

  Thursday, December 1

  He had no idea what time it was when he woke up, but he knew he was cold. He was used to being cold by now, but this was different.

  He fumbled around the end table, searching for the flashlight, and knocked over the half-filled glass of water he always kept by his side. But there was no sound of water spilling.

  He flashed the light onto the glass and saw why no wearer had come out. It was more ice than water. The furnace must have run out of heating oil.

  He’d known that would happen eventually, but he’d devoted a fair amount of prayer that it might last until they moved out.

  “You couldn’t wait two more weeks?” he asked.

  Apparently it couldn’t. The question became if his sisters, Bri in particular, could make it until then.

  He allowed the familiar feeling of panic to wash over him, and then he began to think. It was only for twelve days, and for some of them at least, there would be electricity during * the day. With electricity, Bri could keep the electric blanket and electric heater on. He and Julie would be at school, and there was no reason to assume the oil would run out there.

  For the rest of the day, or what passed for day, they should all be okay if they kept on sweaters, coats, scarves, gloves, and multiple pairs of socks. The building provided some insulation from the cold. It was hard to tell, but Alex didn’t think the temperature got much below twenty degrees in the daytime outside, so it would probably be about that, maybe a bit warmer, inside.

  Nighttime would be harder, but they still had a couple of unused blankets. The girls slept in the sleeping bags. They were both so thin they could share one bag, which would help both of them since they’d share body warmth that way. It would help him as well, because he’d be warmer in a sleeping bag. Julie wouldn’t like giving up her bag, but tough. Asthma wasn’t contagious.

  With both girls in one bag, sleeping in coats and scarves and with extra blankets piled on them, they should be okay. He’d wrap himself in a blanket inside the sleeping bag, and that would have to do.

  They’d all need to sleep with as much of their heads covered as possible. But 11F had had a couple of ski masks, so the girls could wear those day and night. He’d wrap his head in a sweater, and that should help.

  It was for less than two weeks, he reminded himself. After that they’d be living in a building with heat and hot water. He just had to keep them alive for eleven more days, and then things would be all right.

  He brought the two extra blankets into the bedroom and put them over his sisters’ sleeping bodies. In the morning he’d explain the new rules to them.

  With the flashlight glowing onto his watch, he could tell it was just after five o’clock. No point going back to sleep. Instead, shaking with the cold, he dressed, then knelt in front of the crucifix they’d taken from home and prayed for the strength he and his sisters would need in the days to come.

  Friday, December 2

  There was hardly anyone on the food line, but that didn’t make things move any faster. Julie stuck by Alex’s side, the way she did now when they went to school and church. Kevin told her jokes and really seemed to listen to her. Alex could see how much she liked that.

  Every night, when Alex said his prayers, he thanked Christ for the gift of Kevin’s friendship. He would have told Kevin that, but he didn’t think Kevin would want to know.

  “How are you doing?” he asked Kevin instead, at lunch. “How’s your family?”

  “Fine,” Kevin said. “Or as fine as we can be under the circumstances.”

  “Good,” Alex said. “Are you warm enough?”

  “Right now, this very minute, no,” Kevin said.

  Alex laughed. “I mean at home,” he said. “Does your building still have heat?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Kevin said. “They moved us to a DRU before Thanksgiving, so we’re okay. Mom complains because they keep the thermostat at sixty-five. But no one ever froze to death at sixty-five.”

  “What’s a DRU?” Alex asked.

  Kevin looked uncomfortable. “Designated Residential Unit,” he said. “They’re for the families of essential personnel, to make things bearable until we get out.”

  “I guess you have to be a level six for something like that,” Alex said.

  Kevin laughed. “A level six:” he said. “That just means you can walk up six flights of stairs without risking a heart attack. Where’d you pick that up?”

  “I heard it somewhere,” Alex said. “I guess I misunderstood.” “I guess so,” Kevin said. “You okay? Do you still have heat?”

  “Oh yeah, we’re fine,” Alex said. “I was just wondering how your mother is doing.”

  “She misses our old apartment,” Kevin said. “When she’s sober enough to remember.”

  “What do you miss?” Alex said. “What’s the one thing you miss the most?”

  Kevin shrugged. “TV maybe,” he said. “Decent food. The Internet. I don’t miss the sun that much. At least I’m not freckling anymore. What about you?”

  Alex tried to come up with an answer that was short yet honest. “Family,” he finally said.

  “Stupid of me to ask,” Kevin replied. “I miss knowing I’m smart. That used to compensate for a lot in my life.”

  “Mine, too,” Alex said.

  “You ever think this is just a nightmare and someday you’ll wake up and things’ll be the way they were before?” Kevin asked.

  Alex shook his head.

  “Me neither,” Kevin said. “My mother does, though. That’s why she stays drunk. When she’s sober, she has to remember all this is real. Harvey’d better not run out of booze anytime soon. I think Mom’ll kill herself if she has to stay sober.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alex said. “That must be really hard.”

  “It’s okay,” Kevin replied. “I’d be drunk all the time too if I didn’t have to look out for her.”

  The line began to move. A woman standing a few feet ahead of them fainted. Alex and Kevin stepped around her.

