I sighed and looked down. I didn’t know what she’d been through. I had a bag of chocolate in my hand that we’d scrounged up at one of the empty stores. I had been saving it for Ale, for when he got back from playing in the lobby with the other kids. Some of them spoke Spanish, and he’d been chattering away with them. It made me so happy to see him coming to life after the state we’d found him in. Her kids had been mostly locked away in the apartment she’d claimed. I knelt down and smiled at one of the kids who was peeking around his mom’s legs.

“Here,” I said, handing him the chocolate. “This is for you.”

The kid looked so damn happy. He ran off with the other kid and I could see them tear the bag open in the dimness of the room.

When I stood back up, Drusilla had tears in her eyes.

“Why are you people being so good to us?” she almost whispered.

I shrugged. “We’re all in this together,” I said. I could smell the sweat on both of us. The unwashed hair and bodies and clothes, cleaned as best we could with what water we had, what sanitary wipes. I leaned in and hugged her tight. At first she resisted, but then she loosened up like a rag doll in my arms and cried.

Part Eight Evann—January

PART EIGHT

EVANN—JANUARY

1 I was really depressed after I left my apartment. I went to stay at my dad’s house in-state, but even there all I did was mope around. There was nothing fabuleux about the parties friends invited me to, there was nothing chou about my dad’s big house, there was just nothing. Pollock knew how depressed I was. My dad refused to walk him, saying he was my responsibility, but I knew it was because he didn’t want me lying around depressed all the time. Pollock wouldn’t let me be too sad for too long. His little face, his dark eyes, his black nose, his little underbite, the happy little grunts he made—they all kept me going sometimes.

I started sort-of making plans to move to Allentown. But people who I know who know a lot were saying that it was over already, that all the good artists had moved out once other people started moving there and they had to start worrying about paying more rent instead of just making art. Which was sad and made me feel even more down about everything. I still kind of looked into it, because lots of people wouldn’t know it was over for a long time, so it might be worthwhile to buy a house there to rent out. But in the end I didn’t have the heart to go through with all the planning. Nothing good lasts anywhere.