“No idea,” Joe said. “Someone on my mother’s side of the family swooped in. They sold it at some point. There was no money in it, though. My uncle was mostly broke. He had borrowed against it. Some of that was medical bills, but it was mostly for me.”
“Was there anyone else around? After the blackout, when you were living there? Other than Robbie, I mean.”
“There was one man, yeah,” Joe said. He felt a sudden rush of memory, colors, sensations, darkness. He had to shake his head to clear it. “We met him the night of the blackout, before we reached my uncle. I haven’t thought about him in years, but . . . he helped us when we were stuck in the city.”
“Helped you? How?”
“We were able to call my uncle at one point. He had a friend who lived in the city and was willing to help. Mike had us meet him at a coffee shop. Things went a little sideways, but . . . in the end, he followed through. He brought me all the way to Staten Island.”
“Okay, so a friend of your uncle’s.”
“Actually, he was more than that. I just didn’t know it then.”
“What was his name?”
“Nate, but that’s all I remember.” He closed his eyes, picturing him again. “Black, about my uncle’s age. Tall, lanky. Great voice, like a DJ. Anyway, he was a godsend. He got me to the ferry and rode with me to the other side, that morning of the fourteenth. The lights were still out, but the ferry was running. God, it was hot.”
“Where was Robbie?” Her brow knitted, she reached for a yellow notepad and began to scribble. “You said, ‘He got me to the ferry.’” Joe wasn’t sure that he had noticed this about her before. She was a marvelous listener.
“Robbie disappeared late that night. We got into a situation and . . .” He trailed off and sighed. “It’s a lot to go into, but Robbie ultimately blamed Nate for it, and he left us in the city. Robbie showed up at my uncle’s a day or two later, but he didn’t stay long.”
“We’ve talked a little about this,” she said. He saw her scribble the name Nate and underline it three times. “Robbie was gone long before your uncle died, right?”
“Yeah. He never accepted Mike as a caretaker, or us as a family. Maybe he didn’t want to let go of Lois, I don’t know. Or maybe he was just pissed off. He broke all of Mike’s rules, and there weren’t many. He turned sixteen that December, and Mike couldn’t control him. After a while he was just gone. We were lucky to see him at holidays.”
Aideen was writing, then stopped and looked up. “So what happened with Nate, the guy who helped you?”
“I have no idea,” Joe said, shaking his head. “He was a friend of my uncle’s, as far as I was told. Then, one day, I just didn’t see him around. I guess I should have known it was more than friendship, that something had broken down between them.”
“Most guys hid being gay then,” she said. “I’m sure your uncle felt he couldn’t tell you.”
“Probably. It wouldn’t have bothered me, though. I hope he knew that.”
“I’ll bet he did.” She wasn’t exactly smiling, but her face was warm and glowing. For a moment he wondered who had body snatched the Aideen he had known for so long.
“So what now?”
She blew out a breath, finished a note, and underlined something a few times. “I keep digging.”
“I’ll never be able to thank you for this,” he said. “I know the money isn’t enough. Not for what you’re doing.”
“The money’s not bad, actually.” She grinned, and the spell seemed to be broken. She was Aideen again. Still, he could see this other oddly hopeful person underneath. “Anyway, don’t worry about me.”
“I do, though. Please don’t let this consume you, Aideen.”
“I need this too.” Her eyes went cold, her jaw firm. “It’s not important why, not for now. But I do. Anyway, I’m more interested in how you’re holding up in here. Where your head is. How you’re doing without alcohol.”
“Better than I expected.” That was true, and he’d expected everything from night sweats to tremors. Nothing like that was happening. It was uncomfortable. He craved the taste. The pleasant burn. The spreading, calming glow of liquor. It was painful to reflect on it sometimes, and his hands shook. It was working, though. It wasn’t like he could walk into a liquor store where he was, but there was alcohol at Rikers, and by now he could have established the connections to get it if he needed it. He didn’t. He was dry, and he was staying that way, at least for now. “Honestly, I’m okay.”