  Kevin handed his bag to Alex when they finally got them. “Not much this time,” he said.

  Alex looked. Each bag had a box of rice, a can of red beans, a can of mixed vegetables, and two cans of tomato soup.

  “Maybe Harvey’ll have some stuff,” he said. “Are we still on for Monday morning?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Kevin said. “Seven o’clock, in front of your building.”

  “Good,” Alex said. “Well, I’d better go home. See you at school.”

  “Sure thing,” Kevin said.

  “Oh, and Kevin,” Alex said.

  Kevin paused.

  “Nothing,” Alex said. “Just thanks for doing this with me.”

  “Any time,” Kevin said. “See you in school.”

  Saturday, December 3

  “What’s that sound?” Bri asked that morning. “It sounds like broken glass is falling from the sky.”

  “Great,” Alex said. “That’s just what we need.”

  Bri giggled. “You sound like Julie,” she said.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Julie asked. “Alex, can we look out the window and see what’s happening?”

  Alex could think of two good reasons why they shouldn’t. The first was it would involve pulling nails out of a wall so they could fold back a section of the blanket that covered the window. The second reason was because he knew he didn’t want to see what was happening. Ostriches definitely have the right idea, he thought, as he freed himself from the blankets he’d wrapped around his body and went to the kitchen to get a hammer. He could see his breath. Nine more days, he reminded himself. We only have to survive here for nine more days.

  Julie and Bri crowded around the window as Alex lifted the blanket.

  Bri gasped. “Everything’s white.”

  “More like gray,” Julie said. “I never saw gray
snow before.”

  Alex knew it was a mistake to look. West Eighty-eighth Street was covered with snow. It was hard to estimate how much had fallen, but he guessed at least six inches, maybe more. And now it was sleeting, the snow already glistening with ice.

  “It must have started after we got home from school,” Julie said. “Do you think school will be open on Monday?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Alex said, quickly calculating how much food they had in the house and how long it could last if he and Julie didn’t eat lunch at school. “It’s not like we take a bus to get there.”

  “I used to love snow,” Bri said. “I guess now it just makes things harder.”

  Bri’s right, Alex thought, staring down the street. It was going to be hard enough to get Bri to Port Authority by foot. But now there was snow and ice on the streets, and no one would plow this far uptown.

  He looked at Bri, or more accurately, at Bri’s eves, since the rest of her face and body was covered. How much could she weigh? He’d foolishly weighed himself the week before and found he was down to 112. Bri probably weighed about ninety pounds. He’d never be able to carry her over two miles.

  What if he rigged up some kind of stretcher and he and Julie lifted together. He looked at his baby sister, who was staring out the window, transfixed by the sight of snow. He doubted she weighed eighty pounds. She seemed healthy enough and she had less trouble climbing stairs than he did lately. But it was dangerous to assume she’d be able to share the burden for such a long distance.

  Could they drag Bri on a mattress? Even if they could, the mattress would get wet, and it wouldn’t be good for Bri to be lying on a wet mattress in below-freezing weather for the three hours or more it might take. Besides, as the mattress took on moisture, it would get heavier and harder to pull.

  How could God do this to them? What had they done that deserved such punishment?

  “I don’t care if it is gray,” Bri said. “It’s still beautiful. And look how it covers the corpses.”

  “Great,” Julie said. “Now the rats’ll be pissed off.”

  “Don’t use language like that,” Alex said automatically, and in spite of himself, he laughed.

  Humility, he reminded himself. God wasn’t singling him out. If he placed his faith in Christ and used whatever brain cells he had left, the solution would come to him. Because somewhere there was a solution. There had to be. There had to.

  Sunday, December 4

  “Come on,” Bri said, going into the living room and shaking Alex awake. “It’s Sunday. We don’t want to miss Mass.”

  “Go back to bed,” Alex said. “You’ll freeze standing there.”

  “I’m not so cold,” Bri said. “Besides, there’s heat at St. Margaret’s. Please, Alex. Get ready, and then I’ll wake Julie.”

  Alex reluctantly climbed out of the sleeping bag and walked to the window. He pulled the blanket away and gestured for Bri to join him.

  “Look out there,” he said. “There’s snow and sleet and snow on top of the sleet. How the hell do you think we’re going to get to church?”

  “We can manage,” Bri said. “I won’t hold you back, I promise.”

  “No,” Alex said. “Maybe next Sunday if the snow disappears. But not today.”

  Bri began to cry.

  “What?” Alex said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “It’s just one Sunday. God will understand.”

  Bri shook her head. “It’s not that,” she said. “I know Christ will forgive us for not going to church today.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know everyone is suffering. It’s just I feel so trapped. Sunday is the only day I’m outside. I guess God could tell my motives were impure. I’ll pray for His forgiveness.”

  “Tell you what,” Alex said. “Go back to bed and sleep a while longer. We’ll all pray this afternoon for God’s forgiveness.”

  Bri giggled. “Julie’ll love that,” she said. “But thanks, Alex, for understanding.”

  “I try,” Alex said. “Now go. You may not be cold, but I’m freezing.”

