Will a young man's attempt to protect his sister force him to make an impossible choice?

The day Lila came home, Nick broke into his father's desk and stole the pistol that his father had hidden there. He could have asked his older brother Max for the key to the desk, but he knew that Max would never agree to his plan for protecting Lila. It had to be a secret.

He wished that he and Max could fight the gangsters together if they came to take her away again, shooting them down one by one on the grimy concrete stairs before they could reach their apartment door. He wished and Max could save her together. 

Max would say that might work in a movie but not in real life, and he would take the gun away, because he believed violence was sinful, and because he was a coward.

Nick slipped the gun into the inner pocket of his jacket and came downstairs. He paused in the kitchen doorway. The kitchen was yellow with evening light, just as it had been that evening two years ago, the evening Lila didn't come home because Tony Nelson, the leader of the biggest gang in their part of the city, had kidnapped her.

That evening, Nick had walked into the kitchen to see Max sitting at the table, his head in his hands. Max looked up when he came in. His eyes were red and wet behind his glasses. "She's in God's hands now," he said.

"No, she isn't," Nick said. "She's in Tony Nelson's hands. But we're going to bring her back tonight." 

"We can't do that, Nick. It's not as simple as you think. I wish I could explain..."

"Explain what?"

"Never mind. God will protect her even if we can't. And we can't, right now. You're going with the parents when they move, aren't you?"

Nick stared. Max's question was so unexpected that it made no sense.

"I've been talking it over with Dad and Mom. We all think you should go too when they move and finish school in the new city. Of course Mary's going."

"Max, are you crazy? What makes you think I would leave when my twin sister has just been kidnapped? What kind of brother do you think I am?" Nick screamed at him.

"We want you to be safe."

"Who's we?"

"Father and Mother...and me, of course."

"I think Lila is the one you should be worried about right now, not me." 

Nick ran out of the kitchen to cry in their bedroom. He couldn't bear to let Max see his tears, because that night Max didn't seem like his brother anymore. He seemed, in some terrifying and confusing way, to be on the gangsters' side.

* * *

Nick had been sixteen then, and when Max said they couldn't possibly rescue Lila, he had believed him. Now he was eighteen, and the weight of the pistol in his pocket was a promise to himself that Tony Nelson would die before he touched Lila again.

Tonight, Lila, not Max, sat alone at the kitchen table, cross-legged in her chair, her lap a nest for her swollen stomach. Nick studied her, comparing the woman he saw now with the sister he remembered. She was still wearing the heart-shaped crystal earrings that he'd given her on their sixteenth birthday. She had the same kind of clothes too, threadbare jeans and a black tee shirt. Her eyes were still brown, just like his. Was it her eyes that made her seem like a different person?

She looked up when he came in. "Hi, Nick. Come and get something to eat. It's almost seven," she said.

Nick walked to the window and put his arm across her shoulders. "Won't you tell me how you are, Lila? And what happened? Tell me how you got away."

She leaned her head on his shoulder, cradling her stomach in her hands. "There isn't much to tell. Last night Tony took me with him when he went to the bar with some of his friends. One of his favorite bars is downtown. We rode the subway down. When we got off, it was really crowded at the station, everyone was milling around trying to get home from work. I just walked away from them. Jesus must have sent an angel to hide me. Tony didn't stop me. I don't think anybody even noticed that I was gone."

She shifted backwards with a little grunt.

"Is that a gun in your pocket?"

"What? How could you tell?" His hand flew to his chest.

"It's obvious, Nick. You haven't changed much, have you? You could never hide anything." She poked the hard bulge.

Nick pulled out the pistol and studied it. It was mesmerizing, both ugly and elegant, frightening and enticing. And one squeeze of the trigger had the power to make everything right again, if Max didn't interfere.

"I agree with Max," said Lila.

"How did you know I was thinking about Max?"

"I know you," Lila smiled. "When he said that it's never a sin to suffer violence, only to do it, he was right."

"It isn't a sin when it's for someone you love."

He got up and started to walk away. Lila grabbed his coat sleeve and tugged him back to her.

