New York_ The Novel - Edward Rutherfurd [425]
They were just sitting quietly when the telephone rang.
“Hi, Gorham.” It was Juan. “Have you seen what’s going on?”
“How do you mean?”
“I guess it’s quiet down there on Park.”
“Pretty much.”
“Well, stay indoors, buddy. I discovered what happened, by the way. Lightning strikes destroyed some of the power grid—they have lights in New Jersey, but almost the entire five boroughs are down. Things are heating up in El Barrio, and if the lights don’t come on soon, there’s going to be a lot of action in Harlem tonight. I already saw one store broken into just up the street.”
“You mean there’s looting?”
“Of course there’s looting. The stores are full of things people want, and nobody can see what’s going on.” His voice sounded almost cheerful about it. “Gorham, if you had a bunch of kids and no money, you’d be looting too. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you to stay indoors. This could spread downtown as well, the way things are looking.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Well, I may go out and take a look. But this is home territory for me, if you know what I mean.”
“Stay out of harm’s way, Juan.”
“Don’t worry, Gorham, I will.”
Gorham hung up, and told Maggie what Juan had said.
“Maybe you’d better stay here,” he said. “There’s a spare bedroom.”
She gave him a cynical look. “Nice try.”
In normal circumstances, he supposed he might have made some careful moves to see which way the evening would go. He was starting to get really interested in Maggie, but now wasn’t the time.
“No,” he said quietly, “much as I like your company, Maggie, I wasn’t trying to make a move. What I am going to do, though, is take you safely to your door in a little while. If Juan thinks it could get rough out there, I’m not taking any chances.”
“Okay. That’s nice of you.”
They talked for a short while after that. He asked if he could give her a call, and she said yes, and gave him her number. Then he said he’d take her home. Before doing so he gave Juan a call to find out the latest, but there was no reply.
There weren’t any taxis on Park, so they started to walk up to Eighty-sixth. Everything was dark, and quiet, but staring up the wide avenue, they could see faint glows that suggested fires. They walked together without speaking, but when they got to Eighty-fourth, Maggie broke the silence.
“Something on your mind?”
“It’s nothing. Kind of stupid.”
“Let me guess. You were worried when Juan didn’t pick up.”
He turned to her in the darkness. He couldn’t really see her face.
“Actually, I was. Which is absurd. He knows El Barrio like the back of his hand.”
“Where does he live?”
“Right on Ninety-sixth and Lexington. It’s actually a doorman building.”
“After you leave me safe at Eighty-sixth, you’re going to go up to his place, aren’t you?”
“I was thinking of it, actually.”
“So.” She linked her arm in his. “Let’s go up there together.”
“You can’t come.”
“You can’t stop me.”
He looked at her in astonishment. “You are a strange woman, Miss O’Donnell.”
“You better believe it.”
When they got to the Ninety-sixth Street crossing, they had a view over a whole section of Spanish Harlem. The streets were quiet for the moment, but they could see several fires. They walked swiftly along to Juan’s building. The doorman had shut the door, but after shining a flashlight to inspect them, he opened it, and Gorham explained his mission.
“Mr. Campos didn’t go out again, sir, I can tell you that.” Gorham expressed relief. “Did you come here to visit him once before?” the doorman asked. Gorham replied that he had. “Well”—the doorman evidently decided that Gorham and Maggie looked respectable—“some of the tenants went up on the roof. He may be up there. The intercom isn’t working, but I can telephone his number if you have it, just in case he came back down.”
This time Juan picked up. He was amazed to find that Gorham was at his building.