Alex took a sip. "It's fine," he said. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he smelled the eggs. He'd just finished gobbling down the food when the phone rang.

"Maybe it's Mami!" Briana cried, and raced to answer it. "Hello? It's Carlos! Hi, Carlos. Is everything okay where you are?"

"Give me the phone, Bri," Alex said. "Carlos, this is Alex. How are you?"

"I'm okay," Carlos said. "I can only talk for a minute. We're being deployed. I don't know where we're going, but they told us all to call home. Is everything okay with you?"

"We're fine," Alex said. "Papi called this morning and spoke to Bri. And Mami's at the hospital. How are things where you are? Is it blacked out?"

"No, we have electricity," Carlos said. "Is Julie all right?"

"She's sleeping," Alex said. "Jimmy had us empty out the bodega. She worked really hard. You want me to wake her?"

"No, that's okay," Carlos said. "Look, Alex, you're in charge now until Papi gets home. Mami's going to be depending on you."

"I know," Alex said. "Carlos, have they told you anything about how long before things get back to normal?"

"Nothing definite," Carlos said. "Just that it's going to take a long time and we should expect lots of trouble."

"Well, we're okay," Alex said. "We got a lot of food from the bodega. And Jimmy's around in case we need any help until Papi gets home."

"Good," Carlos said. "I'd better get off. There's a long line here. You take care, Alex, and take care of Mami and the girls. You're the man of the house now."

"Don't worry about us," Alex said, but before he had a chance to say good-bye, he heard Carlos hang up.

"Who was that?" Julie asked, coming out from her room. "Mami?"

"It was Carlos," Bri replied. "He called to make sure we were all right."

"Carlos?" Julie said. "Why didn't you let me speak to him?"

"He was in a hurry," Alex said. "He's being deployed. See,

Bri, there's nothing to worry about. The Marines are on the job."

"Mami'll be so glad we heard from him," Briana said. "Julie, do you want any eggs?"

"My stomach hurts," Julie replied. "I was so scared at the bodega, I ate a bunch of candy bars."

"Well, that was real bright of you," Alex said. His head was pounding, but he knew it had nothing to do with candy.

"You don't know what it was like," Julie said. "I was all alone there and I could hear people shooting."

"People are shooting?" Bri asked. "Are we safe, Alex?"

"Of course we are," Alex said. He could have killed Julie. "You know what it's like uptown. We're fine here. I'm going to go to school and see what I can find out."

"But you'll come right back?" Bri asked. "Even if school's open?"

"All right," Alex said. "Don't worry. Everything'll be all right. I promise."

"You can't promise that," Julie said, but he chose to ignore her as he left the apartment.

The chaos on the streets before dawn was nothing compared to the madness he encountered. The traffic was worse than he'd ever seen. The side streets were like parking lots, and so were West End and Amsterdam Avenues, where the traffic went uptown. Broadway was limited to emergency vehicles, and they were flying down the avenue, their sirens screaming. With the traffic lights not working, the drivers made up their own rules about when to go. No one stopped for anybody, and Alex raced each time he crossed the street. There were few other people walking, and the stores all had their steel gates locked in place. But even without pedestrians, the noise from sirens, honking horns, and screaming drivers was overwhelming.

Vincent de Paul was on Seventy-third and Columbus, and unless the weather was really bad, Alex walked. The skies were threatening, but the thunderstorm he'd been expecting since last night had yet to arrive. Sweat dripped down his brow, but he couldn't be sure whether it was from the heat, the running, or fear. Julie was right. He couldn't promise anything.

When he got to the multistory, brick school building Alex found a sign on the door, closed until Monday.

Alex wasn't surprised, but he was disappointed. School had always been a safe haven for him, and he'd counted on finding someone there who could give him a better idea of what was going on. Not that he was so sure he really wanted to know.

He turned away from the door, and almost immediately the rain began. Lightning bolts flashed and thunder clapped. He cursed himself for not having brought an umbrella, for going out in the first place. He couldn't even be sure the subways were running in a blackout.

He walked to the Seventy-second Street station and found a chain across the stairwell. A soaking wet cop stood nearby, watching the ambulances fly down Broadway.

Alex gestured toward the subway station.

"Closed," the cop said. "The tunnels flooded."

"Thanks," Alex said. He wandered what had caused the flooding, but it was raining too hard for conversation. He ran the mile or so back home, and was drenched by the time he got into the apartment.

"School's closed until Monday," he said. "Did Mami call?"

Briana shook her head. "Julie went back to bed," she said. "You're soaking."

"Yeah, I know," Alex said. "I'm going to dry off and go to sleep. Wake me up before Monday, okay?"

Briana laughed. "Go to sleep," she said. "By the time you wake up, I bet Mami'll be home and everything will be okay."

"I bet you're right," Alex said, but he knew that was a fairy tale. As he hung up his wet school clothes and changed back into his jeans and T-shirt, he thought about the tunnels flooding. The subway Mami took to Queens went through a tunnel. But that had been last night, and things must have been all right then. Still he knew he wouldn't feel at peace until they heard from her.

Bed looked very inviting. But first he got down on his knees, made the sign of the cross, and prayed for the safety of his mother and father and brother, for the safety of his sisters, and then for the safety of his country and the world.

God, show us mercy, he prayed. And give me strength.

Only then did he allow himself to escape into sleep.

Friday, May 20

He was awake when his clock began blinking 12:00, 12:00. Alex checked his watch. It was 6:45 am.

He could hear the whir of the refrigerator turning back on, but there were no other sounds in the apartment. Throwing on his robe, he tiptoed into the living room, not wanting to wake Bri or Julie. All the grocery bags scattered around looked ridiculous now, a crazy extravagance during a crazy day.

Alex turned on the TV, lowering the sound as quickly as he could. He sat close to the set, keeping the volume as low as possible so his sisters wouldn't be disturbed. Only a couple of stations came in, but he wasn't looking for variety, just information. Both stations were doing news broadcasts, focusing exclusively on the emergency.

On one station the broadcaster was talking about conditions in Europe, but Alex knew that could wait. He switched to the second station. At first that one talked about how things were elsewhere in the United States. No word of survivors on the Carolina barrier islands. Terrible conditions in Cape Cod.

It took about fifteen minutes of terrible news around the country before the newscasters began focusing on New York. Alex sat there, absolutely still, the sound so low he could barely hear. The words and pictures assaulted him anyway. Horrific loss of life. Lower Manhattan decimated. Staten Island, Long Island devastated. Blackouts, looting, riots. Curfew between 8 pm and 6 am. Tides twenty feet tall, sweeping away people, trees, even buildings. Mandatory evacuations. Plane crashes. Countless numbers of people dead in subways and in cars from tunnel flooding.