"I'll stay here and look for her," Alex said. "But at least you'll be safe."
Julie shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere without you and Bri."
"You have to," Alex said. "That's an order."
"Order someone else," Julie said. "I'm going back to sleep. It hurts less when I'm sleeping."
Chapter 19
Tuesday, December 27
It was the sound of the refrigerator rumbling back to life that galvanized Alex.
"Come on," he said to Julie. "The electricity's back."
"So?" she said.
"I want you to eat something," he said. "When was the last time you ate?"
"I don't know," Julie replied. "Yesterday, I guess."
"I'm going to heat some water in the microwave to wash with," Alex said. "Then we'll eat something hot while we can."
"And then what?" Julie asked.
"Then we'll go out and look some more for Bri," Alex said.
"How?" Julie said. "You think half a can of beans is going to make you strong again?"
"We'll use the sled," Alex said. "Julie, we can't quit looking. Maybe she got back to St. Margaret's for Christmas. Maybe she got back to the basement."
The voice he'd grown to hate within him said that maybe whoever had taken Bri had disposed of her body somewhere and that was what they really were looking for. He knew Julie was thinking the same thing, but she also knew not to say so.
"Can I clean myself, too?" Julie asked. "Before we go?"
"Good idea," Alex said. "But let's get a move on while there's still electricity. We can take the service elevator to the basement to get the sled."
"Luxury," Julie grumbled, but she left the chair and went with Alex to the kitchen.
Half an hour later, the two of them were as clean as they were ever going to be, and as well fed. There was still some rice, and reheated with the beans, it almost tasted like real food. Alex was tempted to open the can of sardines, but he figured that could wait for a day with no microwave. They needed to be very careful with the little food they had left, in case there were no more food handouts and Vincent de Paul didn't reopen. There was still a chance Julie could get onto the January 9 convoy, if they could both stay alive until then. The possibility that he might die first and then Julie killing herself filled him with terror.
Twelve more days, he told himself. After everything they'd been through, what was twelve more days.
Julie rinsed off the dishes, then put her gloves back on. "I'm ready," she said.
Alex nodded. He felt stronger than he had in days and didn't think he'd need the sled. But if they found Bri on the street, they could carry her home on it. He wouldn't leave her as he'd left Kevin. She belonged at home.
They walked silently down the corridor to the service elevator. Alex pressed the button. He could hear the elevator slowly churning its way up to the twelfth floor.
"That's funny," Julie said. "It should be on twelve. We're the only ones left in the building."
In a flash Alex realized what had happened. "Don't look!" he said to Julie, but it was too late. The elevator doors pulled open, and the all-too-familiar stench of death greeted them before they saw the body of their sister curled up in a ball on the elevator floor.
"Bri?" Julie said, her voice childish and shrill. "Bri, wake up." She bent down by Bri and began to shake her. "Wake up! Wake up!"
"Julie, stop," Alex said. "It's too late."
"It can't be!" Julie cried. "We've got to try harder. Bri! Get up, Bri. Now. Please. Now..."
Alex knelt next to Julie. Bri had been dead for days. By one hand was her inhaler, in the other her rosary beads.
"She died in a state of grace," he said. "That's the best we can really hope for."
"But why?" Julie asked. "Why did she even go to the basement?"
"I don't know," Alex said. He bent over and kissed Bri's cheek. Her eyes were closed. Maybe she'd been asleep when she died, he told himself. Maybe God had proved merciful to someone who loved Him so much.
"I don't understand," Julie persisted, as though understanding would somehow make things right. "Did she die in the elevator? Is that what happened?"
"I guess so," Alex said. "Last Thursday." My birthday, he thought. Bri died on my birthday after thanking God that I was still alive. "She went to the basement for some reason, then took the elevator up, only the electricity went out while she was in it."
Julie turned around to stare at him in horror. "How long did it take?" she asked. "Did she know she was going to die? Was she waiting for us to rescue her?"
