All These Things I've Done

  “Abilities?” I repeated. “What do you know of Leo’s abilities?”

  “Maybe you’re too close to see it, but your brother’s not the same kid who got hurt all those years ago. You got him cooped up half the day with the old lady and the other half the day at that dumb animal job.” He pointed to Leo, who was dancing with the same sleazy girls. “He’s thriving here. Someone needs to air the kid out once in a while.”

  Maybe he was right, but it still didn’t explain what Jacks gained by helping Leo. I decided to put it to him point-blank. “So, what’s in it for you?”

  “Like I said, I’d do anything for your old man.”

  “Daddy’s dead,” I reminded him. “Helping Leonyd’s son’s not gonna buy you any favors.”

  “Real cynic, you. Actually, Annie, helping your brother does buy me something. It makes me look better to the other men in the family. Maybe the connection to your father puts a little residual shine on me, too. God knows I could use that.”

  He was finally making sense. “All right.”

  “There’s a good little girl,” Jacks said, looking me up and down. “You ain’t so little anymore, cousin.”

  “Thanks for noticing.” I turned to find my brother. At that moment, an alarm wailed. Lights began to flash, and an official-sounding voice blared through a bullhorn: “Everyone out! This establishment is being shut down by order of the New York Police Department and the New York City Department of Health. Patrons must evacuate now! Stragglers will be arrested!”

  “Someone must not have paid off the right person,” Jacks said to me. “Wasn’t like this when Big Leo ran New York.”

  I went to find (Little) Leo but I couldn’t find him anywhere and the momentum of the crowd began pushing me toward the exit. It was move or be trampled. I lost Jacks, which was fine with me, and I didn’t see Scarlet or Win either.

  Finally, I was outside on the steps where I could breathe again. I took a second to clear my head before looking for Leo. Someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was one of the slutty girls Leo had been dancing with. Outdoors in the night, she looked more innocent though. “You’re the sister, right?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “Something’s wrong with your brother.”

  V.

  i regret having gone to little egypt

  SHE LED ME ACROSS THE steps to the south side of the building, not far from where Natty had been held up a scant four days prior. My brother was writhing on the ground like an insect under a magnifying glass on a sunny day.

  “What’s wrong with him?” the slutty girl asked. Her voice sounded a bit repulsed, and the only thing that stopped me from shoving her was that she had, at least, been decent enough to come and find me.

  “It’s just a seizure,” I said. I was about to yell at someone to please protect his head from hitting the unforgiving marble stairs when I noticed someone already was.

  Win held Leo’s head in his lap. “I know it’s not ideal,” Win said when he saw me. “But we couldn’t get him to a softer surface, and I didn’t want him to bang his head.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Scarlet spotted him,” Win told me. “She’s looking for you right now.”

  I thanked him again.

  I took my brother’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m here,” I said. I looked into his eyes. The convulsions had stopped, which meant it was over. He’d had seizures on and off since the accident though it had been a fairly long time since his last one. I was guessing the blinking lights or the loud music had set it off this time. “You’re fine.”

  Leo nodded but he didn’t look convinced.

  “Can you walk?” Win asked him.

  “Yes,” Leo replied. “I think so.”

  Win introduced himself as he helped Leo to his feet. “I’m Win. I go to school with Anya.”

  “Leo.”

  Scarlet rejoined us. “Oh God, Annie, I was looking everywhere for you! I’m so glad you found us!” Scarlet threw her arms around Leo. “I was so worried about you,” she said to my brother. There were tears in her eyes.

  “Don’t worry. I’m fine,” Leo said to Scarlet. I could tell Leo was embarrassed that Scarlet had seen him that way. “It’s nothing.”

  “Well, it sure didn’t look like nothing,” Scarlet said. “Poor Leo.”

  “We should get moving,” Win said.

  He was right. There were cops everywhere and curfew was approaching. Best to be on our way.

