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I hopped out of bed. “I’ll ask Deacon if he wants some tea, too.”
“He won’t.”
Deacon didn’t want tea, but he did ask, politely, if I could bring him some microwaved pizza rolls on the way back. I brought him his food while Maggie mouthed mom jokes behind my back.
She and I returned to her room, and we propped up her laptop on the bed between us, cups of warm tea balanced on our knees. We got to looking.
After a few hours, nothing had come of our searches. Maggie reassured me that we could keep searching, since more apartments would become available with every week.
I appreciated her reassurance, but I found that I hadn’t really needed it. In fact, I felt better than when we’d started.
I had practiced hoping and it hadn’t hurt at all.
It was only a little progress, but I would take what I could get.
CHAPTER19
CARTER
Ileaned my head on my hand, pausing in typing up what must have been the twentieth email. I normally didn’t ascribe to the sentiment that Mondays were the worst day of the week, but this one was certainly living up to its expectation. Word had come around that the city government tended to cut yet more funding for the upkeep of Staten Island. Where they intended to funnel that extra money to, we could so far only guess. I imagined the officials planned to give themselves raises on the down low, whilst pretending to send the funds to one of the more favored boroughs.
As I was the wealthiest and most politically active man on the whole island, I had the chance to represent the island and the other Staten natives. The emails I had been writing today fell into one of two categories. The first, I responded to concerned public figures, informing them that I intended to do my best; this was the easiest and also the hardest of the two categories, somehow. I knew I would indeed try as hard as I could, but I also knew I could make no promises. Nothing was certain in this world. Staten Island would always struggle to be included and the fight was not always going to be won.
The other emails I wrote were to figures on the city board. The words flowed with passion. I knew them by heart even as they emerged for the first time, as they were a remix of things I had said in the past. My arguments would always be the same. Staten Island could be so much more. Something needed to be done and that thing was not cutting funding, or else soon Staten Island would be a sort of Australia. That particular isolated, island country had been born as a result of other places sending their criminals there. Did NYC really want an island full of gangsters and drug dealers, or did it want an idyllic paradise that brought in good people, good jobs, good money?
The officials just needed reminding, that was all. As per usual.
A knock came at my office door. I swiveled in my chair and nodded to Brian as he entered. He looked as unhappy as I felt. He peered at my computer screen and tutted.
I frowned, scanning through my email draft. “Something wrong with it? Be kind of a bummer if there was. I’ve already sent out tons like it.”
“No, it’s not that.” Brian sat down with a groan. “I think it’s ridiculous this has to be done every single damn year. Maybe Staten Island should just annex itself, be its own city.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” I conceded. “Though I doubt it’s one that would go far. Pretty much the only reason this place is still afloat is because we’re vaguely attached to the rest.”
“Well, actually, it’s afloat because it’s an island.”
I glared at him and then laughed. “Fair enough.”
Brian tapped his fingers on the edge of my desk. “So aside from those emails, what are you going to do?”
“I think it’s time we became more proactive.” I cracked my knuckles. “I’ve been thinking about forming a sort of board of representatives. A council of our own. We should start making a fuss so we can’t be forgotten any longer.”
“And who will be funding this board and its activities?” Brian asked pointedly.
I frowned. “You know I will be.”
“I know that you know that I know,” Brian said. “And I know you can afford it. And you know if you try to do something stupid, I’ll be around to give you a smack upside the head.”
“I could ask nothing more from my best friend. Is there something you needed, Brian?”
“More like something I wanted to ask. How was the party with you and Megyn?”
I pushed my computer away and told him all about it, including the mishap with Suzie, though I made it clear that Megyn and I had gone on to enjoy ourselves afterward.
Brian listened, smiling and laughing in all the right places. However, as soon as the story ended, his expression went right back to being serious. “You wouldn’t happen to be extra invested in this whole representation thing because of Megyn, are you?”
“You know I’ve always had an interest in this. It’s an investment. A passion project.” I clenched my hand into a fish and thumped it on my desk. “All the wonderful people who live here and create here, who thrive off the atmosphere, getting cast off to the side because they don’t make trouble, which in turn lets the trouble in. The city council would rather ignore us than help us, so all these wonderful places are crowded and left to fester.”
