The Dead and the Gone ls-2

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

  “Great,” Alex said. “Just what we need.”

  Kevin laughed. “We’re lucky it’s not plague,” he said. “Harvey says there’s an uptick in the market for jewelry. So we need to start taking wedding rings and engagement rings and earrings and anything else we can find. I guess they realized nobody’s going to be mining for a while.”

  Alex hated taking wedding rings off bodies, but they needed food for one more week. He’d leave a note for Kevin when they left so he wouldn’t worry. He’d be gone soon enough himself, maybe even to the same town as Alex.

  Alex followed the footsteps Kevin had made going to his apartment. They were the only footprints in the snow. If there were still people living on the Upper West Side, they hadn’t left their apartments since Saturday.

  It was hard walking and the boys kept mostly to themselves as the walked east. The city would have been beautiful if the snow were white. But everything was corpse gray. No matter where Alex ended up, he wasn’t going to miss New York. He’d be sorry to leave Kevin and Vincent de Paul and St. Margaret’s and even Father Mulrooney, but that was it. Anyplace would be better than this.

  He thought about Chris Flynn in South Carolina. Maybe it was warm there, or at least warmer. If there were still colleges, Chris would be sure to find one. A year ago, it would have driven him crazy to think of Chris getting into a good school somewhere while he didn’t even know if he’d be going to college. Now, what difference did it make.

  “Do you ever think about Chris Flynn?” he asked Kevin.

  “Muhuhmhm,” Kevin said. He’d wrapped his scarf around his mouth, and between that and the wind howling down Central Park West, it was impossible to understand what he was saying.

  Not that it mattered. Chris had his life and Kevin had his.

  The only important thing was getting Alex’s sisters and himself to a place of safety.

  He looked ahead and thought he saw the glint of a diamond about a block away. Maybe a fluicide, he thought, and he began to laugh. He trudged ahead, trying to maintain traction on the ice-crusted snow. If a ten-thousand-dollar lottery ticket could buy a can of pineapple, who knew what a diamond ring was worth.

  Alex wasn’t sure what caught his attention first, the odd crackling noise or the funny sound Kevin made or even the silence that followed. But something made him stop and turn around.

  He wished he hadn’t. He wished he’d kept on trudging toward the diamond ring that might have brought his family a can of sliced peaches. He wished he’d kept on walking until he’d walked out of New York City altogether to someplace warm and safe.

  Instead he turned around and saw Kevin lying on the sidewalk, an ice-laden tree limb across his neck, pinning him down.

  Alex retraced his steps in the snow. Kevin was lying facedown, and Alex’s first thought was that he would suffocate in the snow. He tried lifting the branch oft him, but it was too large and too heavy with snow and ice. Alex looked up and could see the fresh torn gap in the tree where the limb had fallen from.

  “Help!” Alex screamed. “Someone help me!”

  But of course no one did. No one had helped Julie when she’d cried out a few weeks before. New York was more dead than alive, and those people who were still around didn’t help anyone but themselves.

  Kevin’s head was twisted and Alex could see his right eye, looking more startled than scared or dead. He pulled off his gloves and tried to find Kevin’s pulse. Then he decided that was a waste of time; what he needed to do was get Kevin out from under the branch. If he couldn’t lift it, he’d tunnel Kevin out. Without even bothering to put his glove back on, he began digging the icy snow under Kevin’s head and under the tree branch, so he could pull Kevin out. Kevin wasn’t breathing, and Alex realized he needed to unwrap the scarf around Kevin’s mouth. It was caught in the branch, and Alex had to yank at it, making Kevin’s head jerk. Alex screamed in horror, and that was when he knew the only friend he’d ever really had was dead. If Kevin had been alive, even if his life were just a flicker, he would have laughed at scaring Alex so effectively.

  But Alex kept digging. Eventually he created a pocket big enough to wiggle Kevin out from under the limb. He grabbed under Kevin’s arms and pulled. It took more strength than he knew he had, but Kevin was finally freed.

  Alex’s heart was racing, but he didn’t know if it was from the exertion or from seeing Kevin lying there. It didn’t matter. He turned Kevin over so he was lying flat on his back.

