<\/p>\n
I was sitting at the bottom of our stairs, deflecting sunbeams off a small hand mirror of my mother\u2019s. I was nine at this time, maybe ten. I remember that it was a hot cloudless summer morning. Across the street, the windows of the houses were glazed in sheens of bright light. Even where a window was open and the curtains drawn, someone could have been standing right there and you wouldn\u2019t have known it. I would angle the mirror, watching as beams from the glass struggled through the darkness, roving over the walls and ceilings, lighting up paintings, illuminating plants, chandeliers, photographs, cupboards, bookcases, and other interior details hidden in plain sight. Once, a face flashed directly behind the windowpane, but it was only Joaquim Botelho\u2019s mother, and, laughing, she raised a hand to shield her eyes and with the other waved at me to point the mirror away.<\/p>\n
Even though it was a nice summer day, no one was out yet and I was killing time. Tony Zucco was the first to appear. Most days he was the first one out. Tony was adventurous and brave, catching bees and wasps in a jar and going after birds and squirrels with his slingshot. We met when we were five. One afternoon I was downstairs playing in our neighbour\u2019s front yard when Tony came thundering by in a red Fire Chief pedal car. I\u2019d never seen anything like it and I ran out to get a better look. He showed me how it worked and let me have a spin without my asking. After that we were best friends.<\/p>\n
Seeing me from his yard, Tony came over and sat down next to me. He grabbed my mirror and aimed it at a running squirrel across the street. He followed it as it raced up the tree near the synagogue. Handing me back the mirror, he asked what we were doing today. I said I didn\u2019t know, I hadn\u2019t seen anyone yet. He suggested we play Battling Tops and I said it wasn\u2019t so much fun just the two of us, but we went up to my place, leaving the front door open in case anyone else came out. I returned the mirror to the vanity in my parents\u2019 bedroom and got the game from the closet in the double room. Then I went and closed the kitchen door. My parents were at work, but my uncle was sleeping in the back room. He worked at night and didn\u2019t get up till the afternoon.<\/p>\n
In the double room, Tony had set up the game on the floor, and as we started to play, he complained about Jimmy Gatakis. Like everyone, Tony called him Dimitraki. Though Jimmy wanted to be known as Jimmy, all the kids on the street, following the lead of the Greek kids, called him by the Greek diminutive his parents used. Often, when addressing him directly, they would coo the name in a high coddling voice in parody of his mother. You usually only ever saw Jimmy up on his balcony. His parents thought it was too dangerous to let him play on the street. St. Urbain was full of traffic and speeding cars. Every summer two or three kids would get hit.<\/p>\n
I myself had nothing against Jimmy. Now and then, his parents would come to our place and we would play together, and when my parents visited the Gatakises, I had to go with them. My parents had some sense of how the other kids treated Jimmy and I was under strict orders to be nice to him. I did my best, but Jimmy and I couldn\u2019t be friends because he was two years younger. Tony hated Jimmy. He saw more of him than the rest of us did. Their houses were next to each other and shared the back courtyard. Jimmy lived on the top floor of a triplex, his balcony overlooking Tony\u2019s backyard. On the ground floor of Jimmy\u2019s triplex lived a French family who often quarreled with the Gatakises, mostly because of Jimmy, who was always throwing things into their yard. He also threw things into Tony\u2019s yard and at Tony. He once landed a water balloon on Tony\u2019s head. And whenever he saw Tony, he would chant, \u201cTony baloney pizza and macaroni, Tony baloney pizza and macaroni.\u201d Sometimes he would chant the line over and over until Tony escaped into the house.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s something wrong with that kid,\u201d Tony said as we wound our tops.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s his parents\u2019 fault cause they never let him out,\u201d I reasoned.<\/p>\n
\u201cLucky for him. Cause if they did, he\u2019d get the shit beat out of him.\u201d The previous afternoon, Tony said he\u2019d had to leave his yard because Jimmy kept pelting grapes at him. \u201cI swear, I wanted to go up there and smash his face in.\u201d<\/p>\n
After some rounds of Battling Tops, Tony wanted to do something else.<\/p>\n
\u201cI got an idea,\u201d I said, though I didn\u2019t really. I\u2019d had the sudden impulse for an act of mischief.<\/p>\n
We put the game back in the box and I returned it to the closet. Then I went over to my desk in the double room, and as I started searching through the drawers, Tony crouched before my father\u2019s Telefunken stereo console and fiddled with the knobs and buttons. Turning on the receiver, he moved the needle back and forth until he found CKGM. It was playing \u201cABC\u201d by the Jackson Five. He came over by my desk to see what I was doing.<\/p>\n
I showed him the envelope in my hand. \u201cI thought we\u2019d send Dimitraki a mystery package,\u201d I explained.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s a mystery package?\u201d<\/p>\n
I held open the envelope, which so far contained three thumbtacks, a broken transparent Bic pen, and an old American penny with the profile of Abraham Lincoln on the front. Tony became excited. I was pleased to see him get into the spirit of the project.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh!\u201d he said, punching my arm. \u201cI got the perfect thing. Wait here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere you going?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI gotta go to my place, but I\u2019ll be right back,\u201d he said as he ran out the front door.<\/p>\n
I went into the kitchen to look for more things. When Tony got back, I was on the couch in the double room. He shut the front door, and then the vestibule door as well, and came into the double room. \u201cYou sure your uncle\u2019s asleep?\u201d he asked, looking around.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019d hear him if he was up.\u201d<\/p>\n
From the pocket of his shorts, he pulled out a small cardboard package and flipped open the top flap. Inside was a deck of miniature playing cards with photos of topless women.<\/p>\n
\u201cHoly shit!\u201d I said. \u201cWhere d\u2019you get these?\u201d<\/p>\n
He explained that he\u2019d snagged the pack two days earlier in the claw vending machine at the corner store. \u201cSecond try!\u201d he boasted.<\/p>\n
