Red Rain

white boards planked together to form a one-room shelter with a flat roof low overhead.

“She’s not a woman. She’s our new mum.” Daniel lay on his back on the flat cot against the wall, hands behind his head.

“Ikey is fishing on the dock,” Samuel said, pointing toward the water. “I can see him from here. You have to tell Mum-”

Daniel shook his head. He had a strange, smug smile on his face. As if the conversation was funny. “Ikey can’t come. Mum won’t take three of us. She only wants two.”

“You don’t know that. Did you ask her?” Samuel’s voice rose with emotion. He wanted to wipe the smile off his brother’s face. He stepped into the shack, ducking his head under the thick web of fishing nets hanging from the already low ceiling. “Did you ask her?”

Daniel pulled a segment of rope net down to him and twirled it around his hand. “Ikey isn’t pretty like us. Mum doesn’t want him.”

“But she has to know-”

“No, she doesn’t!” Daniel sat up quickly, blue eyes flaring angrily. A snort escaped his throat. Like an animal show of anger.

Samuel took a step back. He knew his brother’s temper well. It taught him caution at an early age. Arguing with Daniel was such a waste of time. But he had to try. Someone had to look out for their little friend. Samuel had protected Ikey before. From others.

How could he protect him against Daniel?

“We will have a swimming pool,” Daniel said, lying back down, twirling the fishing rope again. “Our own swimming pool, Sammy. And lobster to eat every night. And we’ll wear new jeans and rule the school. That’s what we always wanted, right, boyo? To rule the school?”

Daniel giggled, as if he’d said something hilarious. His head swung from side to side on the cot as he giggled some more.

Samuel felt his throat clench. Daniel was being Daniel again.

He took a deep breath. “I want to bring Ikey. Ikey is like our brother. He’s our only friend. He’s like family, Daniel.”

“Family? Are you joking with me, lad?”

“No, it’s not a joke.”

Samuel scratched his chest. The new mum had found them jeans and T-shirts. But the clothes were stiff and scratchy. Samuel had sensitive skin. He needed soft fabrics or he’d break into a rash all over.

“We are starting a new family,” Daniel insisted. “You. Me. The new mum. The new dad. A new bruvver and sister. A new family, Sammy. We’ll swim all day in our own pool. We’ll go fishing in the bay. That’s what Mum says. And we’ll rule the school. Like heaven. You want to go to heaven, don’t you, Sammy? We’re moving to Heaven.”

Samuel made two fists. “I hate it when you talk stupid like that. You think it’s cool, but it isn’t. It’s sick.”

Daniel tossed the rope at the wall. He snorted again.

“I’m going to tell the new mum about Ikey,” Samuel said, showing unusual courage. He knew he’d soon back down.

“Then she won’t take us.” Daniel swung around and leaped to his feet in a quick, graceful motion. He flashed Samuel a grin as he pushed past him and strode out of the little shack, onto the grassy approach to the beach.

“Where are you going?” Samuel turned to follow him.

“I’m going to explain to Ikey,” Daniel replied without turning back.

“Explain to him? But-wait!”

Daniel trotted to the sand. Samuel could see Ikey sitting hunched at the end of the short dock in a beam of sunlight. Feet hanging over the side, fishing pole dangling beside him. Ikey smiled and waved as Daniel approached.

“Wait, Daniel.”

Samuel sighed. He walked inside the shack and slumped to the damp floor. He scratched the sleeve of the starchy T-shirt. Mum seemed nice. She was pretty with that straight black hair and the shiny dark eyes. Almost like a movie star. But if all the T-shirts were this scratchy, it wouldn’t be heaven.

At least their new home was near water. The ocean and the bay, Mum had said. The place was called Long Island. That was good. Samuel had always lived on an island. Maybe it would feel like home right away.

What did that mean-feel like home? He’d never had a home. He’d never had parents. At least, not parents he could remember. Daniel was kind of his parent. Even though they were the same age.

Thinking this gave Samuel a bad feeling in his stomach. What kind of parent was Daniel? Very bad.

Samuel heard a short cry and a splash outside.

Oh no. Please, no.

A few seconds passed. Samuel sat up as Daniel strode back into the shack. He ducked his head under the fishing nets and dropped onto the cot. His face was a total blank. Eyes dull and lips pressed tightly together.

“What about Ikey?” Samuel’s voice came out shrill and tight. “Did you explain? What did you tell him?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Daniel said without any emotion.

“But what did you say? What did you tell him?”

Daniel shrugged. That strange smile played over his face again. “No more Ikey,” he said. His mouth did a strange quiver. Like a tic.

“Huh? No more Ikey? What do you mean?”

Daniel’s smile grew wider. “No worries.”

“But, Daniel-” Samuel couldn’t find the words.

“No more Ikey,” Daniel repeated in a singsong.

Samuel peered out the doorway to the dock. The dock was empty now. No boy sitting at the end. No fishing pole.

“No more Ikey,” Daniel said. “So, no worries. Come on, bruvver.” He jumped up and, putting a hand on Samuel’s shoulder, guided him outside. “Big smiles now. Come on. Sweet smiles. Sweet. Be excited, lad. Let’s go tell our new mum how excited we are.”

PART TWO 17

Here he was at the Bay Street Theatre, just across from the bay in Sag Harbor, Andy Pavano and Vince’s cousin Cora, in town from Bath, a little town in Maine, where she waitressed at a barbecue restaurant and took classes at Bowdoin, studying for a degree in social work.

Andy got all that info in the first five minutes when he picked her up at Vince’s house and drove into town on a foggy, drizzly Saturday night. She talked quickly, with a slight Maine accent he hadn’t heard much before, and kept tapping his shoulder as she talked, as if trying to keep his attention.

Cora wasn’t bad-looking. She had sort of a bird-beak nose, but her eyes were round and pretty. She had the kind of smile that showed her gums, a toothy smile Andy liked. She was small and girlish-except for her truck-driver laugh, he thought. But maybe she just laughed like that because she was nervous. She said she’d never been out with a cop before.

“It’s not really a date,” he said. “Vince just thought we’d have fun together.” Then he felt like a total dork for saying that. He could feel his face grow hot, but she didn’t seem to notice.

She had to be five or ten years younger than him. Thirty maybe. She dressed young, like a college girl, in black tights and a purple square-necked top that gathered at her waist and came down low like a skirt. She didn’t have much on top, he noticed. Her dark hair was short and layered.

Andy parked on the pier and they walked past a little lobster shack, closed for the night, and B. Smith’s, a large, bustling restaurant overlooking the bay. A crowd stood at the entrance, waiting for the outdoor tables. Enormous white yachts lined the pier along the side of the restaurant.