  Bri gave her brother a quick kiss. “See you later,” she said, going back to her room.

  Alex continued to stare outside. A foot of snow, he estimated, with an inch or more of ice sandwiched in there. Bri was right to feel trapped.

  He dressed quickly, wrote a note for his sisters saying he was going out to see how conditions were, then walked down the twelve flights of stairs. Down was easier than up, but he was still short of breath by the time he reached the building’s lobby.

  The front door opened inward, so it was no problem getting it open. But the snow was even deeper than he’d guessed.

  He cursed himself as he walked down to Papi’s office in search of a shovel and rock salt. He should have eaten something. It was going to be hard enough to shovel the snow just so they could get out of the building. It would be that much harder with his not having eaten in twenty hours.

  But the thought of climbing the twelve flights just to ram cold rice and beans into his mouth was even worse. He’d manage. He had no choice.

  The shovel and bag of rock salt were right where he remembered. Of all Papi’s janitorial obligations, this was the one he liked the least, so Carlos and Alex had done the brunt of the shoveling. It had snowed a lot the previous winter; Alex could remember a half dozen mornings when Papi woke him before dawn so he could get the shoveling done before the people in the building got up. Papi gave him hell if he left any snow on the sidewalk, even though scores of people would walk over it and it would melt before noon.

  He tried carrying both the shovel and the twenty-pound bag of rock salt, but couldn’t manage it. So he left the bag of rock salt in the stairwell, and took the shovel upstairs. He could hear Papi laughing at him for his weakness, and he used his anger and resentment to give him the energy he needed* to clear the snow from in front of the door.

  The work was brutal. It was a heavy snow, and with the ice intermixed, every shovelful took all his strength to lift and carry. It didn’t help that twice as he flung the snow onto a pile of decomposing bodies, he found he was also tossing rats that had frozen in the snowfall. After a few minutes he realized he needed to stop just to catch his breath every single time he shoveled. He really was blanducho, the way Papi always said.

  After half an hour he’d cleared enough space in front of the door that he could stand outside and survey what remained to be done. Not that much really, he decided. Just shovel from the building to the street, then shovel West Eighty-eighth down to West End, then West End to Columbus Circle, and over to Eighth Avenue, and then down Eighth to Forty-second Street and Port Authority. Probably not even that much. If the powerful people had had the good sense to leave some other people around to do the cleaning for them, from Columbus Circle down was probably clear of snow. He’d only have to shovel for a mile and a half. Piece of cake for a level twelve.

  He still had no idea how he could get Bri from Eighty-eighth Street downtown. He doubted she’d have the strength to walk as far as Broadway.

  Alex began shoveling from the building to the street, not knowing what else to do. He was accustomed to the silence now, but except for the wind whipping around, things seemed even quieter than they had been just two days before. The whole block was deserted, he realized. He, Bri, and Julie seemed to be the only people still alive on West Eighty-eighth. When they left, there’d be nobody.

  He stood for a moment, resting against the shovel. He never should have let Bri go to the convent. That was the first mistake. If he hadn’t sent her away, she would have gone with Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Lorraine, and for all he knew, she never would have become asthmatic. If he’d known Bri was someplace safe, he could have looked for a place for Julie to go. It might not have been with la familia, but things hadn’t been that desperate in June, and there would have been somebody trustworthy who’d have agreed to take her and protect her.

  And if he hadn’t had his sisters tying him d
own, he could have left New York and tried his luck elsewhere. Maybe he could have tracked down Carlos and joined the Marines. Carlos was probably someplace warm, eating three meals a day and sleeping in a real bed. That was the life.

  He felt like screaming. Every single thing he’d done had been wrong, and his sisters’ lives were at risk because of him.

  He got on his knees, not caring that the icy wetness seeped through his pants legs, and begged for God’s mercy for his sisters.

  “Alex?”

  He looked up and saw Julie standing in the doorway.

  “What?” he said.

  “Bri told me to get you,” she said. “She was worried.”

  He stood up, feeling like a fool. “Tell her I’m fine,” he said. “I’ll be upstairs in a few minutes. I have to finish shoveling the sidewalk.”

  “You don’t have to,” Julie asked. “There’s no one here except us.”

  “I know,” Alex said. “But Papi would expect me to.”

  Chapter 16

  Monday, December 5

  Alex decided he’d give Kevin fifteen minutes to show before going back inside. If the apartment had any kind of heat, he would have stood by the front door of his building for five, but since it was just marginally warmer indoors, he opted for fifteen.

  He would have needed only the five-minute deadline. Kevin showed up at 7:03.

  “You’re crazy, you know that,” Alex said. “How’d you even manage to get here?”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Kevin replied. “They’ve done some shoveling and plowing in my neighborhood.” He looked at the sidewalk in front of Alex’s building. “Nice job,” he said. “You pay a kid to do it?”

  “I wish,” Alex said. “You really think we’re going to find anything?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Kevin said. “The pickings should be really good. Lots of new bodies by the park. Some suicides; the storm was just too much for them, I guess. And people are dropping like flies. One of the doctors in our DRU says there’s a mean flu bug going around.”