"Julie, it doesn't matter," Alex said, although he'd been asking himself the same questions. "Look at her. Look at how peaceful she is. She's in heaven now, with our dolce Virgen María, watching over us."
"She is," Julie said. "I know she is. But she's here, Alex, and I miss her so much I think I'll die."
Alex swallowed hard. "Go back to twelve B," he said. "Get a blanket. No, that quilt Bri liked so much. Bring it back here. We'll wrap her up in it and take her back home."
Julie nodded. She bent over, kissed Bri's hand, then straightened up and left the elevator.
Alex stroked Bri's hair and prayed for strength. He told himself it was better this way. Bri hadn't died at the hands of another, her body carelessly discarded after it had served its purpose. The moon had killed her, not man. He made the sign of the cross and thanked Christ for what Bri had been spared.
Julie came back carrying the quilt. Alex took it from her and wrapped it around Bri.
"We're going to have to take the elevator," he said. "We're not strong enough to carry her down the stairs."
"I know," Julie said. "I've already prayed the electricity will last long enough. It'll be okay."
"It's where she'd want to be," Alex said, his fingers trembling as he pressed the elevator button for the basement. "We'll put her on her bunk bed."
"No, put her on mine," Julie said. "It's higher. It's closer to heaven."
Alex nodded. They rode in silence until they reached the basement and the elevator doors opened. He was uncertain that he'd have the strength to carry Bri by himself, but without his asking, Julie leaned over and helped pick her up. When they got to their home, Alex told Julie to take the keys from his pocket while he held Bri. Then together, they moved her to the girls' bedroom, and lifted her to the upper bed.
Alex left her face uncovered while they prayed. When he thought Julie could handle it, he kissed Bri's eyes, then pulled the quilt over her.
"No," Julie said. "Not yet."
Alex knew he had to give Julie as much time as she needed. "I'm going to the living room," he said. "I'll be there when you're ready."
Julie nodded. Alex left his sisters and went to the living room. He needed the time alone, he realized. He needed to find whatever it was that had made Bri go back to the basement.
Everything looked the same as it had when he'd brought the sled there weeks before. What was it that Bri went for? he asked himself.
He went to Mami and Papi's bedroom, thinking it might be something there, but he found nothing out of order.
Maybe she went to the kitchen, searching for food, he thought. Of course there wasn't any, but maybe she thought they'd left something behind. There was no place else to look, so he might as well check in there.
The cupboards were empty, just as he knew they would be. Alex glanced over the counter and saw the note he'd left.
His entire body began to shake as he picked it up. On the top of the paper, it said that they were living in 12B. But the rest of the paper was overflowing with Bri's handwriting.
Dear Mami and Papi,
I'm so happy you're home. Every day I've prayed for you.
Alex sent me to a convent this summer, and even though the sisters were very kind, I prayed day and night that I could go home. Santa María, Madre de Dios, answered my prayers.
Two weeks ago, Alex said we had to leave New York. Don't ever tell him, but I prayed even harder that we wouldn't have to go and
the Holy Virgin kept the bus from leaving.
I know in my heart that God let us stay in New York so we'd be here when you came home. It will be His Christmas gift to us.
You'll be so proud of Alex and Julie. They've been wonderful to me. Alex was sick, but he's getting better now. When he and Julie see you, they'll believe once again in God's mercy, and love Him as I do.
Your loving daughter,
Briana
P.S. It's okay that we're staying in 12B. Mr. Dunlap said we could.
Alex stared at the piece of paper in horror. Bri had died because she'd refused to believe Mami and Papi were dead. If she hadn't written the note, she could have gotten back to the building, taken the elevator up to twelve, and been in their apartment before the electricity went out. Her delusions had led to her death.
But was he any better? Until that moment, until seeing Bri's body and reading her final words, hadn't he held out hope that Mami or Papi would somehow miraculously return? He had never told Bri otherwise because he had never been able to accept that their parents really were both dead. Bri's false belief had been his also. She just believed it more.
