AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What kind of fool notion is that?”
“It’s Evie,” Henry said as both explanation and apology. “That’s where they’re going with Isaiah. That’s what we should do. Get out of New York right now.”
Bill sucked some air through his teeth, thinking. “There’s a train leaving Penn Station for N’awlins in twenty minutes, and we need to be on it. We can make our way from there.”
Henry faltered. “Oh. New Orleans?”
“What I said. You got somethin’ against N’awlins?”
Henry pictured Belle Reve, his ancestral home in the Garden District of New Orleans, where he was raised. He pictured his cold and distant father reading his evening paper while the household moved around him, making sure he was not disturbed. He pictured his broken mother taking all the silver from the drawers while Flossie, their cook, tried to cajole her away from it and into a warm bath to calm her nerves. He remembered the disappointment on his father’s face when he’d discovered that his son was in love with a boy named Louis. He remembered his mother telling him to “fly away, little bird” as Henry slipped out of the house with only his suitcase.
“No,” he said at last.
“Good. ’Cause we ain’t got much choice in the matter. Anybody asks, this is my brother, Barnabas. He fainted at the memorial because of what them Diviners did. Nobody’s lookin’ for me and you. That’s the advantage we got.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’ll come around soon enough. Come on. Gotta move with a purpose now. Keep ya head down and don’t draw attention.”
Jericho and Ling had taken refuge in a darkened picture house near Times Square. “The picture’s already started,” the ticket booth man had told them as they bought two tickets before stealing into the back of the darkened theater. The picture was German. Something called Metropolis. For a moment, Jericho was mesmerized by the flickering screen and the sight of a robot transforming into a human woman. Instinctually, he put a hand to his chest where, beneath the skin, a configuration of machinelike parts, fueled by Marlowe’s special serum, kept his broken body functioning. For the first time in ten years, Jericho was without that serum. He took his hand from his pocket and made a fist. It was no trouble, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Did you see
any of the others?” Ling whispered.
“I lost them in the crowd.”
“Where do you think they are? What should we do? Go back to Sister—” Ling stopped as she realized that Sister Walker couldn’t help them. No one could. They would have to figure this out for themselves.
“I saw Evie in the crowd. She said we should go to Bountiful,” Jericho said.
“Nebraska?” Ling squeaked.
“Shhh!” a man in the back row scolded. Jericho and Ling scooted away from the entrance and back toward the lobby. “Nebraska is over a thousand miles from here. How are we going to get there?” Ling asked.
“Penn Station’s not that far.”
Ling shook her head. “They’ll be watching the train and bus stations.”
Jericho nodded, thought some more. “We could go back to the Bennington. Hide out in Will’s apartment till tomorrow and see if we can find any of the others.”
Ling grunted at him. “The Bennington is the first place the police will think to look.”
“Well, I’m sorry that I’m not as clever as you are,” Jericho said sarcastically.
“So am I,” Ling said, straightforward as ever.
“We just need a place to rest and think,” Jericho said.
Ling thought about Doyers Street and her family’s restaurant. It had always been the safest place she knew, but now the police would probably be on their way to the Tea House. She hated to imagine her parents’ stricken faces or the shame it would bring to them—and the danger. No. They couldn’t go there. But where was safety and someone they could trust to hide them?
“Alma,” Ling said.
“What about Alma?”
“No one knows about her. No one would look for us at her apartment. She’s leaving town tomorrow on the TOBA circuit—they book Negro acts into clubs across the country. They’ve got a bus. We could leave with them.”
Jericho raised an eyebrow. “How are we going to explain…? I don’t think anyone’s going to buy us as an act.”
