"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 knocking. 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.
"I hope so," Alex said. It didn't seem like too much to ask for.
Thursday, November 10
Julie bounced all the way to Harvey's. "I hope we can go someplace warm and sunny," she said. "Maybe we should go to Texas and find Carlos."
Alex wanted to warn her not to get her hopes up, but there had been so few moments the past six months where Julie had something to hope for that he couldn't find it in him to discourage her. Besides, maybe finding the lottery ticket on Papi's birthday was a miracle. The Morales family was certainly due for one.
Harvey hadn't gotten his weekly food delivery, and the store was almost empty. "This is it?" Julie asked doubtfully as Alex escorted her.
"It's busier on Fridays," he told her.
"Alex," Harvey said. "Pleasure to see you.
And who might this be?"
"Harvey, this is my sister Julie," Alex said. "Julie, this is Harvey."
Harvey smiled. Alex noticed he'd lost a tooth since he'd seen him last week. He's rotting away, Alex thought, the same as the city.
"We have something," Julie said. "Something valuable. Don't we, Alex."
"Very valuable," Alex said.
"We want to trade it for a way out of New York," Julie said. "For me and Alex and Bri."
"Who's Bri?" Harvey asked.
"My sister," Julie said. "She has asthma, so it's important we go someplace where the air's better and she can get well. Someplace warm and nice. And she can't walk very much, so it has to be easy to get there."
"That's quite the order," Harvey said. "I know the kind of stuff you usually bring in, Alex. Nice things, don't get me wrong, but nothing worth an all-expense-paid trip to paradise."
"Should I show him?" Julie asked, but before Alex had a chance to say yes or no, she pulled the lottery ticket out of her pocket and waved it around. "It's an instant lottery ticket worth ten thousand dollars!" she cried. "Is that valuable enough?"
Harvey took the ticket from Julie's hand. He looked it over carefully, then put it on the counter.
"It must be worth something," Alex said. "What do you think you could get for it?"
Harvey laughed. "Six months ago, it would have been worth ten thousand," he said. "Maybe even five months ago. But now, it's not worth the paper it's printed on."
"Why?" Julie said. "It's a winning lottery ticket. New York has to pay."
"Sweetheart, New York don't care," Harvey said. "You understand, Alex. No one's using money anymore. It's all food and gas and connections."
"Someone must want it," Julie pleaded. "We don't want real money for it. Just a safe way out of New York."
"You can still get out of the city," Harvey said. "They're still evacuating."
"It isn't the getting out that's the problem," Alex said, although he knew that was only partly true. "It's going someplace safe, where Bri can get medical help."
Harvey shook his head. "That'd take a lot more than a lottery ticket," he said. "There are places like that, but you have to know someone to get in. You have to have the connections."
"Can we get anything for the ticket?" Alex asked. He didn't want to deal with Julie if they left empty-handed.
Harvey looked at the ticket. "You know I like you, Alex. You drive a hard bargain, and I respect that. I don't cheat you. For you, a couple of cans of chicken noodle soup."
"No," Julie said, grabbing the ticket from him. "We'll take the ticket to someone else. Someone who can help."
"Sweetie, there is no one else," Harvey said. "I'm the last of a dying breed. Look, I'll throw in a can of pineapple. That should be a real treat."
Alex thought about the can of pineapple. Bri loved pineapple. "Julie," he said. "Pineapple. It's almost as good as pumpkin pie."
"I hate you!" Julie cried, and ran out of the store.
"Julie," Alex said. "Harvey, I'm sorry. You know girls that age. Everything's a crisis."
"How old is she?" Harvey asked.
"Thirteen," Alex said.
Harvey nodded. "Teenagers," he said. "Look, take the pineapple. It's crazy for me to give anything away nowadays, but if it'll make her feel better, it's worth it."
"Thank you," Alex said, taking the can. "I really appreciate this, Harvey."
"No problem," Harvey said. "See you tomorrow? I'm expecting some good stuff."
Alex thought of the diminishing stock of liquor and sweaters and nodded. "Late morning," he said. "After the food line."
"Best time," Harvey said. "I'll hold something for you."
"I appreciate it," Alex said. "Thanks for the pineapple. And I apologize again for Julie. She had her hopes up."
"Things are tough all over," Harvey said. "Must be real rough having a sick little sister."
"Yeah," Alex said. "Real rough. Thanks again. See you tomorrow." He walked out of the store, but Julie was nowhere to be seen.
Idiota, Alex thought. Storming off. Things didn't go just the way she wanted, and she had to make a big dramatic gesture. He was tempted to go to school and leave her to her own devices. Let her go home and slam the damn bedroom door. Bri could deal with her. Even better, he and Bri could share the pineapple and let Julie miss out. That would show her.
Alex shook his head. Living with a thirteen-year-old was making him think like one. He needed to find Julie. Whether she'd gone to school or home, it was downtown from Harvey's. He'd catch up with her and give her a lecture about running off. Tonight they'd have the pineapple. That would make all of them feel better.
He was so used to the quiet on the streets that at first he didn't recognize the sound when he heard it. The words were muffled, but it was a girl's voice, and it was full of fear.