  Leo’s gait was a bit wobbly so Scarlet stood on one side of him, clutching his arm, and Win on the other. I walked behind them. The slutty girl was nowhere to be found. Same with Jacks.

  Our little caravan was slow and unsteady, and the trip back to the apartment took considerably longer than the trip there. By the time we got back, it was past city curfew, so Win had to call his parents to let them know he was spending the night at my place.

  Scarlet went to the bathroom to deal with a few fairly intense blisters from her shoes, and I went to put Leo to bed. I helped him change out of his clothes, which were soiled from the seizure, and into his pajamas.

  “Good night,” I said, kissing my brother on the forehead. “I love you, Leo.”

  “You don’t think Scarlet saw?” Leo asked as I turned off the light.

  “Saw what?” I asked.

  “That I … peed.”

  “No. I doubt she noticed. And it wasn’t your fault. And even if she did, she loves you, Leo.”

  Leo nodded. “I’m sorry if I ruined your night, Annie.”

  “Please,” I said. “My night was awful before you even entered the picture. You made things more interesting.”

  I popped my head into Natty’s room. Even though she was twelve, she still looked like a baby when she slept.

  I went into the bathroom, where Scarlet was applying a bandage to one of her blisters. “Before you even say anything, Miss Balanchine, it was totally worth it,” Scarlet said. “I looked completely amazing.”

  “You did,” I agreed. “Why don’t you bring some blankets out to Win in the living room?” I suggested.

  Scarlet smiled. “That boy,” she said in a strange, vaguely Spanish accent. “He is not for me.”

  “But you do both like hats,” I said.

  “I know.” She sighed. “And he is adorable. But, alas, no”—she returned to her weird accent—“how you say? No chemistry, senorita.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  She switched to French. “C’est la vie. C’est l’amour.” She removed her makeup with a cloth. “You should bring out the blankets, Anya.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “I’m saying that I won’t mind if you bring the blankets to Win.”

  “I’m not into him,” I protested, “if that’s what ‘bring the blankets’ means.”

  Scarlet kissed me on the cheek. “Well, I don’t know where you keep the bedclothes anyway.”

  I went to the hallway and took an extra set of linens out of the closet for Win.

  In the living room, he had taken off his dress shirt but was still wearing his pants and a plain white undershirt.

  “Thank you again,” I said to him.

  “Is your brother okay?” Win asked.

  I nodded. “Embarrassed mainly.” I set the linens on the couch. “These are for you. Bathroom’s in the hallway. Second door after my room and before Natty’s and Leo’s but if you hit my dying grandmother’s room, you’ll definitely know you’ve gone too far. Kitchen’s right over there but it’s basically empty. You’re here on a Friday, and I can only bring myself to haggle for rationed products on the weekend. Well, good night.”

  He sat down on the couch and his face was illuminated by the table lamp. I could see he had a red mark on his cheek that would likely be black-and-blue by the next day. “Oh no! Did Leo do that?”

  He touched his cheek. “He elbowed me, I think, while he was having his—it’s a grand mal seizure, right?”

  I nodded.


  “My sister used to have seizures, too,” he said. “So, right. The elbow. It didn’t hurt very much when Leo did it, so I was hoping there wouldn’t be a mark.”

  “I should get you ice.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “No, the mark’ll be less,” I insisted. “Wait here.”

  I went into the kitchen and took a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer, which I brought to him in the living room. He thanked me and pressed the bag against his cheek. “Stay a minute. I can’t go to sleep while I’m holding these peas to my face.”

  I sat down in the overstuffed crimson velvet chair that was next to the sofa. I wrapped my arms around a turquoise chinoiserie pillow—my shield, I suppose. “Bet you’re sorry you ever came out with us,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Not exactly.” He paused to rearrange the peas a bit. “Seems to me there’s always something interesting happening whenever you’re around.”

  “Yeah. I’m trouble.”

  “I don’t believe that. You’re just a girl with a heck of a lot on her plate.”

