Of course with his family. He’s not even seventeen yet. Where’s he going to go on his own? And if you say, “In my day we . . .”
“With his family.”
“Tell him I said bye.”
“Right. I will.”
Raymond grabbed up his book backpack from the hall on his way to the door. Slung one of its straps over his shoulder. He threw the door wide, and almost bowled Andre down on his way out. He grabbed one of his friend’s arms to keep him from tipping over backward. When he was sure Andre had steadied himself, Raymond let go, and they just stood that way a moment. Even though they both knew they were late.
“Oh,” Raymond said. He looked down at his friend, who was a good two heads shorter. “You’re here.”
“Thought you forgot all about me, man.”
“Nah. Sorry. I was trying to get lunch money from you-know-who.”
They ran down the stairs together, taking them two at a time.
“Don’t tell me,” Andre said. “Let me guess. He made you a sandwich.”
“Right.”
“Like, one that’s hardly anything to eat at all.”
“Pretty much.”
They touched down on the third-floor landing. Gripped the railing to spin a tight turn. Hit the stairs going down again.
“And then he told you that when he was sixteen, he worked a job.”
Raymond felt himself smile. It stood out to him, because it was something he didn’t feel often. At first he liked the feeling. Then it hit him how much he would miss Andre when he was gone.
They descended toward the second floor in silence.
Raymond was having that experience of feeling his physical self from the inside. That was the only way he knew how to describe it. Sometimes he was bizarrely aware of feeling too tall. Other times he thought he could feel his Adam’s apple protrude. Or he couldn’t take his mental eye off the slump of his own shoulders. Or he was so aware of his own facial expression—the set of his lips, for example—that it almost felt as though he were viewing himself from the outside.
All the way down to the second floor it felt like all of the above, plus a sadness in his eyes. It was always an uncomfortable sensation, because he never liked any of what he could feel.
As they spun on the second-floor landing, Raymond heard an older woman’s voice call out to them.
“Hello?”
Raymond stopped in his tracks. Andre kept going.
Raymond looked down the hall to see an old woman standing in the doorway of her apartment. A very old woman. Raymond thought she looked ninety. She was wearing a faded housedress printed with flowers. White terry-cloth slippers. Her snow-white hair was pulled back into a braid. Her eyes seemed to be turned in the direction of the stairs, as though she was looking at him. But she wasn’t. Not really. There was no focus there. She seemed not to see him, even though he was standing right in her line of vision.
It gave Raymond a creepy feeling. As if something wasn’t right in the old woman’s head.
Andre turned around and came back to get him. He grabbed the cuff of Raymond’s long-sleeved tee. “C’mon, man.”
“Hello?” the old woman said again, as though she couldn’t decide if there was someone right in front of her or not.
Yeah. Something not right.
“Just. Keep. Walking,” Andre whispered.
“Is someone still there?” the old woman asked.
“Yeah. It’s Raymond. Jaffe. From the fourth floor?”
Andre dropped his face into his hands and sighed.
“Do you know Luis Velez?” she asked. “Have you seen him?”
“Nah. I mean . . . no, ma’am. I don’t know him.”
“Oh,” she said. “Oh dear.”
Andre grabbed his arm and pulled hard. “Come on, man. We’re late.”
It broke Raymond out of his trance, and he moved again.
“Sorry,” he called over his shoulder as he and Andre trotted down to the lobby together.
“What d’you think that was all about?” Andre asked as they spilled out into the cold, gray morning. Down the apartment-house steps to the street.
“Don’t know.”
“I think she’s crazy.”
“Why do you think that?” Raymond asked, wanting to defend her for reasons he could not have explained. Or even identified.
“Those eyes. What was with those eyes? I mean, we’re either right in front of her or we’re not. You know?”
“Yeah,” Raymond said. “I noticed that, too. I guess that was a little strange.”