“No.”
“Friend at least?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I told you. I’ve made some new friends.”
“Yeah. I guess you did tell me that. But you’ve been gone so much.”
She crossed the room in his direction, looking at something in the vicinity of his neck. “Hey. What’s this?”
She grabbed the heavy chain around his neck and pulled hard. It must have been visible above the neck of his T-shirt. A second later she was holding the Saint Jude medal in her hand.
“If you don’t mind,” he said, pulling it back again. “That’s mine.”
He stuffed it back under his shirt.
“Did you go and get religion on me, baby?”
“No!” he said. As if being accused of a transgression.
“I’m not saying it’s bad if you did.”
“I know. But I didn’t. Somebody just gave it to me, that’s all. She’s got religion. But that doesn’t mean I do.”
“Ah,” she said, a smile breaking. “A young lady. That explains a lot.” Then she took his chin firmly in her hand, hurting him with her long fingernails. He chose not to let on. “But next time call!”
“How am I supposed to call when you won’t get me a cell phone?” Then he could see by her face that he’d made a mistake. “Sorry,” he said. “I will. I should have. I’m sorry.”
“Ed’s not made of money,” she said, her voice tight.
Really? I had no idea. He’s never brought it up.
As if.
“I know. But Dad would get me one.”
“And you know why I don’t want him to.”
“Yeah. I know. Ed gets upset when Dad gets me nice things. He feels like Dad’s lording it over him how much more money he’s got.”
That seemed to send their conversation into a dead-end street. No one knew quite where to go from there. The only option seemed to be backtracking. Retreat.
“You sure you’re not hungry? You could have a snack at least.”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” he said. He realized as he heard it come out of his mouth that he had learned the phrase from Mrs. G. Or something very much like it, at least. “But thanks. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
She sighed and walked out of the room, leaving him alone.
The truth was that he hadn’t bothered to call because he didn’t think anyone would notice or care.
It was a comfort to be wrong on that score.
Chapter Eight
* * *
What Happened
It was the time of day when Raymond should have been in his last-period study hall. Instead he had slipped out of school early and gone to the doors of the two Luis Velez addresses he had tried before, but still had not managed to cross off his list. The hash-marked addresses. The “no answers.”
He dreaded the addresses down the list, because they would take him to places like Flushing and Newark and Bridgeport and Bay Shore on Long Island. He was postponing these longer trips until he had no closer options.
Luis Rodrigo Velez had been home this time. But he hadn’t exactly answered the door. Just yelled through it that he was not the one.
Luis M. Velez still was not home.
Raymond was sitting on an elevated train through the Bronx, most of the way to the Fordham University area—his father’s alma mater—when he realized that the next name on his list was also Luis M. Velez. He wondered if that was coincidence, or if they were the same person. Maybe he had moved, and that’s why he was never home at the Manhattan address. Still, you would think someone would be. The next person to occupy the apartment at least.
Raymond leaned over and glanced at the watch of a man sitting near him on the bench seat, and the man gathered himself and his newspaper and moved one seat farther away.
It was only twenty after three. But Raymond would have to keep an eye on the time today. He would have to find a pay phone and call his mother if he was going to be late.
Raymond got off the train at 183rd and walked to Andrews Avenue. Found the address.
He didn’t need to call up and have someone buzz him in, because a youngish couple was just coming in through the door with two bags of groceries each. They looked over their shoulders at him, smiled, and allowed him to come through behind them.
They climbed the stairs to the third floor more or less together, Raymond hanging a step or two behind. Then they walked down the hall in the same direction. It wasn’t until they had passed the second-to-last apartment that it seemed to dawn on them all at once. They were going to the same place.