  He felt for a pulse again. He put his ear next to Kevin’s mouth. He pounded on Kevin’s chest in some vague imitation of CPR.

  “Wake up!” he screamed at Kevin. “Make him wake up!” he screamed at God.

  Kevin’s eves stared at the sky. His mouth was half twisted, almost smiling—the red of the blood that had dripped out of his nose and mouth the only color left in New York.

  Please, God, Alex prayed. Cherish this soul. He didn’t mean half the things he said.

  With Kevin staring heavenward, Alex pulled off his watch so he could give it to Kevin’s parents. Then Alex realized he had no idea where Kevin’s parents were. He didn’t know the address of their DRU, and he didn’t know where Daley Trucking was located.

  It seemed unlikely that Kevin would have carried ID on him, let alone up-to-the-minute ID, but Alex had to make sure. Almost apologetically, he went through Kevin’s pockets. All he found was the gun.

  Alex pulled it out. He recognized it right away, from that first day they’d gone body shopping. Funny to think Kevin carried it around and Alex hadn’t known. He knew more about Kevin than about almost anyone else in his life, but apparently he hadn’t known nearly as much as he thought he had.

  Alex took off his other glove, then fumbled around trying to unclasp the cross he always wore around his neck. He was shaking so hard it took a minute or more before he could undo it, but when he did, he kissed it, then put it over Kevin’s heart. Then he closed his friend’s eyes.

  At some point Kevin’s parents would worry about him, he realized, as he walked toward the diamond ring and the body wearing it. Maybe they knew where Alex lived and maybe they didn’t, but it was unlikely they knew which apartment the Morales family had taken over. Most likely they’d check at Vincent de Paul to see if Kevin had shown up for school.

  Alex twisted the diamond ring off the dead woman’s finger. He’d take Kevin’s watch to school and give it to Father Mulrooney, he decided. It was a priest’s job to comfort a family. Alex’s job was to keep his sisters alive and safe.

  With the ring and the gun and the watch in his pocket, Alex began the long journey back uptown. Maybe, he thought, the diamond ring and the gun could buy Bri a safe way to get to the convoy. Kevin would like that.

  Tuesday, December 6

  “I have some very sad news to convey,” Father Mulrooney informed the handful of boys that made up the student body of St. Vincent de Paul Academy.

  Alex waited for the announcement of Kevin’s death. When he’d told the priest about Kevin the day before, Father Mulrooney had seemed genuinely saddened.

  “Mr. Kim has died,” Father Mulrooney said instead. “Most unexpectedly. His death will be profoundly felt in our community.”

  Mr. Kim had taught science with enthusiasm if not much scholarship. Alex had liked him well enough, but he wouldn’t have been someone he’d miss once he and his sisters were gone.

  Still, it was odd to hear he’d died. Another fluicide, he guessed.

  Wednesday, December 7

  “I need something from you,” Alex said to Harvey. “I’m willing to barter.”

  “Anything for a friend of Kevin’s,” Harvey replied. “Funny, I haven’t seen him the past couple of days.”

  Alex shrugged. “I need a sled,” he said.

  Harvey laughed. “Want a dog team to go along with that?” he asked.

  “Just a regular sled,” Alex said. “But I’ve got to be able to pull it. Good-sized, too, not a little kiddie one.”

  Harvey look
ed thoughtful. “I might be able to do that,” he said. “When do you need it?”

  “As soon as possible,” Alex said. He only wished he’d thought of a sled earlier in the week. But Kevin’s death had made it hard for him to think about much of anything. Or maybe he was just too hungry these days to think and Kevin’s death was merely an excuse. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except figuring out a way of getting Bri downtown, and a sled seemed to make the most sense.

  “You said you had something to barter,” Harvey said. “A sled’s a big-ticket item. It ain’t no can of green peas. Whatcha got?”

  Alex pulled out the diamond ring and Kevin’s gun. “How’s this?” he asked.

  “Pretty impressive,” Harvey said. “I like the gun. Always a market for those. You been holdin’ out on me, kid? You got any more merchandise like that?”

  Alex thought about the last four cans of Papi’s beer that he’d been saving for an emergency. “Nothing this good,” he said. “I really need that sled, Harvey.”

