“Thanks,” Maura said.
“I’m not sure how helpful I’m going to be, though,” Luis said. “So we’re at the hospital, and then what? We send a bird back with a note for your mom?”
“A carrier pigeon,” Maura said. “Or what about Pony Express?”
“Morse code?” Luis said. “And are smoke signals a real thing? I’ve never been sure.”
Suddenly, Maura’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait a second,” she said. “I know where there’s a phone.”
“What do you mean? A phone that isn’t dead?” her mom asked.
Maura nodded toward the garage. “Grandpa’s. Usually he keeps it plugged in and turned off. You know how he believes in ‘saving the battery.’ ”
“How did we forget that?” her mom said. “But one phone’s no help, honey. We need two.”
Maura stood up. “You keep Grandpa’s phone. We’ll find one at the hospital to call from. Come on, Luis. Let’s go get it.”
Luis didn’t like Maura ordering him around. On the other hand, his fingers were itching for a phone—even one that wasn’t his own. He hadn’t been without one for this many hours since he was little. It wasn’t exactly as bad as losing a hand—or maybe it was.
No one had been in Mr. O’Hara’s apartment since the EMTs took him out, and the place was a mess—furniture shoved out of place, magazines and papers on the floor, a potted plant tipped over, scuff marks on the carpet.
“We’ll clean it up later,” Maura said, “before he comes home. There’s the phone on the windowsill like always.” In an instant it was in her hand, and she was powering it up. Luis looked at the screen, willing the white icon to appear. It did, and then the battery indicator too. The phone was almost fully charged.
“This ought to last us till the power comes back, right?” Maura said.
“Hope so,” said Luis, but then the “enter pass code” screen appeared.
“Shoot!” Maura said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I heard somewhere it’s always one-two-three-four,” Luis said, “since most people aren’t creative.”
Maura tried, but that wasn’t it. She looked at Luis. “We can’t make too many mistakes, or it will think we’re hackers and lock us out.”
“Numbers of his favorite football players?” Luis said.
“I hope not,” Maura said. “Because I have no idea who that is. Besides, even though he watches, he thinks criminals fix the games so a particular team wins and the criminals make money.”
Luis shook his head. “So all the players are in on it and keep quiet? That’s a little crazy, Maura.”
“He can be a little crazy,” Maura said. “Like this thing with the batteries and canned food. He told me ‘they’ are out to get us and we have to be ready.”
“ ‘They’ who?” Luis asked. “The criminals who fix the games?”
“Maybe,” Maura said. “I didn’t really understand.”
Luis wanted to laugh but didn’t. Mr. O’Hara was Maura’s grandfather, and he was sick. “Well, whatever”—Luis shrugged—“this phone’s useless without the pass code.”
Maura had been thinking, and while she thought she frowned. Then, abruptly, her forehead cleared, and she punched in four new numbers.
Bingo. There was the home screen, and on it the beginning of a text message. None of my business, Luis thought, and looked away, but not before he’d read the first few words: Hey pops so far so good.
Maura never even pretended to look away. And then, to Luis’s surprise, she swiped to read the rest of the message.
“Maura!” he protested. “It’s for your grandpa. It’s not okay for you—”
“I know,” Maura said. “But I’m nosy.”
Luis was shocked. But in the end he couldn’t help it. He read the message too:
Zap, Hampton, and lights out. Thanks for your help. Delete this don’t forget & CU soon. We owe you.
The sender was somebody named NB1231. Luis looked at Maura. “Do you know who that is?”
Maura didn’t answer.
He elbowed her. “Maura?”
“Ow—what?” She looked up. “Do I know . . . ? Uh, no. But, Luis, what do you think that means? Because I don’t like—”
“Scroll up,” said Luis—disregarding privacy. “See if there’s older messages in the string.”
But there weren’t. Maybe Grandpa had deleted them. This one he couldn’t delete because he got sick before he saw it.
“Hey.” Luis had a sudden brainstorm. “What time did that text come in anyway?”
Maura looked back at the phone. “Seven forty-two.”