I examined the cards one by one while Tony picked up the envelope from the coffee table and looked inside. To the thumb tacks, the pen, and the penny, I added a popsicle stick, a couple of cellophane-wrapped candies, some dry lima beans, a wooden match, and a red plastic comb. Tony took out the penny and examined it.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know this could be worth something,\u201d he said, pointing out the 1952 on the front.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou want it?\u201d I replied. I wasn\u2019t into coins.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou mind?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cKeep it,\u201d I said, getting up and going to my parents\u2019 bedroom, where I got a penny from the bowl of coins on the bureau. This one was Canadian and fairly recent, from 1969. I didn\u2019t know why I felt I needed to get another penny, but once I\u2019d put the first one in, it felt necessary. I sat back down beside Tony and dropped the replacement penny in the envelope.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m putting these,\u201d Tony said, showing me three of the naked cards before tossing them in the envelope.<\/p>\n
Already I was squirming and giggling with delight. What a brilliant idea this was turning out to be! I loved the sheer randomness and stupidity of it. I had a penchant for the absurd and took enormous pleasure in the nonsensical.<\/p>\n
As I examined the contents of the envelope one more time, Tony said, \u201cWe should write something.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes!\u201d I said excitedly and ran back to my desk. \u201cGreat idea!\u201d<\/p>\n
I came back with a pen and notepad. Without consulting Tony, I bent over the coffee table and printed out in large upright letters:<\/p>\n
To Jimmy Gatakis,<\/em><\/p>\n We know what you\u2019re doing and we\u2019re watching you. You have been a bad boy. So you better watch out. And you better not cry!<\/em><\/p>\n I showed what I\u2019d written to Tony and he grinned gleefully. \u201cBut you should write it to Dimitraki, not Jimmy Gatakis.\u201d<\/p>\n I looked at him. \u201cThen he\u2019ll know it\u2019s us,\u201d I said. I was disappointed in him. Tony thought about what I\u2019d said, and the change in his expression seemed to suggest he was picking up on the drift of what we were up to. <\/p>\n I looked again at what I\u2019d written and had another idea. I bent over the coffee table, and beneath the sentences I\u2019d already written, I added the word Signed<\/em>, and then below that, The Jews<\/em>.<\/p>\n Tony looked at what I\u2019d written and slapped his knee. \u201cThat\u2019s perfect,\u201d he said, picking up the notepad.<\/p>\n \u201cShould we put anything else inside the envelope?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n \u201cNo. Let\u2019s go.\u201d He tore the sheet from the notepad and handed it to me. \u201cJust put it in and let\u2019s go put it in his door.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho\u2019s gonna do it?\u201d I said after I\u2019d sealed the envelope. I wrote Jimmy Gatakis<\/em> on the front. \u201cI think only one of us should go so we don\u2019t draw attention.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll do it,\u201d Tony replied right away.<\/p>\n We went back out and sat on my stairs and cased the street. Up toward Fausto Grassi\u2019s place, the Mendoza sisters and Rosa Grassi were skipping rope, but otherwise the street was quiet. I took a seat on one of the lower steps and examined the balconies and windows of Jimmy\u2019s building. I looked up and down the street. Then I looked over at Tony and nodded to him. He walked casually to Jimmy\u2019s house and went up the stairs. I couldn\u2019t see the envelope in his hands. When he reached the top of the stairs, he stood against the door and peered through the window. Then he sidled over and looked through the Perreiras\u2019 door. I was baffled at first but then realized it was a piece of subterfuge. I hadn\u2019t seen what he\u2019d done with the envelope, and was worried he\u2019d spotted something and abandoned the plan.<\/p>\n When he turned and went down the stairs, I ran back across to my place.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat happened?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019s the envelope?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI put it in.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo way! Are you serious? I didn\u2019t even see you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat was the idea.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat was fantastic. I didn\u2019t see anything. I couldn\u2019t even see it in your hand.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI had it in here.\u201d He lifted his shirt to reveal the waistband of his shorts.<\/p>\n \u201cI couldn\u2019t see you take it out. Or even put it through the door. You\u2019re a virtuoso.\u201d<\/p>\n We sat on the bottom steps and imagined together the various scenarios that might be unfolding in the Gatakis household that morning. Restless and jumpy, we wrestled on the sidewalk.<\/p>\n That was when Peter Liakos came out. His house was next to mine, and climbing over his bannister, he leapt the gap onto my staircase and sat down on one of the top steps and watched us. This was a typical move. I hated the way Peter had of insinuating himself into any scene and situation and trying to dominate it. He always had to make his presence felt, especially, it seemed, when he wasn\u2019t wanted. It was one of the most annoying things about him.<\/p>\n Tony and I uncoupled and got to our feet. Instantly Peter leapt up and ran down the stairs and picked something off the sidewalk.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, that\u2019s mine,\u201d Tony shouted. It was the pack of mini-cards.<\/p>\n Peter turned away and started opening the pack.<\/p>\n \u201cGive it back,\u201d Tony said extending an arm.<\/p>\n \u201cWhoa! Naked pictures! Does your mother know you have these?\u201d<\/p>\n Peter shuffled through the cards while running and dodging Tony. He ran into the street and the two were separated by a parked car.<\/p>\n \u201cI swear, you better give those back to me right now,\u201d Tony shouted over the car\u2019s hood. \u201cI\u2019ll show them to you later. Now\u2019s not the time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPanayoti!\u201d called out a woman\u2019s voice.<\/p>\n Even in profile I could see the look of terror on Tony\u2019s face as he looked up to see Dimitraki\u2019s mother on her balcony. He turned back to Peter. \u201cI\u2019m fucking serious,\u201d he hissed. \u201cGive those back to me right now or I\u2019ll fucken clobber you.