  “Tell you what,” Harvey said. “You come by tomorrow morning. Either I’ll have the sled or I won’t, but I’ll know by then. You got anything else for me today?”

  Alex looked at the cans of spinach on the shelf behind the counter.

  “I don’t suppose I could have some spinach on account,” he said.

  “On accounta what?” Harvey asked, then burst out laughing. “Sorry, kid. Cash and carry. No more handouts just because I like someone.”

  Alex nodded. “Just thought I’d ask,” he said.

  “Never hurts to ask,” Harvey said. “See you in the morning. Maybe I’ll have that sled for you. And who knows. Maybe I’ll threw in a can of that spinach while I’m at it.”

  Thursday, December 8

  Harvey had outdone himself, Alex thought as he carried the sled into his old basement apartment. The sled was close to perfect. It was large enough for Bri to sit on comfortably and it had footrests so she could shift her weight around during the long trip to Port Authority. It was heavy plastic, with runners high enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about Bri getting wet from the snow. Its only drawback was its single pull rope, which meant he’d have to do the dragging by himself. But he and Julie probably wouldn’t have been able to pull in unison anyway.

  It felt strange unlocking the door to the basement apartment. Alex hadn’t been there since the move to 12B, but it made no sense to carry the sled upstairs when they’d be using it in just a few days. There’d been no electricity, not even on weekdays, since the snowstorm. Alex couldn’t wait to get out.

  Everything smelled damp and musty. It was hard to believe they’d all lived there and never noticed that. We were mole people, he thought. In a few days, though, they’d be the elite.

  He went to Mami’s bedroom and pulled down the boxes from her closet shelf. It was hard to see anything, since so little natural light came in and he hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight or candles with him. But eventually he found their birth certificates and baptismal certificates.

  Alex looked through the rest of the apartment, in case there was anything there they needed to take with them. On the kitchen counter by the phone was the note he’d left saying they’d moved to 12B. He wasn’t sure what to do about it. There seemed to be no point in writing a new note, since he didn’t know where they’d be going.

  Once Bri and Julie were settled and safe, he’d somehow locate Carlos and tell him where the girls were. Mami or Papi could find him also, if they ever came back. In case anyone showed up before Monday, Alex left the note. He gave his home one more look. He still remembered moving there when he was five. He’d gone outside to play with some kids and he’d said something in Spanish. The kids had all laughed at him and he’d run back to Mami, crying.

  “Here you speak English,” she said to him. “No more Spanish.”

  That had been easy enough; he’d grown up hearing both. But he never tried to play with the neighborhood kids after that. Carlos had, no problem. But Alex always felt the kids looked down on him. They were all Danny O’Briens.

  But in five days he’d become a Danny O’Brien. It was like something out of a Dickens novel, he thought. Foundling discovers he’s really a long-lost millionaire. Of course he wasn’t a foundling or a millionaire, but it was the same basic concept. And he’d earned this trip up the social ladder through his hard work at Vincent de Paul. Mr. Flynn wouldn’t have given the passes to just anybody. It wasn’t an act of charity. It was an act of respect.

  Papi would be proud of me, he thought. I’ve taken care of my sisters. I’ve been a man.

  Friday, December 9

  He’d woken Julie and made her go on the food line with him. He wished he didn’t have to, but there was no food in the house and if they were going to make it through the weekend, they needed every can they could get.

  The line seemed safe enough, though; there were so few people on it. Alex made sure Julie stood by his side for the couple of hours they waited. He guessed the temperature had fallen below zero. Hell won’t be hot, he thought. It’ll be cold like this.

  “Where’s Kevin?” Julie finally asked.

  He knew she would ask, but that didn’t make it easier. “He’s dead,” he replied.

  “Are you sure?” Julie asked. “Maybe he’s just gone.”

  “I was there,” Alex said. “He’s dead all right.”

  “Oh,” Julie said. “Three of the sisters died, too. Well, Sister Joanne was just a postulant.”

  “How’d they die?” Alex asked, not wanting to talk about Kevin.

  Julie shrugged. “They got sick,” she said. “Sister Rita didn’t tell us of what or anything. She was crying, only she was pretending not to. But we could all tell. Not that there are that many of us left. Maybe some of the girls have died, too.”