Luis took a breath to slow down his heart. “I don’t like what I’m thinking either. Should we talk to your mom?”
“We have to,” Maura said. “Come on.”
On their way downstairs, Luis remembered something. “Hey, Maura—what did you use for the pass code?”
“My birthday,” Maura said. “A lot of people use their own, but he’s not that stuck-up.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mrs. Brown shook her head so hard Luis thought she’d hurt her neck.
“You are being ridiculous,” she told Maura. “My father would never—”
“But, Mom, just listen. It’s not ridiculous—”
“Of course it is,” Mrs. Brown said, interrupting her. “I won’t have you insulting your grandfather—especially when he can’t defend himself. It’s some kind of dumb coincidence. How can you think anything else? Where’s your loyalty to your family?”
Maura was working hard to keep her voice even. “Seven forty-two is the time the power went out. It’s on Luis’s clock even. Why did Grandpa say it at the hospital? Why is it the same time this message was sent? Grandpa said ‘zap’ just like the message too. And he bought all those survival supplies—the ones we’re using now. Did he know something was going to happen?”
Mrs. Brown’s face had turned pink, and a vein pulsed in her temple. When she took her father’s phone, her hand was trembling. But she controlled her voice. “Dumb coincidences,” she said.
“Didn’t NJL do something that made Grandpa mad? Something with the money they pay retired guys every month?” Maura said.
“They cut his pension,” said Mrs. Brown. “And it wasn’t one bit fair. But he would never do anything wrong. He’s not like that. Besides, he’s old—and he’s sick too. I wish people would just leave him alone, including you.”
Maura looked at Luis, then at her mom. “Sorry,” she said.
“Me too, Mrs. Brown,” Luis said.
• • •
Maura and Luis left Mr. O’Hara’s phone with Mrs. Brown and jumped on their bikes. It was eleven a.m. Joining the lukewarm chocolate milk in Luis’s backpack were two heavy-duty flashlights, spare batteries, and a lantern—all borrowed from the hall closet. At the last minute, Luis had thrown in a box of granola bars too. Computer Genius would probably be hungry.
Maura and Luis tried to talk while they rode but soon gave up. With so much traffic, navigating took all their concentration. It was a Tuesday in October, but the scene was like a summer Friday when tourists drove through on their way to the Jersey Shore. Avoiding cars was hard, and the exhaust fumes were enough to make your chest hurt.
Luis wondered who all these people were and whether his parents would soon be among them. Once they were refugees fleeing war and violence in Nicaragua. Maybe they’d be refugees all over again. Maybe they’d want him to leave with them. He couldn’t play detective if he wasn’t around. He would have to think of something.
In the hospital lobby, the same NJL spokesperson was on the TV. Her eyes were puffy, but her hair looked as smooth as ever. “It’s true we have no timetable yet for restoration of power,” she said.
The camera switched to the newsroom, and the anchorwoman announced that casualties were mounting. A whole family had suffered carbon monoxide poisoning because their home generator wasn’t venting properly. A woman had fallen asleep with candle
s burning. She was badly burned when her house caught fire. Meanwhile, an overloaded backup generator had damaged equipment at the sewage treatment plant, and public health officials were warning people in some neighborhoods not to drink or bathe in water from the tap.
“Authorities are organizing bottled water drops at the present time, but residents should be patient,” the anchorwoman said. “Now let’s go to Hampton Emergency Manager Emma Perris on the line with us from city hall. Are you there, Ms. Perris?”
“I’m here, but I’ve only got a second.”
“We know you’re busy, and thanks for taking the time. Can you just tell us how your people are doing this afternoon?” the anchorwoman asked.
“Well, to be honest, we really did not need that water plant failure. It looks like the repercussions of the power outage are beginning to snowball. This thing could soon be so big we can’t ride it out.”
“That sounds ominous. What do you mean exactly, Ms. Perris?”
“I mean we don’t have the resources on our own to cope. Mayor Manuel has already asked the governor to declare a state of emergency, which we hope will help. Our people are exhausted, and add water delivery on top of everything else . . . ? Let’s just say the logistics pose a challenge. Look, thanks for your interest, but I—”
“Thank you, Ms. Perris. We’ll let you get back to work.”