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter was not one to relent, but perhaps because of the presence of Dimitraki\u2019s mother, or perhaps he knew Tony wasn\u2019t kidding and could easily take him, he gave back the cards. He even had the sense to walk behind the car and slip them to Tony surreptitiously. Generally Peter was impervious to important life lessons, but the previous summer, during a baseball game, he\u2019d pushed Tony too far with his taunts, and, having ended up with a bloody nose, he seemed at least to have learned that one.<\/p>\n \u201cPanayoti, come here,\u201d shouted Dimitraki\u2019s mother. \u201cI want to talk to you.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter went and stood under the balcony while Tony came over and joined me by my stairs.<\/p>\n \u201cDid you put something in our door today?\u201d asked Dimitraki\u2019s mother. Tony and I were obscured behind the tree in front of Peter\u2019s house, but we could hear her clearly.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Peter replied.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is she saying?\u201d asked Tony.<\/p>\n \u201cWait,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you sure?\u201d said Dimitraki\u2019s mother.<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about those two?\u201d<\/p>\n Peter glanced at us and I walked toward the curb so Dimitraki\u2019s mother didn\u2019t think we were trying to hide.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d Tony whispered.<\/p>\n \u201cOr\u00edsteh, K\u00fdra L\u00e9ni<\/em>,\u201d I shouted up to Dimitraki\u2019s mother. \u201cYou want to talk to us?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid you by any chance drop something through our door today?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d I said as innocently as I could.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you sure?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about your friend?\u201d<\/p>\n I actually turned to Tony and said, \u201cDid you put anything in Jimmy\u2019s door today?\u201d<\/p>\n He grimaced.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d I shouted up to Jimmy\u2019s mother. \u201cHe says no.\u201d \u201cIt wasn\u2019t me,\u201d said Peter, turning away.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry, Kyra Leni,\u201d I said. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t us.\u201d<\/p>\n As Peter and I headed back toward my stairs, Peter whispered \u201cDid you guys put something in her mail?\u201d<\/p>\n Before I could say anything, Tony was flashing Peter the pack of mini-cards. I looked at him.<\/p>\n \u201cYou put those cards in?\u201d Peter said excitedly.<\/p>\n \u201cJust three of them. We put other stuff in, too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTony!\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cLike what?\u201d Peter asked, getting even more excited.<\/p>\n \u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter,\u201d I answered. \u201cLook, no one can know about this, OK. You can\u2019t fucken tell anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n I couldn\u2019t understand Tony. Peter was one of the most unreliable humans in the world and this was exactly the sort of thing he wouldn\u2019t hesitate to use against us. He could blackmail us with it for years, and Tony should have known that.<\/p>\n Even as I was thinking these thoughts, Tony said, \u201cHe wrote a note.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat the fuck!\u201d I cried.<\/p>\n \u201cHe signed it from the Jews and said that they were watching Dimitraki and he was in big trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d Peter howled, gazing at me with gleeful incredulity.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s not what it said,\u201d I replied. I turned to Peter. \u201cPeter, I\u2019m not joking. You can\u2019t tell anyone about this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho\u2019m I gonna tell?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m fucking serious, man. You have to promise. You have to swear on your mother\u2019s life.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not gonna tell.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou have to promise.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n \u201cOh my God,\u201d I cried, \u201che\u2019s gonna fucken tell!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not gonna tell. Relax.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo promise.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI promise.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou have to promise on your mother\u2019s life!\u201d I wailed.<\/p>\n Peter rolled his eyes. In a bored, apathetic tone, he said, \u201cI promise on my mother\u2019s life.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou promise what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat I won\u2019t tell anyone about the note you put in Dimitraki\u2019s mailbox.\u201d<\/p>\n I eyed him sternly. \u201cYou better remember those words.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI gotta go,\u201d Tony said.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d I said. I didn\u2019t want to be left alone with Peter Liakos.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s almost lunchtime. And I\u2019m hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n As Tony headed toward his place, I said, \u201cI\u2019m gonna go too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you doing later?\u201d Peter asked as a door slammed above us. We looked up and saw his grandmother and Maria, his little sister, coming out.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you have your key?\u201d Peter\u2019s grandmother asked in Greek. She was a small skinny woman and appeared hardly older than most of the mothers on the street.<\/p>\n \u201cI have it,\u201d Peter said.<\/p>\n Peter\u2019s grandmother shut the door and, taking Maria\u2019s hand, came down the stairs. \u201cWe\u2019re going to Voula\u2019s, I left a note for your father. Mam\u00e1<\/em> can call us there when she gets home. Or she can just come over. We can have dinner there if she wants. I think your father is working tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n Voula was Peter\u2019s aunt, his grandmother\u2019s other daughter. She lived on Waverly. There were also two sons, Peter\u2019s uncles, both still in Greece. Peter\u2019s father owned his own taxi and usually worked in the afternoons and evenings. His mother cleaned rich people\u2019s houses.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Peter said.<\/p>\n \u201cI think that\u2019s what he said. So if your mother feels like, we can have dinner at Voula\u2019s tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAll right.