“He won’t.”
Deacon didn’t want tea, but he did ask, politely, if I could bring him some microwaved pizza rolls on the way back. I brought him his food while Maggie mouthed mom jokes behind my back.
She and I returned to her room, and we propped up her laptop on the bed between us, cups of warm tea balanced on our knees. We got to looking.
After a few hours, nothing had come of our searches. Maggie reassured me that we could keep searching, since more apartments would become available with every week.
I appreciated her reassurance, but I found that I hadn’t really needed it. In fact, I felt better than when we’d started.
I had practiced hoping and it hadn’t hurt at all.
It was only a little progress, but I would take what I could get.
CHAPTER19
CARTER
Ileaned my head on my hand, pausing in typing up what must have been the twentieth email. I normally didn’t ascribe to the sentiment that Mondays were the worst day of the week, but this one was certainly living up to its expectation. Word had come around that the city government tended to cut yet more funding for the upkeep of Staten Island. Where they intended to funnel that extra money to, we could so far only guess. I imagined the officials planned to give themselves raises on the down low, whilst pretending to send the funds to one of the more favored boroughs.
As I was the wealthiest and most politically active man on the whole island, I had the chance to represent the island and the other Staten natives. The emails I had been writing today fell into one of two categories. The first, I responded to concerned public figures, informing them that I intended to do my best; this was the easiest and also the hardest of the two categories, somehow. I knew I would indeed try as hard as I could, but I also knew I could make no promises. Nothing was certain in this world. Staten Island would always struggle to be included and the fight was not always going to be won.
The other emails I wrote were to figures on the city board. The words flowed with passion. I knew them by heart even as they emerged for the first time, as they were a remix of things I had said in the past. My arguments would always be the same. Staten Island could be so much more. Something needed to be done and that thing was not cutting funding, or else soon Staten Island would be a sort of Australia. That particular isolated, island country had been born as a result of other places sending their criminals there. Did NYC really want an island full of gangsters and drug dealers, or did it want an idyllic paradise that brought in good people, good jobs, good money?
The officials just needed reminding, that was all. As per usual.
A knock came at my office door. I swiveled in my chair and nodded to Brian as he entered. He looked as unhappy as I felt. He peered at my computer screen and tutted.
I frowned, scanning through my email draft. “Something wrong with it? Be kind of a bummer if there was. I’ve already sent out tons like it.”
“No, it’s not that.” Brian sat down with a groan. “I think it’s ridiculous this has to be done every single damn year. Maybe Staten Island should just annex itself, be its own city.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” I conceded. “Though I doubt it’s one that would go far. Pretty much the only reason this place is still afloat is because we’re vaguely attached to the rest.”
“Well, actually, it’s afloat because it’s an island.”
I glared at him and then laughed. “Fair enough.”
Brian tapped his fingers on the edge of my desk. “So aside from those emails, what are you going to do?”
“I think it’s time we became more proactive.” I cracked my knuckles. “I’ve been thinking about forming a sort of board of representatives. A council of our own. We should start making a fuss so we can’t be forgotten any longer.”
“And who will be funding this board and its activities?” Brian asked pointedly.
I frowned. “You know I will be.”
“I know that you know that I know,” Brian said. “And I know you can afford it. And you know if you try to do something stupid, I’ll be around to give you a smack upside the head.”
“I could ask nothing more from my best friend. Is there something you needed, Brian?”
“More like something I wanted to ask. How was the party with you and Megyn?”
I pushed my computer away and told him all about it, including the mishap with Suzie, though I made it clear that Megyn and I had gone on to enjoy ourselves afterward.
Brian listened, smiling and laughing in all the right places. However, as soon as the story ended, his expression went right back to being serious. “You wouldn’t happen to be extra invested in this whole representation thing because of Megyn, are you?”
“You know I’ve always had an interest in this. It’s an investment. A passion project.” I clenched my hand into a fish and thumped it on my desk. “All the wonderful people who live here and create here, who thrive off the atmosphere, getting cast off to the side because they don’t make trouble, which in turn lets the trouble in. The city council would rather ignore us than help us, so all these wonderful places are crowded and left to fester.”
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