  The way he said it was so sweet, I almost believed him. I certainly wanted to believe him. “Before. You mentioned your sister used to have seizures. Did she ever stop having them?”

  “Yes.” He paused. “She died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He waved his hand. “Long time ago. I’m sure you’ve got a whole novel’s worth of sad stories, too.”

  Of course, nobody was much interested in novels back then. I stood up and set the pillow back on the chair. “Good night, Win.”

  “Night, Anya.”

  Around 5:00 a.m., I woke to the sound of screams. I never allowed myself to sleep very deeply, so it only took me a second to figure out that the screams were down the hall and coming from my sister.

  When I turned on the light, Scarlet was sitting upright in her sleeping bag. Her eyes were drowsy and terrified.

  “It’s just Natty. She’s probably having another one of her nightmares,” I told Scarlet as I got out of bed.

  “Poor Natty. Do you want me to come with you?”

  I shook my head. I was used to handling Natty’s bad dreams. Natty had been having them since Daddy’s death nearly seven years ago.

  Win was in the hallway. “Can I help?”

  “No,” I told him. “Go back to bed.” I was annoyed that he was there at all. People knowing your private business gave them power over you.

  I went into Natty’s room, shutting the door on Win.

  I sat down on Natty’s bed. She was tangled in the sheets and sweaty. The screams were weaker now, but she still hadn’t woken up. “Shhhhh,” I said. “It’s only a bad dream.”

  Natty opened her eyes and immediately started to cry. “But, Annie, it felt so real.”

  “Was it about Daddy?” Natty’s typical nightmare centered on the night Daddy had been killed. It had happened in this same apartment, and we had both been home at the time. She had only been five years old; me, nine. Leo had been at boarding school, something for which I am very grateful. One person shouldn’t have to be an eyewitness to the murder of both parents.

  The killers came while Daddy was working. Not only had Natty and I been home, we’d been in the room with him. No one saw us because we’d been playing at Daddy’s feet, concealed by the frame of his massive mahogany desk. He heard the intruders before he saw them. Daddy tilted his head toward us ever so slightly and put his finger to his lips. “Don’t move” had been his last words, right before he was shot in the head. Even though I was still a child I knew enough to clamp my hand over Natty’s mouth so that no one could hear her sobs. And though no one was there to clamp a hand over my own mouth, I didn’t cry either.

  They shot Daddy once in the head and three times in the chest and then they ran out of the house. From my position under the desk, I didn’t see who did it, and the police still consider the crime unsolved. Not that they investigated it very much. I mean, Daddy had been a notorious crime boss—from their point of view, his murder was only a matter of time, an occupational hazard, et cetera. On some level, maybe they even thought the murderers had done them a favor.

  “Was it about Daddy?” I repeated.

  She looked at me with haunted eyes. “No, it was about you.”

  I laughed. “You might as well tell me about it. You’ll feel better saying it out loud and then I’ll be able to tell you how silly you’re being.”

  “It was like the night Daddy was killed,” she said. “I was under the desk when I heard the intruders come in. But then I noticed that you weren’t with me. And I started looking everywhere for you—”

  I interrupted her. “That’s easy. It’s a metaphor. You’re scared of being alone. You’re probably having anxiety about me going to college. But I already told you, there’s no way I’ll leave New York, so you shouldn’t worry about that.”

  “No! You didn’t listen to the rest. Just as the intruders come in, I look up and you’re seated in Daddy’s chair. You’re Daddy! And then I watch as they shoot you in the head.” She began to cry again. “It was so awful, Annie. I saw you die. I saw you die.”

  “That’s never going to happen, Natty,” I said. “Not that way, at least. What did Daddy always tell us?”

  “Daddy said a lot of stuff.” Natty sniffled.

  I rolled my eyes. “What did Daddy always tell us about why we would be safe?”

  “He said that no one touches the families.”

  “That’s right,” I told her.

