cups—were too stunned to look and too stunned to leave. Death was at
their feet, as a carnival tune played over the park speakers.
How bad is it? Sirens sounded. Men in uniforms arrived. Yellow tape
was stretched around the area. The arcade booths pulled down their
grates. The rides were closed indefinitely. Word spread across the beach
of the bad thing that had happened, and by sunset, Ruby Pier was
empty.
Today Is Eddie's Birthday
From his bedroom, even with the door closed, Eddie can smell the
beefsteak his mother is grilling with green peppers and sweet red
onions, a strong woody odor that he loves.
"Eddd-deee!" she yells from the kitchen. "Where are you? Everyone's
here!"
He rolls off the bed and puts away the comic book. He is 17 today,
too old for such things, but he still enjoys the idea—colorful heroes like
the Phantom, fighting the bad guys, saving the world. He has given his
collection to his school-aged cousins from Romania, who came to
America a few months earlier. Eddie's family met them at the docks
and they moved into the bedroom that Eddie shared with his brother,
Joe. The cousins cannot speak English, but they like comic books.
Anyhow, it gives Eddie an excuse to keep them around.
"There's the birthday boy," his mother crows when he rambles into
the room. He wears a button-down white shirt and a blue tie, which
pinches his muscular neck A grunt of hellos and raised beer glasses
come from the assembled visitors, family, friends, pier workers.
Eddie's father is playing cards in the corner, in a small cloud of cigar
smoke.
"Hey, Ma, guess what?" Joe yells out. "Eddie met a girl last night."
"Oooh. Did he?"
Eddie feels a rush of blood.
"Yeah. Said he's gonna marry her."
"Shut yer trap," Eddie says to Joe.