Once Orion is done, he comes out of the bathroom applauding my look. “I hope they’re paying you the big bucks because you make a twenty-dollar shirt look expensive.”
The money for the job is great, and I have to make sure they can wire it directly into my account so Scarlett can claim it. Maybe I can even ask for a cash payment.
“That’s really nice. Thank you,” I say.
“My weather app says it’s kind of chilly this morning. You might want to throw on another layer.”
“You too, then.”
“Oh, I’m definitely robbing you, I don’t fuck with the cold.”
We go through my shirts, and Orion chooses a navy hoodie and I put on my solid gray collared shirt with the buttons undone so my End Day messaging doesn’t get lost.
Then one foot out the apartment.
A trip down six flights of steps.
And I pause at the lobby door.
The last time I left this building, I thought everything was beginning. I had all the hope in the world and years of dreams I would be working to make come true. Now as I push the door open, I’m building steel nerves to get me through what I can only hope to be the best End Day a Decker can possibly have.
Rolando Rubio
6:56 a.m.
Rolando is exhausted when he steps out of the building, putting Death-Cast behind him.
He’s not sure what he will do for work now. He could try begging for his old job at the school. If they won’t rehire him, he can move back to Staten Island and spend some time with his mother. She’s been lonely since his father died and could use some company. But Death-Cast can’t pay him to return to that call center, that’s for sure.
Breathing in that crisp morning air, Rolando is unsure where to go next. He doesn’t want to return to his depressing apartment after such a depressing night. He’d love to see Gloria and Paz and celebrate life while he can. Who knows how long it will be until Death-Cast calls him like he did with so many Deckers. Another part of him wants to see if he can find that old man, Clint Suarez. No one should be alone on their End Day.
Rolando checks his phone, and there are more than twenty missed calls from Frankie. He’s nervous and imagines the worst. Then he remembers that Gloria and Paz can’t be dead because their names weren’t read out loud during the commemoration ceremony this morning. But Death-Cast doesn’t call for near-death experiences, and what if Frankie has beat Gloria so badly that she’s been hospitalized? It wouldn’t be the first time, and he’s unsure when it will be the last.
He calls Frankie to put himself out of his misery.
“Finally,” Frankie answers. “What took you so long?”
“I’ve been working. What’s wrong? Is everyone okay?”
“I need your help on a project that’ll be huge for me and the family.”
Rolando rolls his eyes. He’s sure this is going to be like that time where Frankie wanted to borrow money so he could buy a car “for the family” and to “keep Gloria and Paz safe from the trains” and “so they can take more trips to the beach,” only for Frankie to blow that loan while gambling in Atlantic City. If Rolando had savings, he’d know better than to trust Frankie with any money again.
“What’s the project?” Rolando asks, already thinking up excuses to not help Frankie.
“I want to take pictures of Deckers.”
Rolando waits for more information, but nothing. “Like as a service?” He wouldn’t be surprised if Frankie was trying to make quick cash off Deckers who aren’t sure what to do with their money.
“No, I wouldn’t charge. I just want to be around and capture their final moment.”