\u201d<\/p>\n Without even a hello to me, Peter\u2019s grandmother turned and headed with Maria down the street. My parents and the Liakoses were polite but not close. They didn\u2019t socialize, even though we lived right next door. The Liakoses hardly socialized with anyone on the street. They seemed to hang out mostly with their own relatives and some other people they knew on Waverly. Peter\u2019s parents were from a mountain village in the Peloponnese and people made fun of their accents and the way they behaved. Some people tisked at the fact that Peter\u2019s father was fifteen years older than his mother and had married her when she was sixteen. Her own mother married when she was even younger, apparently. People would also comment on the fact that Peter\u2019s grandmother didn\u2019t wear black even though she was a widow. There were all kinds of dark and cryptic murmurings about the Liakoses, and they seemed to be regarded generally with suspicion and disdain for reasons I didn\u2019t really understand. I knew one reason my parents weren\u2019t friends with them was that they were for the king.<\/p>\n \u201cAre we playing baseball today?\u201d Peter asked me.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know. If we get enough people. I haven\u2019t seen anyone yet.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s the perfect weather.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s kinda hot.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s perfect.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ll see,\u201d I said, heading up my stairs.<\/p>\n \u201cLet me know if you do anything later.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOK.\u201d<\/p>\n Shutting the door, I went straight to the double room and, standing several inches back from the lace curtain of the bay window, was relieved to see Peter going up his stairs. I watched until he\u2019d gone inside. What had I feared he would do? I had no idea. But seeing him go back into his place was a relief.<\/p>\n I went to the dining room and watched some Sesame Street<\/em> and then went to the kitchen. I heated up some of the chicken and krithar\u00e1ki<\/em> from the night before and made a salad with tomato and cucumber. I had to do it all very quietly because of my uncle. I had lunch in the dining room while watching TV. When I was done, I put the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. Just as I was about to go to the front balcony to see if there was anyone out, the doorbell rang.<\/p>\n Even through the curtain on the front door, I recognized the top of Tony\u2019s head. He was seated on one of the middle steps and remained with his back to me as I went down the stairs. I had a feeling something was wrong even before I sat next to him and saw his face.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re not gonna believe this,\u201d he said. \u201cDimitraki\u2019s mother showed the letter to the French lady downstairs.\u201d<\/p>\n I went cold. \u201cHow do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI saw<\/em> them. She went down to the backyard to get her to translate. She even showed the letter to my mother, but she can\u2019t read English.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHoly shit.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe French lady told Dimitraki\u2019s mother she should never let her son out of the house. She told her the Jews were after him and she better make sure her door was locked and call the police.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re joking.\u201d<\/p>\n Tony shook his head gravely.<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s not gonna call the police.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s not gonna call the police for something like that<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe called all the other Greeks on the street to see if they got a letter too. She didn\u2019t call your place?\u201d<\/p>\n I was mute with terror.<\/p>\n \u201cDidn\u2019t she call your place?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cBut she knows my parents aren\u2019t home.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are we gonna do?\u201d<\/p>\n I sat quietly a long time, trying to think.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are we gonna do?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t believe she woulda called the police. I can\u2019t believe that\u2019s what the French lady told her to do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are we gonna do?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s there to do? I mean, even if she did call the police, what are they gonna do? They\u2019re not gonna take something like that seriously.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy not?\u201d \u201cHe\u2019s not gonna tell anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you joking? You can\u2019t trust him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s not gonna . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Tony was staring past my shoulder and I turned and saw a police car coming down the street. We kept our eyes on it, and I felt my insides turn as it slowed down and then, rolling past us, pulled into the parking space in front of Dimitraki\u2019s house.<\/p>\n \u201cHoly fuck, Tony,\u201d I whimpered. \u201cWhat are we gonna do?\u201d<\/p>\n We watched silently as two cops got out of the car and gazed up at the house. After exchanging some words, they started up the stairs.<\/p>\n I glanced up and down the street and saw Joe Fuentes and Toto Sansotta approaching from the other direction, Toto bouncing a volleyball. I could see them spot the police car, and as they stopped before us, Toto held the ball by his side and said, \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey just got here,\u201d Tony replied. \u201cThey went up to Dimitraki\u2019s place.\u201d<\/p>\n I wanted to sock him one. Why did he always provide information no one asked for?<\/p>\n \u201cListen, we\u2019re meeting Rui and Pants in the lane for dodgeball,\u201d Toto said. \u201cWanna come?\u201d<\/p>\n I looked over at Tony. \u201cNot me,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe later,\u201d said Tony. \u201cHow long you gonna be there?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI dunno.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you doing later?\u201d<\/p>\n Toto looked at Joe and they shrugged. \u201cNo plans.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCome on, let\u2019s go,\u201d Joe said grabbing the ball.<\/p>\n \u201cSee you later,\u201d Toto said, running after him. <\/p>\n Tony and I sat in silence, but it wasn\u2019t long before the cops came back out. We could only see them when they got near the bottom of the stairs because of the tree. When they reached the sidewalk, they turned and went into the French lady\u2019s yard.<\/p>\n Tony looked at me. \u201cShould we stay here?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI think I\u2019m gonna go home.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat might look suspicious.