Luis looked at Maura. “Did you say something about water before?” he asked.
Still staring at the TV, she nodded. “I did. And now I keep thinking this is like a movie—everything happening according to a script. Only we don’t know the ending.”
“The ending?” Luis repeated. “Talk about ominous, Maura.”
Maura tore her eyes away from the screen and looked at him. “Now you’re the one getting dramatic.”
Luis started to argue and then remembered the confrontation with Tony at the bodega. It would have been uncool to tell Maura what happened. But he guessed it had been dramatic too—a showdown, and the good guy had won.
Maybe today he’d be the good guy again. If Mr. O’Hara was well enough to answer questions, maybe he—Luis—could do something to turn on the lights.
Or maybe he had read too many Greek myths.
“What are you smiling about?” Maura asked.
“Nothing,” Luis said. “Sheesh—look at that.”
The TV showed a crowd shouting, “Power to the people!” outside the NJL offices. Police in helmets and vests faced them from behind orange barricades. When a man in a suit came out to speak to them, someone threw a rock, and he hurried back inside.
Watching the faces in the crowd turn ugly, Luis felt his stomach lurch. That building was only a few blocks away. He had walked by it a bunch of times.
“Come on.” Maura grabbed his hand. “The stairway’s not getting shorter while we wait.”
At the fifth-floor nurse’s station, Maura asked about her grandfather and learned that his condition was stable and he had been transferred to his own room.
“Are kids allowed?” Luis asked.
“Not without a guardian,” the nurse said. “Do you have a guardian?”
“Yes,” said Maura.
The nurse did not look up. “Sixth floor,” she said.
“You are gonna get us in trouble,” Luis told Maura as they climbed the last flight of stairs.
“I told the honest truth,” Maura said. “I do have a guardian. She just doesn’t happen to be here now.”
Mr. O’Hara’s new room smelled like disinfectant and old flowers. It was a shared room, and the other patient was in his own bed on the other side of a white divider curtain. He had visitors too. When Luis and Maura walked in, a middle-aged woman sitting in a chair leaned back to see who it was, then smiled weakly and raised her hand.
Luis and Maura smiled back and nodded.
Mr. O’Hara himself lay flat in bed, frail and insignificant. If anything, there were more tubes and wires than there had been the day before. Somehow, his feet had become uncovered, gnarly feet with yellow toenails and blue veins. Luis was sure Mr. O’Hara would not have wanted them exposed that way. It was undignified. Maura must have felt the same because she tugged the sheet to cover them up.
Maura and Luis approached the head of the bed. Mr. O’Hara’s eyes were half open, so that he seemed to be staring at the dull green ceiling. Or maybe he had his own private TV replaying his personal greatest hits? Luis hoped that was it.
“Grandpa?” Maura leaned over and spoke quietly into his ear. “It’s Maura and Luis. How do you feel?”
To Luis’s surprise, Mr. O’Hara tilted his head toward Maura, blinked and grunted. Maura must not have expected this either because she started and looked up. Luis nodded encouragement. He knew what she was feeling, like they were watching someone waking from the dead.
“What, Grandpa? Are you trying to say something?”
“Show them,” he mumbled. “Zap.”
“He said it again. You heard it, right?” Luis said.
Maura nodded. “I heard it.”
Luis leaned down and spoke into Mr. O’Hara’s ear. “Do you know who caused the blackout, Mr. O’Hara? Do you know how they can fix it?”
“Luis!” Maura scolded him. “Leave him alone! You’ll make him sicker.”
“You heard the news, Maura,” Luis said. “If your grandpa knows something—”
“My grandpa is sick,” Maura said.
Luis thought of Mrs. Brown—what she’d said about family loyalty. Then he took a long breath and let it out. “Okay, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” The voice came from the doorway behind Luis and Maura. “Am I interrupting? Maura, nice to see you—sorry the circumstances aren’t happier.”
“Uncle Nate!” said Maura.
