Aronowitz & Sons had shuttered long before. Carney had dropped by to say hi once—he hadn’t needed the man’s services in years—and a TV shop had taken its place. electric city. Purple neon lightning bolts for emphasis, blinking. The new owner, a fast-talking man with a honking Bronx accent, had assumed Aronowitz’s lease but had no information on where he’d gone after he handed over the keys. “He didn’t look that healthy,” the man said.
“He never did,” Carney said.
Carney gave the WTC site one last look. The next time he was here it’d be something totally different. That’s how it worked.
He headed for the train. He had to have a quick chat with his rare-gem connection, telephone out of the question. The man’s office was on Ninetieth off Second and the subways were a mess today, water main explosion on the East Side.
Then it was off to meet Elizabeth. There was an open house for a place on Strivers’ Row and he wanted to take a look. Distress sale. Riverside Drive was nice, but it was hard to turn down a chance at Strivers’ Row. If you could swing it. It was such a pretty block and on certain nights when it was cool and quiet it was as if you didn’t live in the city at all.
about the author
Colson Whitehead is the author of ten books of fiction and nonfiction, including the Pulitzer Prize–winning novels The Underground Railroad and The Nickel Boys. A recipient of MacArthur and Guggenheim fellowships, he lives in New York City.