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo let\u2019s go to the lane.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not in the mood.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut let\u2019s not stay here. I don\u2019t wanna have to talk to them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m just worried that it\u2019s gonna look suspicious if we suddenly disappear.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t wanna have to talk to them.\u201d<\/p>\n The look on Tony\u2019s face worried me. If he looked like that with the cops, we would be in trouble.<\/p>\n \u201cLook,\u201d I said, \u201cwhatever happens, we don\u2019t know anything. We don\u2019t know about any note. We don\u2019t know what they\u2019re talking about. They have no way of putting this on us.\u201d<\/p>\n The cops came back out and stood by their car and talked. I couldn\u2019t help noticing their guns, or the envelope one of them was holding.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t stare at them,\u201d I said. \u201cTony, look at me. Let\u2019s talk.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you want me to say?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnything. Act like we don\u2019t care they\u2019re there.\u201d<\/p>\n I saw one of the cops glance at us.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are they doing?\u201d Tony said.<\/p>\n I started laughing.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s so funny?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNothing. Just act like we\u2019re joking around.\u201d<\/p>\n Tony continued to stare at me grimly. Past his shoulder, I could see the cops walk around their car and then cross the street to the synagogue.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t believe this,\u201d I said. \u201cThey\u2019re actually going over to the Jews. Do they really believe they sent that letter?\u201d<\/p>\n The Jews were what we called the Hasids. They were a large presence in the neighbourhood, and for us, in those days, they were not just \u201cthe Jews\u201d but the image of Jews generally. I don\u2019t remember exactly when I learned that not all Jews resembled these aloof bat-like men, but it hadn\u2019t happened yet.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t believe this,\u201d I muttered as the cops climbed the steps of the synagogue and knocked on the door. Without waiting, they opened the door and went inside.<\/p>\n Tony got up. \u201cI\u2019m going home.\u201d<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t wait for me to answer, and I watched silently as he headed down the street. I remained on my steps, staring at the synagogue. After about ten minutes, I couldn\u2019t bear it any longer and got up. What were they doing in there? What could they possibly be talking about?<\/p>\n I went down the street, and as I passed the synagogue, I made sure not to look in its direction in case I could be seen from inside. When I reached the corner, I took a quick glance back at it but the cops hadn\u2019t reappeared. What could they be doing in there?<\/p>\n Turning into the lane, I could see everyone up near Joe\u2019s house. Besides Joe and Toto, there was Rui Garcia and Frank Pantalone, as well as Rui\u2019s sister Fatima. And, of course, there was Peter Liakos. The little prick. He\u2019d probably heard them from inside his house and of course had immediately gone and joined them. I wondered if he knew nobody liked him. My suspicion was not only that he knew but that it was what motivated some of his obnoxious behaviour. Sometimes I had the impression that he got some perverse satisfaction from flouting and annoying everyone.<\/p>\n They were already in the middle of a game, and I found a patch of pavement free of dogshit and broken glass and sat down, my back against a plank fence.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019s Tony?\u201d Joe asked.<\/p>\n \u201cHe went home.\u201d<\/p>\n When the game ended, Toto asked whether someone wanted to sit the next one out so I could play, but I said I wasn\u2019t in the mood. Rui volunteered and tried to get me to change my mind, but I wouldn\u2019t. After the next game, he insisted he needed to take a break, so to keep the teams even, I agreed to play.<\/p>\n After that, people took turns sitting out, so I played a couple of games. Chasing down the ball near the end of the third, I glanced up to see a figure shuffling toward us. Only after a closer look did I realize it was Peter\u2019s father. He was in his plastic house slippers and had on a white undershirt and a pair of loose ill-fitting grey trousers. Stopping a few feet away from us, he motioned to Peter and called him by his English name, presumably in some kind of nod to the rest of us. As Peter went by me, his father pointed at me and said, in Greek, \u201cYou too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMe?\u201d I said, and he nodded wearily. As he turned down the alley, I saw that one side of his undershirt was snagged in the waistband of his boxers, sitting well above his trousers. Peter was ahead of me, and catching up with him, I whispered, \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he said, the look on his face offering no reassurance.<\/p>\n We crossed the backyard of Peter\u2019s house, and his father stood by the open door of the stairwell to let us go in ahead of him. Peter went in first and we both kept our heads down as we passed by his father. I heard the door shut behind us, and we climbed up the dank dark narrow stairwell, which smelled of sodden wood and earth and rot. The whole structure creaked, and some of the steps were weak and flexed under our feet. Peter\u2019s apartment was on the third floor and it was a long unnerving climb.<\/p>\n Inside the shed, Peter stopped and I waited beside him as his father shut the door. He went ahead of us and we followed him into the kitchen, where he motioned to us to sit down. Peter sat facing the refrigerator and I sat adjacent to him, my back to the balcony. The balcony door was open and I could hear Toto and the others in the alley. The table had a cream-coloured tablecloth with a pattern of red and yellow flowers, and over the tablecloth was a clear plastic covering. At the other end of the table stood a fluted sugar jar and an ashtray with some butts in it. Above the sink was the same Stavridis Brothers Supermarket calendar that hung on our own wall. For some reason, I was surprised by how clean and tidy the Liakoses\u2019 kitchen was, as was, from what I could see through the doorway behind Peter, the living room.<\/p>\n Peter\u2019s father opened the fridge and, pulling out a Labatt 50, said to me, \u201cYou want one?\u201d I assumed he was joking and didn\u2019t respond. His tone was so deadpan, though, I wasn\u2019t sure how to take it. \u201cOr do you just stick to glue,\u201d he said as he sat down opposite Peter and poured the beer into a glass. This too he said in a serious tone. Did he really think his son\u2019s friends were glue-sniffers? Why would he let him hang out with us?