  “But what about what happened to Mom and Leo?” Natty asked.

  “That was a mistake. The hit was meant for Daddy. Mom and Leo were just in the way. Besides, all the people who planned it are gone.”

  “But—”

  “Natty, it would never happen like that today. No one is trying to kill any of us because none of us is actively involved in the family business anymore. There’s no reason to bother with us. You’re being ridiculous!”

  Natty thought about what I’d said. Her brow furrowed and she pulled her lip up to her nose. “Yes, I guess you’re right. I feel sort of silly now.”

  Natty lay down in bed and I pulled the sheet up to her chin.

  “Did you have a good time with Win?” Natty asked.

  “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” I lowered my voice. “He’s still here.”

  “Annie!” Her eyes grew wide and delighted.

  “It’s a long story and probably a lot less exciting than the one I suspect you’re concocting, Natty. He’s only using our couch.”

  I was just about to turn off the light and leave when Natty called to me. “I hope Win didn’t hear me screaming,” she said. “He’ll think I’m such a baby.”

  I promised her I’d explain without telling him too much of our business, and Natty smiled. “Incidentally, you’re not a baby because you have nightmares, Natty. Something terrible happened to you when you were little, and that’s why you have them. It isn’t your fault.”

  “You never have them,” she pointed out.

  “No, I go around pouring spaghetti sauce over boys’ heads,” I said.

  Natty laughed. “Good night, brave Anya.”

  “Sweet dreams, Natty.” I blew her a kiss, then closed her door.

  I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. When I was in kindergarten, the teachers had taught us this incredibly lame water-conservation song called “Think Before You Drink,” and I guess it stuck with me because to this day, I couldn’t run a tap without mentally calculating the cost of eight ounces. Lately, I’d been thinking of that song a lot because, as the person who was responsible for our housekeeping budget, I’d noticed that the per-milliliter rate had begun to creep up with each monthly bill. Daddy had left us with plenty of money, but I still tried to keep track of such things.

  I finished the first glass then had another. Thank God water wasn’t a rationed commodity. I was desperately thirsty and, although I’d tried to play it off as nothin
g, Natty’s dream had left me uneasy.

  There were two things I didn’t tell Natty.

  First, I would kill anyone who tried to hurt her or Leo.

  And second, I wasn’t brave. I had bad dreams, too. More nights with than without. Unlike Natty, I had mastered the art of screaming inside my head.

  Out in the living room, I could hear Win stirring. “Sorry we’re all so noisy,” I called.

  Win came into the kitchen. “Not a problem,” he said. “Curfew lifts at six so I can start heading home soon anyhow.”

  In the predawn light, I could see that his cheek was pretty swollen from where Leo had elbowed him. “Your poor face!” I exclaimed.

  He looked at his reflection in our chrome toaster. “My dad’s gonna think I was fighting.” He smiled.

  “Will he be mad?”

  “He’ll probably find the whole thing character-building or some such,” he replied. “He thinks I’m too soft.”

  “Are you?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m not my father, that’s for sure.” He paused, then continued. “Wouldn’t want to be.”

  The oven clock turned to 6:00. “I’ll walk you out,” I said.

  At the door, there was an awkwardness between us and I didn’t quite know how to say goodbye. He had seen too much and knew too much about me. There were kids I’d gone to school with for years who knew less about my personal life. I’d dated Gable for close to nine months, and he hadn’t known a thing about Leo’s seizures or Natty’s nightmares. He wouldn’t have wanted to know either—in a way, disinterestedness was one of Gable’s best qualities.

  “What is it?” Win asked.

  I decided to tell the truth. “You know too much about me.”

  “Hmm,” he said. “The smart thing to do would probably be to have me killed.”

  I laughed. You might think that sort of kidding would offend me, but from Win, it didn’t. In a way, it was worse when my background went unacknowledged. “No,” I told him, “my dad would have considered that move to be premature. He would have told me to wait and see if you’re trustworthy first.”