A tropical cyclone that formed over the Atlantic near Cuba makes landfall in New Jersey. Brooklyn is next, and Nathan is prepared. So is the city. The subway has been shut down, businesses have closed, the mayor has warned the city to stay inside. Stay safe. Nathan finishes his last hurricane-preparation blog post. He tells his readers that he’ll check in after. Now he must be with his daughters. Luckily, the unruly comments seem to have lost interest, and it’s only the faithful sending him messages of love and hope. Nathan writes back, And to you as well, and turns off the machine.
With the noise of the wind of the oncoming storm, he didn’t notice that his house had become quiet. Or perhaps he is now more accustomed to the quiet. Jane isn’t in the kitchen, where he left her; there’s only the open newspaper. He climbs from the first floor, shouting her name, to the second floor, to the third. He opens Ginny’s bedroom door to ask if she has seen her sister, and she isn’t there. He remembers that Ginny should be home by now. That’s what she promised.
Nathan has a panic attack in the hallway and sinks to his knees. He may throw up on the carpet. He opens his mouth and no sounds come out, even though they need to. He must call for his daughters again, because they must be in the house. There is no other option. Get up, he thinks, get up.
Nathan retraces his steps, looking into each room again, looking for his daughters in impossibly small places. He asks if they are hiding from him deliberately, and if so, can they please not. They’re scaring him. He returns to the kitchen and watches the rain stop. The air outside becomes still like the air in the house. Nathan is in a lot of trouble. The phone rings.
“I’ve got someone here,” Anna tells a panting Nathan. “In my car. I’m bringing her home.”
“Jane?”
“No, Ginny,” Anna says, a little confused. “You’ve lost Jane too?”
“No, no, but thank you. Why do you have Ginny?”
“We will discuss that later.”
Nathan places his hand over his chest, but his eyes open wide again.
“You shouldn’t be driving,” he says. “The hurricane.”
“Didn’t you hear? They downgraded it to a tropical storm and it’s headed for Massachusetts. New York is in paralysis for a little wind and rain. It’s quite funny.”
Nathan leans over the kitchen table and looks at the open newspaper. It’s the article about the body of the missing boy. His daughter has scribbled over the article with a red Sharpie. He reaches for his phone and calls Denise. He hasn’t heard from her since his email, but he needs help.
As the phone rings he paces the first floor, and Denise sends his call to voicemail. Nathan hangs up. He stops in front of his family desktop and sees that Jane has sought directions to Coney Island.
Nathan moves to his foyer, heart pounding, and slips his feet into his running shoes, which he has not worn in a long time. He moves to the door but remembers that he told Anna he would wait for Ginny to be returned. He freezes at the door, knowing that a plan is needed. He must act.
Questions About God
Ginny sits in the front seat of Anna’s BMW, still stoned. Anna drops the couple off at Chloe’s mother’s place, Rafi looking miserable to be joining his girlfriend. Anna assumes that he was having a good time being the oldest, acting as the authority figure to two pubescent girls. With his peers, Rafi is probably not much of an alpha. He plays video games and never speaks to girls his own age. Anna guesses that Rafi won’t change and will always seek out younger girls. It’s funny to see that sort of behavior in its nascence.
The hall master was the one who called Anna about Ginny. The hall master wanted to go home but couldn’t find the teenager. Anna lives close to the school, but also told the hall master to let her know about anything concerning the Palm girls. Anna has made this discreet request to several people in the school, ranging from lunch ladies to deans. The hall master was the only one to come through with something truly helpful, and Anna classifies the hall master in her brain as a competent woman. She’ll remember her, possibly at Christmas.
She wants to ask Ginny what she was doing in the church—her church, as she’s come to think of it. After all, it was her idea to renovate the decrepit building into the new science wing. She walked up and down the center aisle with an architect, a contractor, and the principal. She wore a hard hat and discussed her vision for the space. The architect and the contractor balked at some of her suggestions, but when the blueprints arrived, they’d mostly accepted them. So this was her church, and there was Ginny Palm at the altar, standing on a desk, her arms stretched out theatrically, and she was laughing. When the flashlight shone into Chloe’s and Rafi’s faces, all Anna saw was adolescent fear; they didn’t want to be in trouble. Ginny, however, looked up at the sky. She lifted her arms as if she were conducting an orchestra, and brought them down again, concluding the concerto. Anna doesn’t want to read too much into it, but the rain stopped. She had to pull Ginny off the desk and walk her to the exit.
It occurs to Anna that she is angry with Ginny on a personal level for desecrating this space. Upon further reflection, she is also angry with Ginny for her mother’s behavior, which has put the Wing Initiative in jeopardy. Anna breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth and reminds herself to be generous. She tries to imagine what led Ginny to coerce her friends into joining her in trespass. Anna breathes yogic breaths and empathizes mindfully with young Ginny Palm.
“Ginny. Do you have questions about God?” she asks. “Is that why you were in the church?”
Ginny looks at Anna, confused. “What?”
“God, Ginny. Sometimes in times of trouble, religion, or spirituality, or…” Anna trails off because Ginny is looking at her as if she’s insane. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
Ginny plays with her cuticles and says, “No, I have no questions about God.”
“That’s fine. Is there anything you want to talk about?”
“You mean, do I want to talk about my mother? You mean, do I want to talk about where my mother might be? Or do you mean, should I talk about what my mother did?”
“Do you know where she is?”
Ginny shakes her head. Anna tries to feel sorry for the stoned girl even though she is being so rude. It can be difficult to be high and depressed and thirteen.
“I’m sure she misses you.”
Ginny laughs, raises her arms, and cries, “Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” Anna almost swerves into incoming traffic as she avoids Ginny’s outstretched left arm. “Praise Jesus!” Ginny cries.
The Detective Reaches the End of His Rope
The detective gets a call on his cell from Nathan, who stammers that he’s sorry to trouble him but his daughter has run away.
The detective asks, “Where do you think Ginny might be?”