<\/p>\n He pulled over the ashtray and lit a cigarette. My heart leapt at his next remark.<\/p>\n \u201cSo I got a call from Mrs. Gataki half an hour ago,\u201d he said, looking only at Peter. \u201cShe\u2019d just spoken with her Italian neighbour, your friend Tony\u2019s mother, and she told me what happened this morning. You want to give me your version?\u201d<\/p>\n I glanced over at Peter, who managed to hold his father\u2019s gaze, though he remained silent.<\/p>\n \u201cPanayoti had nothing to do with this,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n Peter\u2019s father had just picked up his glass. His hand pausing midair, he slowly turned toward me. \u201cYou\u2019ll get your chance to speak,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m talking to Panayoti now.\u201d He turned back to Peter and gulped down some beer. \u201cGo on,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cI only heard about it later from them,\u201d Peter said, pointing at me diffidently.<\/p>\n \u201cHeard about what?\u201d Peter\u2019s father said, licking foam from his lips.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat they did to Dimitraki.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd what was that?\u201d<\/p>\n There was a long silence.<\/p>\n \u201cI only know what I heard from them,\u201d Peter said.<\/p>\n His father stared at him while fingering the small gold crucifix at this chest. His face and arms glistened with sweat. \u201cI\u2019m waiting,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cSo, I don\u2019t know exactly what happened . . . because I was inside the house, and . . . when I went out, he and Tony, they were sitting on the stairs, and they told me they\u2019d put a letter in Dimitraki\u2019s door and the letter said it was from the Jews and that they were angry at Dimitraki and that his mother better watch out because they were going to go after him.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter\u2019s father made a short wet sound, as though sucking on the inside of his cheek. He lifted a corner of his mouth, flashing a gold tooth. \u201cGo on,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s all I know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s all?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter\u2019s father adjusted himself in his chair and crossed his legs. \u201cYou\u2019re sure,\u201d he said, taking a haul on his cigarette. \u201cThere\u2019s no details you\u2019re leaving out?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh . . . \u201d Peter gazed down at his lap. \u201cThey also put some other things in the envelope.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat things?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey put in some pictures of naked women.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat was that?\u201d<\/p>\n Peter lifted his head and said louder, \u201cThey put in some pictures of naked women.\u201d<\/p>\n His father raised his eyebrows, as though impressed by this detail. \u201cAnd where did you get these pictures?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know where they got them. I only came out after\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Liako,\u201d I interrupted, \u201cPanayoti had nothing to do with any of this. The pictures were Tony\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter\u2019s father again revolved his head slowly and gave me a cold stare. \u201cI told you. You\u2019ll have your turn.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut Panayoti only came out later. He didn\u2019t\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPanayoti can speak for himself.\u201d<\/p>\n I gazed down at the table, and he turned back to Peter.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat else?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n Peter remained silent a while. \u201cWhat else what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat happened next?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t know? You don\u2019t know what you did the rest of the day? After you sent the letter?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t send the letter.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow did you spend the rest of the day?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI came back up and had lunch with yay\u00e1<\/em> and Maria. You were still sleeping. And I watched some TV. And then I could hear the kids playing in the lane and I went out with them. And then you came.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter\u2019s father made that sound again with his cheek. He gazed at the burning butt in his hand and, after taking one last drag, stubbed it out in the ashtray. Straightening up in his chair, he stared at Peter silently. Then he seemed to say, \u201cGo and undress.\u201d<\/p>\n Certain that I\u2019d misheard, I glanced at Peter for clues as to what was going on. To my dismay, he got up and left the kitchen.<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Liako,\u201d I said, \u201cyou told me I would have my chance to speak.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes. You will speak to your parents. They are responsible for you. I am only responsible for my own children.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut what Panayoti told you is true. He didn\u2019t know anything about this. He was in the house and only came out after.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe knew enough. He knew what you did, and he didn\u2019t say anything. He went along. That\u2019s the same as doing it.\u201d He paused to take a sip of his beer. \u201cEe synenokh\u00ed e\u00ednai enokh\u00ed<\/em>,\u201d he said, which I had to look up later. It didn\u2019t have the same ring in English as it didn\u2019t rhyme. It meant \u201ccomplicity is guilt.\u201d Even with my head down, I could see Peter\u2019s father rise and remove his belt, while Peter pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and bent over it, the two of them moving and arranging themselves in what appeared a practiced, almost ritualized manner. \u201cTake off your underwear,\u201d I heard Peter\u2019s father say, and I turned even further away so that I could see nothing of them. For half a minute or so, which felt like an eternity, I could hear only the appalling reports of the belt, and, from Peter, the occasional low grunt or moan. He didn\u2019t plead, he didn\u2019t cry out. From what I could tell, he didn\u2019t even cry, which, given everything else I heard, seemed to me almost superhuman.