“I have three passes,” Alex said. “They’re for family members—wives, husbands, young children. I’m past the cutoff age.”
“But Julie isn’t,” I said. “Did Carlos know about the passes? When he decided she should go to the convent?”
“I told him everything,” Alex replied. “I hoped he’d know where a safe town was. They keep them guarded. Carlos tried to find out where one was but he couldn’t, so he told me to take Julie to the convent instead. Julie didn’t want to go and I took her side. But Carlos insisted. Julie had to be someplace where she’d be protected, someplace where he and I could find her.”
“You still have the passes?” I asked. “You held on to them all this time?”
“I kept them in reserve,” he said. “I would have bartered them for Julie if I’d had to. Then I thought I’d give them to the sisters, as payment for taking Julie. That way it wouldn’t be charity.”
“Julie’s lucky to have you,” I said.
“No one is lucky to have me,” he said. “Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“I am,” I said. “I’m lucky.”
“Miranda,” he said, but I hushed him with a kiss.
Dad and Matt went into town today for our food. As far as I know, this is the first they’ve talked since before the trip to the convent.
After they left, Alex came over. “I was wondering if you wanted to go house hunting,” he asked me.
We got on the bikes and began riding. I led us in a new direction, and we prowled through a couple of houses, not finding much but not expecting to, either. We worked in silence, staying in the same rooms, but never touching.
“Miranda, I’ve been thinking,” Alex said at last.
“You think too much,” I said.
He grabbed me. Or maybe I grabbed him. It’s a little hazy. All I know is we were in each other’s arms, sharing a long, hard, hungry kiss.
“No,” he said, inching away. “This isn’t right.”
“You’re thinking again,” I said, pulling him back for another kiss. He wanted me as much as I wanted him.
“Come with us,” he said. “Julie and me. We’ll be a family.”
“What about the monastery?” I asked.
“That was a dream,” he said. “Like the safe town. Like the convent. But you’re real, Miranda. You and Julie and the world we’ve been handed. We can make it work. I know we can.”
“That’s what I want, too,” I said.
Alex hugged me. “You won’t regret it,” he said. “We’ll find a priest in Pittsburgh and get married there. I’ll get housing for you and Julie while I work in the coal mines. You won’t go hungry. I swear you won’t.”
“Married?” I said. “By a priest? Couldn’t we just exchange vows right now?”
“No,” Alex said. “We can’t keep on like this. It’s a sin. Either we get married in the eyes of God and the Church or we stop now.”
I reached out to him and grasped his hand. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t say yes, I’ll marry you, and leave everybody I love behind. I love you and I want you, but I’m not ready for that yet. I don’t think it’s what you want, not really.”
“You have no idea what I want,” Alex said.
“So tell me,” I said. “What do you want, Alex? To be with me? To be a Franciscan? Make me understand what you want.”
He stood there so silent I could hear his heart beat. “I want to be good,” he said softly. “But I don’t know how.”
“Oh, Alex,” I said, longing to hold him and knowing he’d resist if I tried. “None of us know anymore.”
He nodded and then he wept, like a little boy who’d asked for the moon and been told he could never have it.
I used to love the Fourth of July. Hot weather. Fireworks.
Today was gloomy and 50 degrees.
The guys celebrated the day by chopping firewood. Mom made her regular inspection of our food supplies. Gabriel, I suppose, cried, and Lisa most likely hovered around him.
Syl doesn’t eat breakfast. She says she never did and she doesn’t see any point starting now. This, of course, drives Mom crazy, but good mother-in-law that she is, she keeps her opinion about breakfast being the most important meal of the day to herself.
So when everyone was busy and Syl was hiding in Matt’s bedroom, I went up to talk with her. Which I’ve hardly done since I’ve come back, and which, frankly, I wouldn’t want to do except there was something I had to ask her.
I knocked on the door and told Syl it was me and she said to come in. She was lying on the sofa-bed mattress, covered with blankets even though the electric heater was going full blast.
“I’m never warm enough,” she said. “Except in the sunroom with the woodstove.”
“You could come downstairs,” I pointed out.
“I will later,” she said.
I looked at her and thought about how she’d let Horton out to die, and then I told myself not to think about that, because there was a chance Syl knew something that could help Alex and Julie. “There was something you said once,” I began. “About truck drivers.”
“What about them?” she asked, propping herself up with her elbow.
“You said they stopped sometimes when they were going to safe towns,” I said. “And picked people up.”
“Girls,” Syl said. “They never stopped for guys. And they never did on the way to safe towns. The trucks would be filled with supplies then. On the way back they might stop for a girl.”
“Did they ever stop for you?” I asked.
“What business is that of yours?” she said.
“No,” I said. “You don’t understand. I was wondering if one of them told you where he’d come from, where the safe town was. That’s all.”
“No,” Syl said. “They knew better than to talk. They could lose their jobs if they told anyone where the safe towns are located.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’m sorry if I bothered you.”
“Sit down,” she said. “I hate the way you’re standing there, glaring at me.”
“I’m not glaring,” I said, but I did as she said and sat on the mattress by her side.
“It doesn’t matter where any of the safe towns are,” Syl said. “None of us could get in. We’re not important enough. They’re for politicians, people like that.”
Syl and Lisa have gotten pretty close. If Dad had told Lisa about the passes, Lisa would have told Syl. Dad must have kept that knowledge to himself, figuring it would upset Lisa. I had to be careful I didn’t let Syl know why I was asking.
“It’s stupid,” I said. “I thought maybe because Mom is a writer, we could get in. That’s all. I remembered you mentioned them, so I thought I’d ask if you knew where one is. But you don’t, and I’m sorry I bothered you.”
For the first time since I’ve known her, Syl looked uncomfortable. “Look,” she said. “There are things I’ve told Matt and things I haven’t, but the only reason I haven’t is because he hates hearing about them. All right? I’m not ashamed of anything I did. I’m alive and I’m here because of what I did. Matt knows that. He accepts that. But he doesn’t like the details.”
“I won’t tell Matt,” I said. “I swear.”
“Scout’s honor?” Syl asked, and then she laughed. “All right. I believe you. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I was in an evac camp. This was, I don’t know, maybe a year ago. Pretty early on. The camps have guards, military police, young guys mostly. And one of them had gotten his hands on some bottles of vodka, so he and his buddies decided