His first thought was to run, to catch up with the sound, because he knew it was Julie and someone had grabbed her. But what good would it do if he just ran up to them? Whoever had Julie might be armed, and even if he wasn't, Alex wasn't in condition for a street fight. There were no cops around. Hell, there was no one around, just rats and corpses. And someone who'd grabbed his sister.
Alex took off his shoes, so he wouldn't be heard, and began running toward the sounds. He spotted a large man on Ninety-first Street, dragging Julie toward the park while she struggled to break free.
"Let me go!" she yelled.
The man laughed. "Nobody's here," he said. "Stop fighting."
"Alex!" she screamed. "Alex!"
The man laughed even louder.
Alex had crept as close as he dared behind the man.
Julie tried to kick him. "Help!" she cried. "Someone help me!"
"You're pissing me off," the man said. "You're going to pay for that."
Alex figured he had gotten as close as he could without being noticed. He had one shot and he knew his aim had to be perfect, since the man was wearing a heavy winter coat and wouldn't feel a thing from his neck to his feet. David and Goliath, he said to himself, then threw the can of pineapple directly at the back of the man's head. Bull's-eye. The man let go of Julie as he howled in pain.
"Julie, run!" Alex yelled.
Julie turned around and saw him. She began running as fast as she could. The man bent over and grabbed the can of pineapple.
"Next time," he said.
Alex gathered Julie in his arms, and pulled her back to Broadway. The man didn't follow them, but they kept running anyway. By the time they entered their building, they were coughing so hard they had to sit for a few minutes before they could move.
Once they could breathe, Alex grabbed Julie by her shoulders and shook her. "Don't ever do that!" he yelled. "Don't ever go off by yourself!"
"I know. I'm sorry." She sobbed. "Alex, I was so scared. I'll never do it again, I swear. Never."
Alex let her go. His throbbing toes were half frozen. To distract himself from thinking about the agony of walking up twelve flights of stairs, he concentrated on what might have happened to his sister. She was worth the pineapple. She was worth the pain.
"Do me a favor," he said. "Go upstairs and get my other shoes. They're in the hall closet. If Bri's up, tell her..." He tried to come up with a reason why he'd need a different pair of shoes. "Tell her I got dead rat all over my shoes."
"No!" Julie said. "I'm not going into the stairwell alone. I won't."
"No one's in the stairwell," Alex said. "Now, do it."
Julie shook her head. "I won't go in there alone," she said.
Alex's feet throbbed. He told himself to calm down. It would be a mistake to send Julie upstairs anyway. She'd tell Bri everything, and that would bring on an attack, and Julie would run down to get him and he'd still have to climb the twelve flights. He didn't want to think about what might happen if the attack was really bad.
"All right, I'll go," he said. "You wait here."
"No," Julie said. "I'll go upstairs with you. In case he co
mes back."
"Whatever," Alex said. "I don't care. Just keep quiet, and don't ever tell Bri what happened."
Julie nodded. "I won't tell Bri," she promised. "Just don't ever leave me, Alex."
Chapter 14
Friday, November 11
Veterans Day. Alex had forgotten all about it. He and Kevin had gone to the food line only to find out it had been canceled. All he'd been able to get from Harvey was one of the cans of chicken soup and a badly dented can of string beans. And he was down one pair of shoes.
It was impossible to sleep. Alex grabbed the flashlight, got off the sofa bed, and stumbled into the kitchen. They kept everything there, the food and whatever little they still had for bartering. Maybe if he made a list, he'd feel better. Maybe if he searched through every kitchen cabinet, he'd find an unexpected box of something or a can or a five-course dinner tucked away under a spare blanket.
He couldn't even find the spare blanket. Having Bri home meant they'd had to barter almost everything they'd gotten from the other apartments.
Alex thought, not for the first time, how ironic it was that they were living in a sixteen-story building and could only get into four apartments. Five, if you counted their old one. New York City apartments had steel doors and multiple locks, and even though as best he could tell from the lack of sound and the stench of death, everyone was gone and he and his sisters were the only ones living there, they still couldn't get into the deserted apartments.
In spite of himself, he found a piece of paper and a pen and began making a list. Lists no longer comforted him, but he made them anyway when he couldn't sleep. There was no point making a list of what they had, since they didn't have anything. There was no point in making a list of what they would need, since they needed everything. There was no point, but he still made a list.
GONE, he wrote on the top of the paper.
Papi
Mami
Carlos
Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Lorraine and their girls
Chris Flynn
Tony
Alex stared at the list and realized he'd barely scratched the surface. There were Uncle Carlos and Aunt María, Uncle Jose and Aunt Irene, who'd been with Papi in Milagro del Mar for Nana's funeral. All his cousins were gone. So were the priests from Vincent de Paul, the lay teachers, and the rest of the school staff. His onetime friend Danny O'Brien, plus practically everybody else he'd gone to school with. Mr. Dunlap. Bob, who he never had the chance to swap stories with. Joey from the pizza parlor and the guys he worked with there and the customers who made small talk and left small tips. The New York Yankees. He'd been to their stadium more recently than they had, he guessed. St. John of God Hospital, where Mami was so excited to get her first job as an operating room technician. Gone. All gone. There wasn't enough paper left in the world to write down everybody and everything that was gone.
The Dead and the Gone Page 18