"No sir," Alex said. "But I'm leaving anyway."
Kevin snickered.
"I do not care for the attitude some of you are taking," Father Mulrooney declared. "This is a school, not a social club. You cannot come and go as you please."
"I'm very sorry," Alex said, "but I have to go. I'll come back if I can. Now if you'll excuse me." He grabbed his books and walked out of the cafeteria, aware that the eyes of the other students were on him. Alex Morales, who had never missed a day of school, who had never talked back to a teacher, let alone a priest, had just defied the headmaster. Well, let them look. What did they understand? Even Father Mulrooney, who knew about Mami, had no knowledge about Papi being gone as well.
Alex rammed his books into his locker, then left the school building and began running to St. Margaret's. He paid no mind to the traffic lights, since there were hardly any cars on the streets. It had been an unusually hot spring, and Alex was sweating by the time he reached the church, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that Father Franco knew something. After three weeks, there was finally word.
As always there were a half dozen people sitting in the outer office, waiting for their chance to speak with the father. Alex took his place resentfully. If what Father Franco had to tell him was so urgent, why did he have to wait for an hour to hear what it was?
He should have looked at the bulletin board first, he told himself. If he got up now, he'd lose his place and add a half hour or more to his wait. He should have brought at least one schoolbook with him, since he had nothing to distract himself with except looking at the suffering faces of those who sat with him. Distraction would have been welcome, because he found he was beginning to hope. Maybe Milagro del Mar had been spared the tidal waves and Papi was all right.
Or maybe Bri was right and Mami had suffered some kind of accident and only now was able to tell people who she was and where she lived.
Or maybe Father Franco had gotten word about Carlos, through his Marine chaplain. There were as many good possibilities as bad ones, but Alex knew the good ones were more dangerous. It was one thing to say "Don't give up hope." It was another to have hope dashed time after time.
Eventually his turn came. He prayed for the strength to hear what Father Franco had to tell him.
"Alex," he said. "I thought you'd come after school."
"Father Mulrooney said I should come as soon as I could," Alex replied, sitting down. He'd seen Father Franco at Mass just two days earlier, but already the priest looked years older. "Have you heard something?"
"Yes," Father Franco said. "Oh, you mean about your father. No, son, I'm afraid not. Nothing new, at least. There is some communication now between San Juan and the mainland, but the fate of the little villages still isn't known. No, that's not why I asked you to come."
Alex waited for the next body blow, that his mother's body had been identified. But Father Franco surprised him.
"It's about your sister, Briana," he said instead. "Good news for a change."
Alex tried to smile. "I'd like good news," he said.
"There's a small convent in upstate New York," Father Franco said. "Really quite a remarkable place. There are six sisters and they have a working farm. They've decided to invite ten Catholic high school girls to stay at the convent indefinitely. The girls will work on the farm, but they'll also be educated by the sisters, sort of a summer camp turned into boarding school. Most of the girls they've invited come from families who have connections to the convent, but I happen to know one of the sisters, and I told her I know a perfect candidate. I wasn't positive how old Briana is, but I said fifteen and going into her sophomore year of high school."
"She'll be fifteen next month," Alex said, trying to take it all in. "And yes, she'll be a sophomore."
Father Franco looked quite pleased with himself. "The sisters are only inviting girls who attend Catholic schools, but that should be no problem," he said. "Briana goes to Holy Angels, doesn't she?"
Alex nodded.
"Excellent," Father Franco said. "I'm very pleased for you, for your family, and most of all, for Briana. I know what a devout girl she is, and perhaps growing up in the atmosphere of a convent, she'll find she has a vocation. But even if she doesn't, she'll still have a safe place to stay, and you and your family won't have to worry about her."
"Just Briana?" Alex said, suddenly realizing that with Bri gone, he'd be left alone with Julie. "Couldn't they take Julie also?"
Father Franco shook his head. "I asked," he said. "But Sister Grace said the girls must be teenagers. Besides, they're only taking one girl from each family. Briana is the perfect fit."
"Thank you, Father," Alex said. "I'm very grateful." It would be good to know Bri at least was someplace safe.
Father Franco smiled. Alex couldn't remember the last time the priest had looked so satisfied. "The bus leaves for the convent on Thursday afternoon," he said. "Briana needs to be at St. Benedict's Church, Madison and 112th, by one. She'll need her baptismal certificate, her most recent report card, and a recent canceled check to Holy Angels. Can you find all that:"
"Yes, I think so," Alex said. "Do you mean this Thursday?"
"The sooner the better," Father Franco replied. "Imagine Briana in the fresh country air, eating eggs and drinking milk. Now here's the information about the convent, its address and phone number. Sister Grace said that for the first month you shouldn't call, since it's natural for the girls to be homesick and it will be easier for them if they're not reminded of what they've left behind. But I assure you, Briana will be in the best possible hands. When you see her next, she'll be plump as a kitten." He stood and extended his hand for Alex to shake. "Your family is in my prayers," he said. "But I like to think one prayer has been answered."
"Yes, Father," Alex said. "Thank you for everything." He left the office, then went to the nave, genuflected at the crucifix, then knelt in prayer.
Heavenly Father, teach me to accept all my losses, he prayed. And show me how to live in peace with Julie.
Wednesday, June 8
Alex watched his sisters leave for Holy Angels, then went to his parents' bedroom to search for the papers Bri would need. there'd been no electricity the night before and he was uncomfortable enough with the idea of rifling through his parents' possessions without wanting to do it by flashlight. Besides, he didn't dare risk having Bri or Julie wake up. Better to do it Wednesday morning and get to school late. He wouldn't even mind detention. The less time he spent with Bri the better, since seeing her and thinking about how long it might be before he saw her again upset him fiercely.
It's for the best, he told himself. Their food supplies were running low. Even if they skipped more meals, there was hardly enough left for two weeks. As it was, they no longer ate breakfast. With the school year coming to an end, Alex had no idea how they'd survive. This way, at least, Bri would have food, and what little remained at home would last that much longer.
Alex gritted his teeth and began going through his parents' chest of drawers. He hoped he'd find a report card, since the sisters would be impressed with Bri's grades.
The scent of his parents' clothing nearly made him sick with longing. Three weeks ago, they'd been a family. Now Alex was exiling Bri, the sweetest of them all. Would he ever see her again?
It's for the best, he reminded himself. He had to be strong, the way Papi or Carlos would be.
No report cards, no baptism certificates in the chest of drawers. He went into the kitchen and got the step stool so he could go through the shoe boxes on the top shelf of their closet. The boxes weren't labeled, but eventually he found their report cards and Bri's baptism certificate. He put the boxes back, carried the step stool back to the kitchen, and located the bank statements in a kitchen drawer. Then he took the papers to his room, hiding them under the top bunk mattress. He doubted the girls would ever go through his things, but there was no point taking chances.