"Excuse me, Father," Alex said, and did as he was told.

Saturday, July 2

"I'm calling Bri," Alex declared. "The hell with the rules."

Julie stared at him like he was a stranger. Maybe it was the cut on his cheek, he thought. It made him look like a pirate.

He picked up the phone only to find it was dead. That figured. But it wasn't like he had anything else to do. So for the rest of the day, at fifteen-minute intervals, he picked up the phone to see if it was working.

At four-fifteen, he got a dial tone. He pressed the numbers carefully, and was rewarded by the sound of a ringing telephone on the other end.

"Notburga Farms."

"Hello, this is Alex Morales," Alex said. "My sister Briana Morales is staying with you."

"Yes," the woman on the other end said. Alex pictured a nun like Sister Rita, warm and caring.

"Today's Bri's birthday," Alex said. "My sister Julie and I are calling to wish her a happy birthday."

"I'm sorry," the woman said. "But none of the girls are allowed calls from their families for another week. You'll receive a schedule in the mail telling you when you may call."

"But it's her birthday!" Alex protested. "We won't stay on long. Just wish her a happy birthday and hang up, I promise."

"I'm sorry," the woman said. "But the rules are for the good of all the girls. We can't make any exceptions."

Alex heard the click as he was hung up on. Julie looked at him.

"She wouldn't let me talk to her," he said. "¡Maldita monja!"

Julie's jaw dropped. Then she giggled.

Alex was too angry to laugh. He could hear Father Mulrooney telling him to contemplate the virtues of obedience. He raised his hand to smack Julie into silence, then realized what he was about to do and stormed out of the apartment, not stopping until he reached Eighty-fourth and Columbus, where, standing in front of Morse, he screamed curses at the empty building.

Sunday, July 3

At Mass Father Franco instructed the parishioners to boil all their drinking water. Cases of cholera had begun to appear in the city.

"That includes the water you use for brushing your teeth," he reminded them. "And whenever you're going outside don't forget to put on insect repellent to ward off West Nile virus."

"Sister Rita always has us put on insect repellent before we go to the garden," Julie said somewhat smugly. "That's the rule."

"Good," Alex said, too hungry and too angry to care.

Tuesday, July 5

Alex returned to school with the ten signatures proving he'd made his morning calls. It had been a long, miserable weekend, not improved any with Monday being the Fourth of July.

There was very little food left. If he didn't get any on Friday at Morse, he had two choices: either to go without eating all weekend or without supper the following week. Otherwise, there'd be no food for Julie.

He never should have made that vow to Bri. He should have let Uncle Jimmy take Julie. He had little chance of surviving with her around, and if he died, what would become of her anyway?

But he was stuck with her, at least until he could find someplace that would take her in. Maybe the sisters at Holy Angels knew of something. If he could talk to one of them without Julie finding out, he would ask.

He took the list of signatures to Father Mulrooney's office. "Here they are, Father," he said.

Father Mulrooney barely looked at them. "Very well," he said. "I trust you spent the weekend in contemplation, Mr. Morales."

"I thought about a lot of things," Alex replied, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. "Including the virtue of compassion."

"Do you feel I showed insufficient compassion?" Father Mulrooney asked.

To hell with him and his damn eyebrows, Alex thought. "Yes, Father, that's exactly what I felt," he replied.

"And what's so special about you that you deserve compassion?" Father Mulrooney said. "You have shelter. You have food. You have family and friends. I'm supposed to feel pity for you because of a cut cheek?"

"You don't understand at all," Alex said. "I have shelter for as long as no one thinks about it. Once they do, once they realize my father is gone, they can throw us out. I have food only if I get lunch here. We're down to almost nothing at home, and I have to make sure my kid sister eats. She is my family right now, because my parents are both gone and my older brother is in the Marines somewhere and I sent my other sister to live at a convent with strangers. My cheek was cut because I got caught in a food riot, with my kid sister, and we ended up with no food anyway. I'm not asking you to pity me. I pity me enough for the two of us. But when one of your students asks you for food, you shouldn't say no and feel righteous about it. That's not what Christ would have done, and you know it."

"These are the worst of times," Father Mulrooney replied. "Rules are needed even more now. Without them there is anarchy."

Alex thought about the riot, about the baby, about the man he had trampled on. "Sometimes the rules don't work," he said. "Sometimes the rules cause the anarchy."

"I believe you were on the debating team," Father Mulrooney said.

"Yes, Father," Alex said.

Father Mulrooney nodded. "Very well," he said. "I'll think about what you just said."

"Thank you, Father," Alex said. "I'll think about what you said as well."

He walked out of the office to find Kevin Daley standing there. "I like your style," Kevin said.

"Thank you," Alex said. "I like it, too."

Wednesday, July 6

Kevin ran over to Alex as he was about to leave to get Julie. "I have something for you," he said, handing Alex a brown paper bag.

Alex peeked inside the bag and saw a canned ham.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"Don't worry," Kevin said. "No one'll notice it's gone."

"I can't pay you for this," Alex said, handing the bag back.

"I'm not asking for anything," Kevin said. "You're doing me the favor. I can't stand the stuff."

Alex couldn't begin to guess how many meals he and Julie could make from the ham. "Thank you," he said. "My sister and I… Well, I really appreciate it."

"De nada," Kevin said with a grin, and Alex grinned back.

Thursday, July 7

Alex left Julie in the apartment and went up to check out the four vacant apartments for which he had keys. It took a fair amount of searching, but in 11F, he located a travel alarm clock. At some point he'd go through things more thoroughly, but this was all he wanted right then.

He set the alarm for 5:00 am to make sure he had enough time to get ready. Curfew ended at 6:00 in the morning. He didn't know how rigidly it was being enforced, but he couldn't afford to take any chances. Julie wouldn't survive if he ended up in jail or shot for curfew violation.

He knew he wouldn't sleep well anyway, since he'd be worried the alarm wouldn't go off. It would take a while before he trusted it. But it was the best he could come up with in a world with unreliable electricity. And knowing he'd done the best he could made him feel more positive about how things would go on Friday.

Friday, July 8

The clock worked. Alex dressed and left a note for Julie, explaining he was going to the food line and that she was to stay in the apartment until he got back. He was pretty sure she would. She'd gotten better about doing what she was told. Then again, he wasn't telling her what to do as much.

He left the apartment at 6:00 on the dot, and ran down the few blocks to Eighty-fourth and Columbus. When he got there, the line had already curved around Amsterdam, but it was nowhere near as long as it had been the week before. Alex wondered if it would get that way later, or if people had given up. It didn't matter to him, just as long as he got there early-enough to get the bag of food. Two would be better, but after last week he wasn't going to risk Julie's life. One bag of food, he hoped, would be enough for the two of them for the weekend and for suppers for Julie for the week, if not for him. That didn't matter too much. He was getting used to being hungry. There were worse things.