Part 41 (1/2)

”What are you going to do?” my father said.

His sister gave him a small smile but it faded fast. ”This is where we part ways, brother.”

Dez tried to sit up. ”Gotta get out of here,” he said, raising his hands to his head again.

My aunt looked at her watch, a large white circular face with a black band. ”Now. Go.”

”Goodbye, Elena,” I said.

She smiled a sweet smile that made me remember the woman I'd spent time with in Italy. ”Goodbye, cara.”

75.

W e pushed the door open, all of us shooting outside. We hurried up the street, running over the bridge suspended above the Kennedy Expressway. When we got to the other side, my father stopped us. We tried to catch our breaths, tried to focus our minds on what was happening.

”Where can we go?” my dad said.

I thought of Theo and his text from that morning. ”Saint Pat's Block Party.”

My father looked completely confused.

”It's lots of people,” Charlie said. ”About ten blocks long.”

”Let's go.”

We turned and took off jogging down Lake Street, cutting over to Madison and then continuing west.

We got to the entrance of the block party.

Behind the gates, people were packed on the street, the crowd stretching back block after block after block. Beer and food tents lined the sides of the streets. A huge music stage stood on the right, and a band was going through sound check. Everyone was in a giddy mood, laughing and drinking and milling around in the sun.

I reached in my skirt pockets and found them empty. ”I don't have any money.”

My mother whipped out her purse and paid for all of us to get in. I wondered why Dez hadn't taken it. He'd underestimated her and that had been a mistake.

The ticket taker frowned at us before she let us through the gate. ”Do you need security?” she asked.

For a second, we all stopped and looked at each other. Charlie's face was swollen, his blood was on my mother's s.h.i.+rt, and my father's s.h.i.+rt was torn so that a flap hung down from the shoulder, exposing his chest. I looked down at my own s.h.i.+rt and recoiled. A few drops of Ransom's blood were clearly visible.

Make something up, Izzy.

”We're fine,” I said. ”We drove four hours just for this street fair. We got into a little car accident, but we've been treated and we just want to go in and enjoy ourselves.”

The ticket taker didn't move, frowned more. A badge on the chest of her green T-s.h.i.+rt read Volunteer.

I looked around, pointed at a T-s.h.i.+rt stand. ”We're going to get T-s.h.i.+rts.” I gestured at the volunteer. ”Just like that one.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw my mother raise an eyebrow. She was never one for uniforms or group dressing.

At last, the ticket taker shrugged and stood back for us to enter.

Once inside, we pushed past people to the stand and purchased four green T-s.h.i.+rts that screamed World's Largest Block Party!

My father accepted the T-s.h.i.+rt silently, his head swiveling around, appearing like a lost fish dumped into a big foreign pond. An intoxicated couple, walking while making out and slos.h.i.+ng beer at the same time, b.u.mped into him and he glared at them.

Meanwhile, my mother was glaring at her T-s.h.i.+rt with a look of distaste. But gamely she said, ”Now, where should we change?”

”The Porta-Johns.” Charlie pointed.

My mother frowned.

”Mom,” I said, ”have you ever been in a Porta Potti?”

She looked at me blandly. ”What do you think?” She turned to the bathrooms. ”There's a first time for everything.” My mother marched toward the Porta Potti, her T-s.h.i.+rt in hand.

The lines for the women's bathrooms were at least ten feet deep with women holding beers or talking to their friends behind them.

”Hurry if you can,” my dad said to us. ”And when we're done, we need to pick a spot to meet.”

”How about the back entrance to the stage?” Charlie pointed to the area where the band was still sound-checking.

”Great,” my dad said. ”Let's go.”

I turned and followed my mother to the ladies' lines, but instead of getting in one, my mother marched toward the front.

”Mom,” I said, ”no one is going to let you in. People get downright territorial with these lines.”

”They'll let me in.” She walked up to the very first person. ”h.e.l.lo. Is there any possible way I could utilize the restroom ahead of you?”

The woman was already wearing an irritated look that said she'd been in that line for a while. She opened her mouth, clearly about to reject my mother's suggestion.

But my mother opened her mouth faster. ”I'm having a terrible hot flash. Menopause, you know. I need to give myself an anti-hormone shot.” She gestured at me. ”And I need my daughter to help me.”

The woman blinked and held up her hand in front of her face as if to say, That was more information than I needed, and then she pointed at the door, which opened right at that minute.

My mother and I went inside.

”My G.o.d,” she said. ”It's truly horrible in here. This is why I've never been in one of these.” She smashed her back against the locked door to give me room. ”You change first.”

I took off my s.h.i.+rt and pulled the green T-s.h.i.+rt over my head. ”How did you know that woman would let us in? Are you really having a hot flash?”

My mother tsked and unb.u.t.toned her blouse. ”Of course not. And if I was, I certainly wouldn't tell anyone. But the thing is, you young women are so afraid of menopause. You don't even want to be around someone having a hot flash.”

My mother pulled the green T-s.h.i.+rt over her head.

I started to laugh.