years of scarfing my rigatoni. On a Sunday like
this, I'd serve an antipasti and a pasta, two meats-
Eyes closed, Li begins quickly eating the cereal, with his
hands, from the box, no milk. He's got a way of chewing with
his whole head that Rose has never seen before. And Rose has
seen a whole lot of people eating.
"I'd go easy on that Fiberall," she warns.
He streaked across her lawn just as she made it out the backdoor, without falling. There goes the neighbor's huge black
lab, Blacky, off its leash again, she'd assumed. And though
she'd noticed his bark sounded odd, like a croup, she was too
distracted, thinking how the wretch had gone to pee in his favorite spot against her shower house. No point reasoning
with the owners, people so deeply unoriginal that they'd name
a black dog Blacky. Didn't they also want her property? Eager to
buy and tear down the place Paulie was born in to build something they called a solarium. Owning things others covet might
make some feel powerful, but it just filled Rose with fear.
In the distance, Ambrose lighthouse pulsed on, off, on, but
its usual soothing rhythm was jangled by searchlights roaming
the dark, chaotic waves. She could hear sirens. Screams? The
helicopter din made it hard to make out. Then that lumpy
policeman appeared, bouncing around the side of the house.
"What!" Rose snapped, clutching her sweatshirt closed.
She'd been hassled by the law once before, after starting a fire
on the beach. Had she really fallen, this officer would have
been the one to find her. Quite by accident, while coveting
the ivy climbing up her facade, the decorative inlaid tile, flowering shrubbery, large picture windows, his flashlight would
have suddenly illuminated what was left of her, Rose Camille
Maria Impoliteri. A shriveled, bloodied human carcass. An
ugly, used-up thing requiring removal. A nuisance.
"We were ringin' but you were out here, I guess," the policeman said, and only then remembered to flash a badge.
"O'Donnell."
Behind him, a second, trimmer uniform materialized. This
one trailing a nightstick along the beach wall and whacking
now and then at Rose's ornamental grasses. He looked so
much like an old classmate of Paulie's. Kevin? Kieran? But
then they all did. Those fair-haired Rockaway lifeguards and
rangers, cops, firefighters, Coast Guard; they could all pass
for larger versions of the St. Francis High School bullies who
tagged her son "Guido" and "Greaseball Wop," "Guinnie Rat"
and "Zipperhead."
"Stop!" her frail voice failed to yell. "Why's he doin'
that?"
"Just checkin' around." O'Donnell smiled, still bouncing,
in place now. "You see anything unusual?
"Yeah. Over there, your partner beatin' on my plants."
"Any Chinese, I mean. Boat ran aground on a sandbar off a
Breezy," he explained. "The Golden Venture. Full of Chinese illegals. They're drownin' and runnin' so we're s'posed to check
around." With a couple more bounces for punctuation.
"I know about that," Rose said. "You need to use the men's
room?"
A genuine offer but O'Donnell ignored it. "Anyone else
wit ya here? Husband? Kids? Some kinda companion?"
Rose snapped. "What makes ya think that? I can take care
a myself! I am-"
Which is when Blacky started up barking again, barking
from inside the house next door, the same old bark she was
used to. So Blacky wasn't actually out there, Rose got around
to understanding. So it hadn't even been a dog that ran past
her just-
"Wait," she called uselessly. By the time her mind had gotten here, the two officers had set off to search the garage.
"Wait. You can't do that."
Her elbow throbbed and flamed from opening the door,
but still she followed.
"You can't do that! Wait!" Kicking off her flip-flops to try
and move faster. "No, I think you're not allowed to do that.
Without a warrant." Was this true? She hadn't the faintest
idea. All she knew for sure was, "This is my house!"
The backdoor sticks, the tile is scratched;
this, I'd serve an antipasti and a pasta, two meats-
Eyes closed, Li begins quickly eating the cereal, with his
hands, from the box, no milk. He's got a way of chewing with
his whole head that Rose has never seen before. And Rose has
seen a whole lot of people eating.
"I'd go easy on that Fiberall," she warns.
He streaked across her lawn just as she made it out the backdoor, without falling. There goes the neighbor's huge black
lab, Blacky, off its leash again, she'd assumed. And though
she'd noticed his bark sounded odd, like a croup, she was too
distracted, thinking how the wretch had gone to pee in his favorite spot against her shower house. No point reasoning
with the owners, people so deeply unoriginal that they'd name
a black dog Blacky. Didn't they also want her property? Eager to
buy and tear down the place Paulie was born in to build something they called a solarium. Owning things others covet might
make some feel powerful, but it just filled Rose with fear.
In the distance, Ambrose lighthouse pulsed on, off, on, but
its usual soothing rhythm was jangled by searchlights roaming
the dark, chaotic waves. She could hear sirens. Screams? The
helicopter din made it hard to make out. Then that lumpy
policeman appeared, bouncing around the side of the house.
"What!" Rose snapped, clutching her sweatshirt closed.
She'd been hassled by the law once before, after starting a fire
on the beach. Had she really fallen, this officer would have
been the one to find her. Quite by accident, while coveting
the ivy climbing up her facade, the decorative inlaid tile, flowering shrubbery, large picture windows, his flashlight would
have suddenly illuminated what was left of her, Rose Camille
Maria Impoliteri. A shriveled, bloodied human carcass. An
ugly, used-up thing requiring removal. A nuisance.
"We were ringin' but you were out here, I guess," the policeman said, and only then remembered to flash a badge.
"O'Donnell."
Behind him, a second, trimmer uniform materialized. This
one trailing a nightstick along the beach wall and whacking
now and then at Rose's ornamental grasses. He looked so
much like an old classmate of Paulie's. Kevin? Kieran? But
then they all did. Those fair-haired Rockaway lifeguards and
rangers, cops, firefighters, Coast Guard; they could all pass
for larger versions of the St. Francis High School bullies who
tagged her son "Guido" and "Greaseball Wop," "Guinnie Rat"
and "Zipperhead."
"Stop!" her frail voice failed to yell. "Why's he doin'
that?"
"Just checkin' around." O'Donnell smiled, still bouncing,
in place now. "You see anything unusual?
"Yeah. Over there, your partner beatin' on my plants."
"Any Chinese, I mean. Boat ran aground on a sandbar off a
Breezy," he explained. "The Golden Venture. Full of Chinese illegals. They're drownin' and runnin' so we're s'posed to check
around." With a couple more bounces for punctuation.
"I know about that," Rose said. "You need to use the men's
room?"
A genuine offer but O'Donnell ignored it. "Anyone else
wit ya here? Husband? Kids? Some kinda companion?"
Rose snapped. "What makes ya think that? I can take care
a myself! I am-"
Which is when Blacky started up barking again, barking
from inside the house next door, the same old bark she was
used to. So Blacky wasn't actually out there, Rose got around
to understanding. So it hadn't even been a dog that ran past
her just-
"Wait," she called uselessly. By the time her mind had gotten here, the two officers had set off to search the garage.
"Wait. You can't do that."
Her elbow throbbed and flamed from opening the door,
but still she followed.
"You can't do that! Wait!" Kicking off her flip-flops to try
and move faster. "No, I think you're not allowed to do that.
Without a warrant." Was this true? She hadn't the faintest
idea. All she knew for sure was, "This is my house!"
The backdoor sticks, the tile is scratched;
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