Free The Dead And The Gone by Susan Beth Pfeffer Page B

the most, he had acted like the worst kind of bully.
    He gave his sisters a couple of minutes to yell and cry and do whatever it was they did in the privacy of their room, and then he knocked on their door. Not waiting for permission, he entered.
    Julie sat on the upper bunk bed, her cheek still red from Alex’s hand. Bri stood by her side.
    Alex tried to imagine Papi apologizing but couldn’t. Maybe to Mami, but never to one of his children.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have hit you.”
    Julie turned her head away from him.
    “Where are they?” Bri asked. “Why haven’t we heard from them?”
    “I don’t know,” Alex said. “I don’t, I swear.”
    “Have you even tried to find them?” Julie demanded.
    “Yes, of course,” Alex said, shuddering at the memory of the rows of bodies at Yankee Stadium. “They’re just gone. I’m not saying they’re dead. But I don’t think we should count on them ever coming back.”
    “No!” Bri cried. “I don’t believe that. I won’t. I spoke to Papi. He was alive. He said Puerto Rico. I heard him!” She began to weep.
    “Look,” Alex said, feeling helpless and alone. “Bri, even if that was Papi, he can’t get out of Puerto Rico. Planes aren’t flying anymore. And the phones aren’t working there. I’ve tried every day, first thing in the morning and last thing at night, and I can’t get through. Maybe you’re right and you did talk to Papi, but we can’t count on him coming home. Not for a long time.”
    “What about Mami?” Julie asked. “Why isn’t she home?”
    “The subways flooded that night,” Alex said. “I called the hospital days ago, and they didn’t know if she was there. I think if she was, she would have called us, but I don’t know for sure. I have looked, Julie. I took a bus to Yankee Stadium on Thursday and looked at hundreds of bodies there, but none of them was Mami.”
    “Then she must be alive.” Bri sobbed.
    “Maybe,” Alex said. “But I think she’d call if she was all right.”
    “So we’re alone,” Julie said.
    Alex nodded. “When Carlos calls next, we’ll tell him,” he said. “Maybe the Marines will let him come home. But until then, it’s just the three of us. So we have to pull together. We have to act the way Mami and Papi would expect us to. We have to go to school and keep the place neat and attend Mass. But I swear, I’ll never hit you again, Julie. Never.”
    Julie turned around to face him. “What’s going to become of us?” she asked. “What if social services finds out about us? Can we stay here if Papi isn’t here? Do we have enough money? Who’s going to take care of us?”
    “We’ll take care of ourselves,” Alex said. “We’ve been doing a pretty good job of it up till now. No one cares enough to report us to social services, and I think we can stay here for a while longer before anybody notices. I don’t know what we’ll do about money, but we still have food. I guess if things get really bad, we’ll move in with Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Lorraine.” He grabbed a box of tissues and handed it to Bri. “Any more questions?” he asked.
    “I’m sorry about what I said,” Julie said. “I just miss them so much.”
    “I know,” Alex said. “I pray for them all the time.” And for us, he thought.
    Bri blew her nose, then tossed the wad of tissues into the wastebasket.
“La madre
will hear us,” she said. She took her rosary beads she kept next to the statue of the Virgin on top of the chest of drawers, then knelt in prayer.
    I’m sorry,
Alex mouthed to Julie, but if she saw him, she didn’t acknowledge it. He left the room and went into his own.
    “Graceful and loving Mother, hear our prayers,” he whispered, hoping she could hear him over the din of lost souls.
     
    Wednesday, June 1
    As Alex stood in front of his locker trying to decide what books to take home with him, he felt a tap on his shoulder. His immediate response was that unnerving mix of anger