Alex looked at his watch and saw if he dressed quickly he had time to make the 8:15 Mass at St. Margaret's. He thought about waking up Bri and Julie and telling them to go with him, but decided it wouldn't be worth the chaos. They'd all go on Sunday, maybe Mami, too, and they could pray for Papi's safe return. But this morning he would go by himself.

He left a note for his sisters, even though they'd probably still be asleep when he got back, and walked to Columbus Avenue, praying for safety as he crossed Broadway, then up the two blocks to the church. The sun was shining brightly, but even so the moon was clearly visible, the way it sometimes was in daylight. Only it was too big. Much too big.

Alex was relieved to find the church open and surprised at the number of people there. More men than he would have assumed would be there, and not all of them old. Many-people had fear in their eyes, and many others were weeping. He was glad he'd left his sisters at home.

He expected the Mass to begin as it always did, but instead Father Franco said he had some announcements to make. Alex could see that he was reading from a sheet of paper. That reassured him. As long as lists were being made, there was order in the world.

"The mayor's office and the archdiocese's office are in constant communication," Father Franco began. "Whenever the archdiocese learns something, it will inform the parish priests so that we can inform our congregants." He looked up for a moment and then smiled. "A whole new reason to go to Mass on weekdays," he said.

There was a ripple of nervous laughter.

"Very well," Father Franco said. "We've been told the subways are not yet back in service and bus service is severely restricted, so unless your work is essential to the survival of the community, you're requested to stay within walking distance of your home. No driving except for emergencies. There is a city-wide curfew from eight pm to six am." He looked up again. "These rules may seem draconian," he said, "but as I'm sure you understand, these are very difficult times. Now I know you've been wondering about electricity. They're hoping to have most of Manhattan back on line by Monday."

"No electricity all weekend?" a man called out from the back.

"All the municipal services are doing what they can under tremendously difficult circumstances," Father Franco said. "The outages are nationwide."

"What about the phones?" a woman asked.

Father Franco consulted his list. "There's no time frame for return of phone service," he said. "Again, these are national problems. Most of the communication satellites have crashed. Let's see, what else. Airports remain closed until further notice. No decision has been made about when the public and parochial schools will reopen." He looked up again. "We'll use our bulletin board to post any information we receive from the archdiocese, so be sure to check that daily. All the churches are running short staffed. I'm sure you can understand why. But the archdiocese has declared that all its churches will be open from six am to eight pm. There may not be a priest available, but Christ, our savior, will hear your prayers."

Alex had thought the ritual of the Mass, which he knew so well, would provide him with comfort, but his mind was reeling from all Father Franco had said. It wasn't so much that he was taken by surprise. He knew about the phones, the electricity, the subways. But he hadn't really known that everyone else knew. Somehow it had felt like the problems belonged to West Eighty-eighth Street. But it wasn't just Papi stuck in Milagro del Mar; people all over the world were affected by the airports being closed. And Mami wasn't the only person stuck at her job with no way of reassuring her family that she was all right.

Alex prayed to Christ for the wisdom to see what would be required of him and for the strength to do it. He prayed for the souls of those who were dead, and for the safe return of those who were gone. He thanked God for the Church, without which he would be lost.

He got home to find his sisters up and prowling around the apartment.

"You're back!" Bri cried as though he'd been gone for weeks, not hours. "Where were you?"

"At St. Margaret's," he said. "I left a note. Didn't you see it?"

"Yeah," Bri admitted. "We were worried you might not come right back."

"Well, I did," Alex said. "And I'm hungry. Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No," Bri said. "We didn't feel like eating until we knew you were okay."

"I'm fine," Alex said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "Why don't you make us breakfast, Bri. We'll all be happier after we've eaten."

"What do we have to be happy about?" Julie asked. "We don't know where Mami or Papi are, or what's happening, or when things are going to be normal again."

"Well, you could be happy you're not in school flunking your English test," Alex said. "You could be happy because we have food in the house and we have each other. You could be happy because the sun is shining and because you got to sleep late. There are a lot of things you could be happy about if you wanted."

"Do you want to smell the milk?" Bri asked from the kitchen. "I think it's okay."

Alex went into the kitchen and took a sniff. "It's okay," he said. "Let's have cereal and milk while we can."

"What does that mean?" Julie asked. "When won't we be able to have cereal and milk?"

"Father Franco said they weren't sure when we'd be getting electricity back," Alex said. "That's all. Maybe by Monday. No point buying milk before then."

Bri put wheat flakes into three bowls and then poured some milk over hers. She took a bite and smiled. "It's okay." she said. She sliced a banana and distributed the pieces.

"What else did Father Franco say?" Julie asked.

"He said the airports are closed and phones are going to be out for a while," Alex said. "Which is why we haven't heard from Mami. I tried calling the hospital this morning, but the phone was dead. We were lucky Papi and Carlos got through to us yesterday. And they don't know when schools will reopen."

"That should make you happy," Bri said to Julie.

"I miss school," Julie said. "I'm bored. At least at school I do stuff and I hang out with my friends."

"There's stuff for you to do here," Alex said. "For both of you. After breakfast, why don't you put away all the food we got from Uncle Jimmy?"

"There may not be room for it in the cupboards," Bri said.

"See if you can find room," Alex said. "You know how Papi and Mami feel about the apartment being a mess. That reminds me. Julie, did you think to take batteries?"

Julie shook her head. "Did you?" she asked.

"I wouldn't be asking if I had," Alex said.

"We're okay without batteries," Bri said. "The flashlights are working."

"I wanted them for the radio," Alex said. "I guess it'll have to wait."

"What are you going to do?" Julie asked.

"I have things to check," Alex said. "You do your job and I'll do mine."

"Yes, master," Julie said.

Alex left his sisters and went into his parents' bedroom. If Mami walked in while he was going through their things, she'd kill him. But Alex figured he'd better see if there was any cash in the house. He had his tip money from Wednesday night, more than usual, thanks to 12B, but that wasn't very-much.

He started with the drawers of his parents' bureau, in case there was an envelope with money under their clothes. Then he opened the drawers of their night table. No money there, either. He fingered Mami's rosary beads, wishing she had them with her.

Alex checked their closet next, rifling through his father's pants pockets. He was rewarded with a handful of coins and two dollar bills.

On his father's night table, Alex found the key to Papi's office, where he kept his supplies. It was unlikely Papi kept any money there, but it needed to be checked out. Papi never let any of the kids into his office unless he was there, and even then only Carlos had ever hung out with him.