When

11-01-2014

    UNCLE DONNY DROVE UP TO POPLAR HOLLOW the next day, right after the FBI called him to say that they wanted to talk to me again. He arrived in his shiny BMW, wearing a black suit and gold tie. Donny always looks good, but today I could tell he’d put a little bit extra into his appearance. The sight of him looking so sharp and confident made me feel better. He walked me to the car after taking one look at Ma, who’d hit the bottle kind of hard the day before; even though it was nearly noon, she was still pretty groggy. Uncle Donny told her she’d better stay home.

    Once we were in the car, Donny turned to me and said, “How you doin’, kiddo?”

    I shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

   “No, really,” he pressed, his brow all furrowed and concerned. “How are you?”

    I almost laughed. It was ridiculous. “I’m fine, Donny. Can we please go?”

    But Donny didn’t start the car. Instead he glanced toward the house, then back at me. “You can always come live with me, you know,” he said in a serious tone.

    I swallowed hard. I loved Donny, but ever since my dad died, I’d had trouble with the city. In fact, it’d been one of the reasons Ma had moved us all the way out here. I’d started having panic attacks and couldn’t seem to concentrate at school. Some days in class I would shake so hard I couldn’t hold a pencil. Other times I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, and I’d nearly pass out.

    The minute we moved out of Brooklyn, leaving behind all the noise and people, I’d settled down. But it was hard for me to go into the city to visit Donny for even a day without the shakes and shortness of breath coming back. I couldn’t imagine going there to live again.

    Then there was Ma to consider. We were an hour and forty minutes by car outside of New York City, two and a half hours by train. I couldn’t leave Ma, because who’d get to her quickly if something bad happened?

    “Thanks, Donny,” I said, “but I’m okay.”

    Donny sighed and started the car, heading west.

    Poplar Hollow, Jupiter, Willow Mill, and Parkwick are all villages technically within the city of Grand Haven, New York. Mostly, the villages circle Grand Haven like planets in a solar system, and the distinctions between the villages are measured more by the sizes of the houses than anything else. Willow Mill is a step down from Poplar Hollow, and Jupiter is a step up, but you’d need a ladder to get into Parkwick. The rest of Grand Haven isn’t so grand, though, and most of us kinda thumb our noses at it. We all have our own school system with about a thousand kids in each high school, except that Grand Haven itself has two high schools—North and South—and they have at least two thousand kids in each. Both of their football teams clobber our team every year, but we usually stand a fighting chance against the other schools. Still, it seems we’re always duking it out with Jupiter for second-to-last place.

    Downtown Grand Haven is on the small side when you compare it to any other major city, especially New York, but every year it gets another few tall office buildings added to it. Now it even has two malls.

    The bureau offices are downtown, about a block away from the police station in a building that’s new and trendy. Not the kind of place you’d expect to find the FBI.

    Donny took up two slots in the parking garage so no one could park too close to his BMW, and then led the way to the stairs—he always takes the stairs—and we finally came out on the third floor. Donny’s footfalls were steady and sure as we wound our way through the maze of hallways. I was back on tiptoe.