Bri was gone now. No, she was dead. Dead like Kevin. Dead like Mami and Papi. But Julie was still alive and there had to be a way to save her. Christ, in His mercy, couldn't possibly condemn Julie to death just because her older brother was stubborn and stupid.
Alex folded Bri's note, unable to part with it. He was putting it in his coat pocket as Julie came out of the bedroom. "I left that postcard with her," she said.
"What postcard?" Alex asked.
"The one of the painting," Julie said. "Starry Night. I had to look for it, but I found it and left it by her side. Do you think that's okay? She really loved it."
"I think that was a very good idea," Alex said. "You were smart to think of it."
Julie looked at him. "Will we be safe on the elevator?" she asked.
Alex knew there was no place on earth that they would be safe. "Yeah, sure," he said. "But we'd better get going. Are you ready?"
Julie nodded. "She'll be all right here?" she asked.
"She'll be all right," Alex said. "Mami and Papi will look out for her."
Wednesday, December 28
He slept fitfully and whenever he awoke, he heard Julie sobbing in the bedroom she'd shared with Bri. He was glad she still knew how to cry, and he made no effort to comfort her.
Eventually he got off the sofa bed and went into the kitchen to check on their supplies. A couple of cups of cooked rice, two cans of red beans, one of spinach, one of mixed vegetables, and the sardines. He remembered a time when that wouldn't have been enough food for him for a single day.
I was so spoiled, he thought. I had so much and I didn't appreciate it. I always wanted more.
It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting Julie to a safe place. If he succeeded at that, he could die knowing he'd done one thing right and that would be enough.
He knew he had to leave a note for Julie, but just putting pen to paper made him shake. He forced himself to stop thinking of Bri's final moments, and wrote, "I've gone to St. Margaret's about a Mass for Bri."
There was so much else he wanted to put in the note, but there was no point. Instead he went to the bedroom to check on his sister. She'd finally fallen asleep, he was relieved to see. She might even sleep through his time away. When he got back, he'd make sure she ate.
He walked down the twelve flights slowly, not wanting to waste more strength than he had. Neither he nor Julie had felt like eating after they'd gotten back the day before, so it was close to twenty-four hours since he'd last had food. He was pretty sure he was over the flu, but he knew it wouldn't take much for him to collapse.
Julie's all that matters, he told himself as he walked to St. Margaret's. Carlos might be alive, but there was no way of knowing. Julie was alive and she was tough and strong and she deserved to live. Father Franco would surely see that and help Alex find a way to save her.
But when he got to St. Margaret's, Alex found a sign on the door.
ST. MARGARET'S IS NOW CLOSED
DOMINUS VOBISCUM
In spite of the sign, Alex tried opening the door, but it was bolted shut. He walked to the side door and tried that one with no luck. The church was deserted. Father Franco had told him that would happen, but Alex had never quite believed him.
Not knowing where else to go, Alex began the walk to Vincent de Paul. He'd long since given up believing in miracles, but he prayed that the chapel would be open and he'd at least be able to light a candle for Bri.
The walk was long and hard, and Alex was almost surprised that the tears he shed didn't freeze on his cheeks. His lungs ached from the ash in the air, and his mind filled with pictures of Bri trapped in the elevator, dying slowly and alone.
Not Julie, he repeated. I won't let Julie die also.
There was no sign on the door of Vincent de Paul, not even one about the quarantine. Alex turned the knob and the door opened.
He entered the school. He heard nothing and saw nobody. But the door to the chapel was open. He walked in, found it empty, also, genuflected before the cross, then went to the pew in the section for seniors, knelt, and began to pray. He begged the Lord's mercy and forgiveness, prayed for the souls of all he loved and for Christ to find it in His heart to let Julie live.
"Alex?"
Alex turned around and saw Sister Rita standing in the doorway.
"Alex, is that really you? I thought you and your sisters had gone."
For a moment Alex was confused. Then he remembered the note he'd left Father Mulrooney to let him know they were leaving.
"No," he said. "We never got to go."
"Are you all right?" Sister Rita asked. "How are Briana and Julie?"