<\/p>\n I sat in my chair paralyzed with fear and incomprehension. I was terrified I might be next. The situation was so senseless, anything seemed possible. I kept my head down and stared at a patch of sunlight by the balcony door where a caterpillar crept with slow undulations over the linoleum. Even after the noises stopped, I remained with my back turned, trying to decide what to do if Peter\u2019s father came after me. It seemed to me that I had every right to resist. I was sure my parents would support me. I tried to imagine how they would react if they learned I\u2019d been beaten by our neighbour.<\/p>\n Hearing Peter\u2019s father say, \u201cYou, you can go home now,\u201d I felt so relieved I burst into tears. When I rose to my feet, Peter was gone from the kitchen and his father had his belt back on. As I headed toward the shed, I heard him mutter, \u201cNo, this way,\u201d and, turning, I followed him through the living room to the front staircase. Not trusting my legs, I held tightly to the bannister as I made my way down.<\/p>\n All I could think about now was my uncle. I imagined he would have gotten the news. But our place was empty. I searched all the rooms and he wasn\u2019t there. I wondered if he was out looking for me. Given the hour, it was possible he may have already left for work. When I was sure I was alone, I went and lay on my bed and thought about all that had happened, and what was yet to come.<\/p>\n When I got up twenty minutes later, I went to the phone and called Tony. To my relief, one of his sisters answered and she put him on.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t believe what you did,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat I <\/em>did? It was your<\/em> idea.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re<\/em> the one who finked.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI had no choice.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you mean, you had no choice? No one would have known anything if you hadn\u2019t squealed.\u201d <\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t squeal. She knew already.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you mean she knew already? How could she know?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe knew. She could tell.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe could tell what? How could she tell? She couldn\u2019t tell anything until you<\/em> told. Cause you\u2019re a fucken baby. I never expected this from you. Do you know what you\u2019ve done?\u201d I kept flashing back to Peter and felt an overpowering urge to tell Tony what had happened. But I knew I would never tell anyone about it, ever. \u201cI bet you told your mother that it was all me, right? That it was all my idea and you had nothing to do with it. Or that I forced you into it. Right?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not allowed to leave the house for a week!\u201d Tony screamed. \u201cI\u2019m fucked! You know the beating I\u2019m gonna get when my father comes home? And I can\u2019t leave the house for a fucken week! A whole week!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat doesn\u2019t mean anything. It doesn\u2019t mean you didn\u2019t put it all on me. Your mother just didn\u2019t believe you. And I <\/em>don\u2019t believe you. We can\u2019t be friends anymore. I can\u2019t be friends with a traitor. And I want all my stuff back.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat stuff?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEverything. Everything I lent you. My comic books, my marbles, the microscope, the Spirograph, everything. I want everything back now. And the penny. The American penny you took from me today. I want that back.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou gave <\/em>it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s mine. I want it back. I want all my things back now<\/em>!\u201d I shouted.<\/p>\n \u201cThen come over and get them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, you\u2019re bringing them here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI just told you,\u201d he shouted back. \u201cI can\u2019t leave the house. What did I just tell you?\u201d<\/p>\n I remained silent, my fingers tight around the phone. I slammed it down. Five seconds later, I picked it up again and redialled Tony\u2019s number fast as I could.<\/p>\n \u201cOK,\u201d I said. \u201cNext week. As soon as you can leave the house, you have to bring me my stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFine,\u201d he said leadenly.<\/p>\n \u201cYou bring it here first thing in the morning.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFine.\u201d<\/p>\n That evening, the phone rang two minutes after my father got home and I knew immediately who it was. Jimmy\u2019s mother must have been at her window or balcony watching for him to arrive from the factory. My mother was in the kitchen and she had to interrupt her cooking so she and my father could go over to Jimmy\u2019s place.<\/p>\n I sat sightless before the TV, waiting for their return. They were there over half an hour.<\/p>\n We sat at the dining room table and my mother did all the talking. My father barely looked at me. He kept his eye on my mother or stared down at the table with a sombre but oddly inscrutable expression. There were moments I thought he was about to smile, but immediately his demeanour would darken again. My mother was grim-faced and clearly distraught. She didn\u2019t go into details about what the Gatakises had said or shown them, and I didn\u2019t ask because I didn\u2019t want to know.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat were you thinking?\u201d she said. \u201cWhat did you think was going to happen? Do you have any conception of the terror you caused that poor woman, threatening to kidnap her child?\u201d<\/p>\n I wanted to tell her that that wasn\u2019t what the note said, but I figured there was no point. On the other hand, it seemed worthwhile to mention that the pictures had come from Tony; but then I remembered that my mother hadn\u2019t said anything about the playing cards and it occurred to me that, to spare both herself and my parents embarrassment, Jimmy\u2019s mother may have kept quiet about these and that I should therefore not bring up something they didn\u2019t already know about, especially something so degenerate. For me, the cards were probably the most scandalous and shameful part of the whole episode.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd do you know the turmoil you caused the Jews?\u201d my mother continued as I stared at my lap and watched the tears staining my shorts. \u201cThey had to call all around to find out if anyone knew anything about this letter. Do you know that what you did has spread throughout the neighbourhood? Everyone knows about it. How does this make us look? What will people say of us? This is a dishonour not just on you but on your father and me as well. Can you see what you\u2019ve done? What this means? For all of us?