Luis turned and saw a middle-aged white guy with a long face and short dark hair. He was wearing a suit and a purple bow tie. He smiled broadly when he saw Maura. He had small, even teeth.
“Heard this guy was laid up and thought I’d better check in on him. Hey, buddy.” The man rested his hands on the bed railing and leaned over Mr. O’Hara. “Not looking too chipper. How ya feelin’?”
Mr. O’Hara did not respond.
The man stood up and spoke softly to Maura. “A stroke, was it? Jeez, that’s tough.”
Maura introduced the man to Luis. “This is my uncle Nate. Only he’s not really my uncle.”
“I used to work with Pops here and with Emily—Maura’s mom,” the guy said. “Families have always been friends. That sort of thing.”
“Cool,” said Luis. “I have lots of aunts and uncles too.”
“So does he have everything he needs?” Uncle Nate asked Maura. “Rotten timing him getting sick now. When exactly was he admitted?”
Maura explained.
“I guess he hasn’t woken up to say anything?” Uncle Nate asked.
“Not really,” Maura said.
“So how can I help out?” Uncle Nate asked. “How are you keeping in touch with your mom, Maura? Has she got a landline, or are you running on dead phones like everybody else?”
“No landline, but my grandpa’s phone is still charged,” Maura said. “My mom has it. We’re going to call her in a few with the update.”
Maura’s uncle Nate straightened his bow tie. “So your mom’s got his phone, huh. Hey, I know. Do you think she might need a ride over here later?”
Maura smiled. “That would be great, Uncle Nate. Her car is almost out of gas.”
Uncle Nate looked at his watch. “I’ve got some TV stuff now, but as soon as I can.” He turned back to the bed and leaned down. “You take care now, Mr. O’Hara. Let the médicos sort you out.”
Mr. O’Hara didn’t react.
Luis turned to Maura when her uncle Nate was gone. “That’s the guy who works for the lady with the truck? He looks kind of familiar.”
Maura nodded. “He’s on TV a lot. He and my mom and my grandpa all used to work for NJL. Come on. Let’s call my mom. She must
be really worried by now.”
There was no phone in Mr. O’Hara’s room, but the nurse at the sixth-floor nurse’s station said it would be okay if Maura used the hospital’s. Mrs. Brown must have had Grandpa’s phone in her hand because she answered right away.
“Oh, I’m so relieved he’s out of the ICU, but how does he seem?” she asked Maura after receiving the update. Her voice was loud enough that Luis could hear her too.
“He kind of seemed to know we were there,” Maura said. “And one other thing, Mom.” She explained about Uncle Nate.
“That’s awfully kind of him,” Mrs. Brown said. “So are you on your way back here now?”
“Not exactly,” Maura said. “Luis and I have to get some stuff at school, maybe see his friend Carlos too. I’ll be home soon.”
“Wait, what?” Luis shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
Maura smiled her most innocent smile. “See you later, Mom,” she said, and hung up.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
What do you mean you’re coming with us to check on Computer Genius?” Luis began. He and Maura were on the stairs again, somewhere between floors three and two.
“I figured you forgot to ask me, so I saved you the trouble,” Maura said. “What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is you’re not coming. The big deal is it’s too dangerous,” Luis said.
“For a girl, you mean?” Maura said.
“For you,” Luis said. He knew some girls went exploring, but Maura wasn’t one of them.
“If it’s dangerous, then you shouldn’t do it either,” Maura said. “But you’re going to and I’m going with you. It’s not like Carlos is exactly Superman. I’m pretty sure I’m stronger than him, and I’m definitely faster.”
“So what? You think we’re going to be running away from something?” Luis said. “Anyway, Carlos will never let you come with us.”
“I didn’t know Carlos was in charge,” Maura said as they left the dim stairwell for the bright lobby, where the usual knot of people lingered by the TV.
The cast of characters on-screen had changed. Now a black man with gray hair was sitting at the anchor desk. “Candidate Julia Girardo has called a rally outside city hall,” he said. “Mayor Manuel and Hampton police tried to discourage the assembly, but the candidate told Fox News that her supporters had the right to assemble and make known their dissatisfaction.”
Zap! Page 7