"Bri died," Alex said. "St. Margaret's is closed. I didn't know where else to go."
"Bri?" Sister Rita said. "Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry. I had her in eighth-grade English. She was a lovely girl."
Alex thought of Bri in eighth grade, but couldn't make himself speak.
"Is Julie all right?" Sister Rita asked.
Alex nodded.
"Thank Christ," Sister Rita said. "Come with me, Alex. We'll talk to Father Mulrooney."
Alex followed her out of the chapel to the father's office. Father Mulrooney was sitting at his desk, silently praying. They waited until he was finished and then Sister Rita knocked on the door to get his attention.
"Mr. Morales?" Father Mulrooney said. "We thought you were gone."
"I know," Alex said. "We tried to go, but the convoy didn't leave because of the quarantine."
"How are your sisters?" Father Mulrooney asked.
"Julie's all right," Alex said. "Bri died because of me."
"Sit down," Father Mulrooney said. "How are you responsible for your sister's death, Alex?"
Alex told them the whole story. He remembered when he'd asked Father Mulrooney to hear his confession because he'd felt Father Franco would be too soft on him. He knew there was no penance Father Mulrooney could demand that would ease the guilt he felt, but he didn't care. It was better that Father Mulrooney and Sister Rita see how inadequate he was. They'd be more likely to be merciful to Julie that way.
When he finished, Father Mulrooney cleared his throat. "I don't know what to say," he began.
"May I say something?" Sister Rita asked. "If you don't mind, Father."
"Please," Father Mulrooney replied.
Sister Rita turned to Alex. He'd forgotten how kind her eyes were. "I know you feel responsible for Briana's death," she said. "You feel you should have acknowledged your parents' deaths, and forced Bri to do so. If you had, she wouldn't have been so foolhardy and she'd still be alive. That's it, isn't it?"
Alex choked back a sob and nodded.
"I think it was that very faith that kept Bri alive for so long," Sister Rita said. "If she hadn't had that, then all the sacrifices you made for her, all the care and protection you gave her, wouldn't hav
e been enough. Bri needed to believe her parents would come back. And you loved her enough and respected her enough not to kill her hope, or your own. If she'd known you'd given up, she might have also, and that would have destroyed her."
"Would it really have mattered?" Alex asked. "She suffered so much the past few months."
"She kept you alive," Sister Rita replied. "Julie couldn't have done that alone. Your life is Bri's gift to you." She took Alex's hand and held it between her own. "She was lucky to have you for a brother," she said. "She knew it and you should, too."
He couldn't stop crying. He felt like a fool, a baby, but the tears knew no end.
"Enough," Father Mulrooney finally said. "I suppose you don't have a clean handkerchief on you, Mr. Morales."
In spite of himself, Alex laughed.
"Neither do I, as it happens," Father Mulrooney said. "Very well, use your sleeve, but wipe your nose dry. We have decisions to make."
Alex did as he was told. "I need to find a safe place for Julie," he said.
"Not just for Julie," Father Mulrooney said. "For yourself also Mr. Morales."
"I don't matter," Alex replied. "Just Julie."
Father Mulrooney shook his head with fierce disapproval. "How old are you, Mr. Morales?" he asked.
"Eighteen," Alex said.
"In the forty years I taught at St. Vincent de Paul Academy, I never once encountered an eighteen-year-old saint," Father Mulrooney declared. "And I sincerely doubt that I have now. Sister Rita, when is the bus coming to get you? Tomorrow afternoon?"
"At one," Sister Rita replied. "Although we shouldn't count on it being on time."
"What bus?" Alex asked.
"I believe it's the last one, too," Father Mulrooney said. "Your timing, Mr. Morales, is impeccable. I cannot say the same about your appearance."
"Father Mulrooney," Sister Rita said.
"You're right," Father Mulrooney said. "The question is under what guise should the young Moraleses take the bus."
Alex took a deep breath. "What bus?" he said. "Isn't there a quarantine?"
"The flu is everywhere," Father Mulrooney replied. "There's no point in a quarantine if the entire world is ill."