\u201d<\/p>\n I kept staring at my lap and weeping.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t tell you how disappointed I am in you.\u201d These words cut deep. \u201cI never imagined you were capable of such thoughtlessness and cruelty.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd it\u2019s not over,\u201d said my father.<\/p>\n At this, I looked up. My mother also looked at him.<\/p>\n \u201cThe police want to talk to you,\u201d he said and, for an instant, my mother seemed to frown at him with what looked like an inquisitive expression.<\/p>\n \u201cTomorrow a detective will be coming by to speak with you,\u201d said my father.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere?\u201d I said, my heart pounding.<\/p>\n \u201cHere. At the house.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know. They want to talk to you.\u2019<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about Tony?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI suppose they\u2019ll speak to him at his<\/em> house. The detective wants to talk to the two of you separately. But I don\u2019t know when he\u2019s coming, so you have to make sure you\u2019re here when he arrives.\u201d<\/p>\n Seeing the panic on my face, my mother threw my father a look and took my hand and said, \u201cThey just want you to explain what happened. That\u2019s all. You just have to tell them the truth. OK? And your uncle will be here if you need anything.\u201d<\/p>\n By now I was sobbing uncontrollably, and my mother pulled me up and hugged me.<\/p>\n \u201cEverything will be fine, don\u2019t worry.\u201d<\/p>\n That night I couldn\u2019t get to sleep. I couldn\u2019t stop thinking about the detective and about what he might ask and what would happen to me. In the morning I could hear my father getting ready for work, but I remained in bed pretending to be asleep until both my parents had left. When I got up, I stayed in the house, as instructed. Feeling sick, I ate almost nothing all day and tried to watch TV and to read, but every few minutes I had to go to the front window to look for that detective or the police. I could see my friends playing outside, though I never caught sight of Tony. I imagined they all knew not to ring either of our doorbells.<\/p>\n Of course no police or detective ever showed up.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Dinga<\/b>
\n
\n
\nI got up and, making sure I had my key, shut the front door. I sat back down beside Tony and slipped him the envelope. \u201cI\u2019ll go across the street so I can have a clear view of Jimmy\u2019s house,\u201d I said. \u201cIf I see anything, I\u2019ll whistle. So if you hear me whistle, don\u2019t do anything. Just turn around and come back, acting normal, and if we can we\u2019ll try again later.\u201d I glanced up and down the street and saw a pappo\u00fa<\/em> with a cane hobbling in our direction. \u201cOK,\u201d I said, getting up, \u201cI\u2019ll go across to the church and after this guy goes by, you go over to Jimmy\u2019s place, but, remember, don\u2019t run or anything. Act normal. Walk normally. And after you put the letter in, walk back down normally. Don\u2019t run. And come back here<\/em>. Don\u2019t go where I am across the street. We\u2019ll meet here.\u201d
\n As the old man went by, I passed behind him and, waiting for a break in the traffic, ran across to the Black church. It was just a regular stone duplex and looked nothing like a church. I didn\u2019t know then, and still don\u2019t know now, what denomination it was, but I\u2019d heard Greek parents disdainfully refer to the people who went there as evangelist\u00e9s<\/em>. I gathered that these evangelist\u00e9s<\/em>, despite their name, were somehow not real Christians, and maybe even a threat to Christianity. And I could see why. In the summer, when they kept the church\u2019s front door open, it was amazing what you saw and heard inside. The masses were nothing like ours. Up front, there would be singers and guys with electric guitars and basses playing what sounded like rock music, and people would be dancing and clapping. People seemed to be having fun. Our masses were the opposite of fun. Our masses made you think fun was a sin. We were welcome in the Black church and occasionally some of us would go and sit in one of the back rows. Sometimes we\u2019d hang out on the steps and some of the older Black men would talk to us and tell us about Jesus and the bible and why the things we believed were wrong. Once, an old man in a yellow bow tie said to Manny de Souza, \u201cRain\u2019t no such place as limbo, boy,\u201d and stupid Manny went and told his parents, and after that he wasn\u2019t allowed to go into the church again.<\/p>\n
\n
\n
\n \u201cI beg you, boys, if it was you, tell me now. You won\u2019t be in any trouble. I just need to know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n
\n
\nI fell silent again. Why not? \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I said. \u201cBut the main thing is no one knows anything about this but us. So if anyone asks, we don\u2019t know anything. That\u2019s the main thing. They can\u2019t\u2014oh fuck<\/em>!\u201d I just then remembered. \u201cPeter!<\/em> You fucken went and told Peter! Fucken shit!\u201d<\/p>\n
\n
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\nI stared at the tablecloth, studying the stitching of one of the flowers. A moment later, I noticed Peter approaching from the living room, and, looking up, I saw him dressed in nothing but a pair of white cotton briefs. He didn\u2019t even have any socks on. Immediately I looked away.<\/p>\n
\nfrom the forthcoming novel<\/em>, “I Did not Ask to be Born”
\n\u201cDinga has asked me to marry him.\u201d
\nKhethiwe glanced at me as though I had just announced that Popi our dog, had birthed a goat. She sucked her teeth, and vigorously rubbed soap onto ubaba\u2019s white shirt, scrubbing it and dunking it into the dish of opaque water vigorously like she was trying to drown it.
\n\u201cHe says he wants me to have his baby\u201d.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":4281,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[14],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-89","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/89","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=89"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/89\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4487,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/89\/revisions\/4487"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/4281"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=89"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=89"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=89"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}