  “They’ve probably just moved on,” Alex said. “Most people have.”

  “I don’t want to die,” Julie said. “Sister Rita said Sister Dolores and Sister Claire and Sister Joanne are in heaven with the Holy Virgin, but I’d still rather be alive.”

  “Me too,” Alex said.

  They stood silently for a while. Then Julie took his hand.

  “I’m sorry Kevin died,” she said. “He was a good friend.”

  “Yes,” Alex said. “He was.”

  Sunday, December 11

  “Julie, I need you to go to eleven F,” Alex said after lunch. “I want you to see if there’s anything left we can use.”

  “Why do I have to go?” Julie said. “There’s nothing there.”

  “You have to go because I told you to,” Alex said. “Julie, just do it. Don’t give me a hard time.”

  “What if there’s someone in the stairwell?” she asked.

  “There isn’t,” Alex said. “No one’s left here but us. Please. It’s just one floor. You’ll be fine.”

  Julie grabbed the flashlight. “You’d better hope no one’s there,” she said. “God’ll never forgive you if there is.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” Alex said. “Now go.” He watched as Julie left the apartment. When he heard her walk down the hallway, he went into the bedroom. Bri was huddled in the sleeping bag, but even though she had on two coats and several blankets, she was still shaking from cold. Just one more day, Alex told himself. In one more day they’d be on their way to safety.

  Bri looked up at him and smiled. “I thought Julie would come in to get my plate,” she said. “Are you doing the housework now?”

  Alex grinned. “Not a chance,” he said. “No, I need to talk to you, Bri. Alone. I sent Julie off on an errand so we can talk.”

  Bri struggled to sit up. The exertion made her cough. She grabbed her inhaler and took a deep breath.

  One more day, Alex thought. He sat on the bed next to his sister. “Bri, I’m going to tell you something and I don’t want you to get upset,” he began. “I’m going to ask you to make a big sacrifice for Julie.”

  “I’d do anything for Julie,” Bri said. �
��You know that.”

  Alex nodded. He was counting on it. “Bri, it isn’t safe for Julie in New York anymore,” he said. “I’m not talking about the cold or being hungry. I mean safe for a girl.”

  Bri’s eyes opened wide. “Nothing’s happened, has it?” she asked.

  “Nothing’s happened,” Alex said. “But Papi taught me the most important thing a man can do is to protect the women he loves. I have to protect you and Julie, and I’ve been trying the best I can up until now. But conditions are getting worse, so I’ve made arrangements for all of us. We’re leaving New York tomorrow. Remember Chris Flynn? His father gave me passes for the three of us to take us to a safe place, a place where the families of the really important people go.”

  “No,” Bri said, half choking. “You go. You and Julie. I’ll stay here for Mami and Papi.”

  Alex stroked Bri’s hair. “Julie won’t go without you and neither will I. For our sake, you have to come with us.”

  “But what about Mami and Papi?” Bri cried. “How will they find us?”

  “I figured that out,” Alex said. “After we’ve moved I’ll find Carlos and tell him where we are. He can tell Mami and Papi. But we have to leave, Bri. If Julie’s life means anything to you, we all have to leave tomorrow.”

  “I’m scared,” Bri said. “Alex, it scares me. I know I’m holding you back.” She began to cry. “I’m sorry I ever came home. I should have stayed at the convent and died there.”

  “Idiota,” Alex said, kissing Bri on her forehead. “I need you alive and so does Julie. Now don’t be a dramatica like Aunt Lorraine. Think about how wonderful it’s going to be living someplace with heat and electricity and three meals a day.”

  Bri took another puff from her inhaler. “Do you think I’ll get better?” she asked.

  “It’s what I pray for,” Alex said.

  Bri took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t make things any easier for you. But I’m sure I’m strong enough to walk to Port Authority.”

  “You won’t have to,” Alex replied. “You should see the sled I got you. Well, you will see it tomorrow. You’ll ride in luxury all the way there. After that the bus will take us to our new home. That may take a couple of days, but the bus will have heat. Can you believe that; Heat.” He laughed. “We’ll be living like royalty starting tomorrow.”