"Nick, promise you won't do anything wrong. I would rather spend the rest of my life with Tony then spend the rest of it knowing you did something terrible for me. Put the gun back. I'll talk with Max before I leave and we'll make a good plan."

"You can't leave, you just got home, Lila! Where would you go, anyway?"

"Maybe Virginia," Lila laughed, then sat up straight, her eyes widening. "Oh, now she's kicking! Do you want to feel her?"

She put Nick's hand on her stomach. Through the balloon-taut skin, Nick could feel something that might be a tiny foot, jabbing, pushing, exploring.

Lila put her hand over Nick's. "It's Tony's baby," she said. "When I first realized I was pregnant, I couldn't think of the thing inside me as a baby. It was just a mass, like cancer, growing bigger and bigger. Then one day she started to wiggle, and kick. She started to feel real, and I realized I might love her."

"She?"

"Well, I don't know if it's a girl, but I really want a girl. I've prayed. I think a girl would feel more mine, less his. But we'll find out any day now. Speaking of that, I need to talk with Max and make a plan. Does he usually work late these days?"

"Sometimes he doesn't come home at all."

"I need to talk with him soon. I shouldn't have come back here. I might be putting you in danger by being here. But I didn't know where else to go."

"Of course you should have come back here. It's your home."

"Max is going to say I need to leave, Nick, and he's right. He knows what he's doing. Father left him in charge here for a reason. If I trust him, why can't you?"

Nick didn't answer. If he opened his mouth it would be like uncapping a shaken bottle of soda, and if he let all his sadness and anger and hatred of Max's cowardice come foaming out, he might hurt Lila too. He jumped off the windowsill and ran out of the kitchen, and out of the house.

On the doorstep he nearly collided with Max, who was talking with a man just outside the door. The conversation stopped abruptly as Nick appeared, and the man walked away.

"Lila's home. She wants to talk with you. She's in the kitchen now," said Nick.

"She came back! How is she?" Max asked. He didn't look happy, he looked worried.

"Oh, I'm sure she's just fine." Nick hoped the jagged edge of his voice cut.

"Did she say much?"

"She's pregnant."

"Oh."

"What are we going to do this time when Tony shows up?"

"I don't think he will."

"But what will you do if he does? Will you just fold your hands in a pious pose and say, 'Welcome to her, I won't stop you, I'm a sinless saint and I couldn't hurt a fly?' Like last time."

"Nick, that is not what happened last time."

"Yes it is. You let Tony take her because for some reason all you really care about is saving your own skin. Because you're scared."

The tears that sometimes embarrassed Nick when he was angry welled up and ran down his cheeks. He scraped them away.

Max's voice stayed calm. "You know that's not true. I wish it hadn't been Lila, but I have a job to do, and there have been times when doing it has put everyone in our family in danger. Why do you think the parents and Mary are in Virginia? I can't explain everything to you right now. If I could, I already would have."

Nick tried again. He wanted Max to get angry too, maybe even hit him. He wanted holy Max to yell and cry too. He wanted him to break things, or fight.

"What do you mean, you have a job to do? You mean you've got to drive some fat old lady to the hairdresser's on time while Tony is probably coming to get Lila? Be sure you say a prayer for him then, because if he comes here he just might end up dead."

Max sighed. "Yes, I'm going to be busy. But I doubt Tony will come here. I heard he's down at Truthteller's--and I suspect his evening will be busy too." 

He put his hand on Nick's shoulder. Nick stepped back. "Don't touch me," he said through his teeth. Max's hand dropped. His fingertips rested on Nick's chest, over the gun. 

Max paused. "Nick, God is watching over Lila, and all of us. Can I trust you not to do anything foolish? "

* * *

Walk into the bar—shoot Tony Nelson—walk out, a killer. That was Nick's plan. Simple. Maybe it was foolish. It was better to be foolish for a good reason than to be a coward. If Tony really was at Truthtellers Bar. He had no idea how Max would know that, but Max probably heard a lot, driving around all over the city. He probably met strange people and heard a lot of interesting things.

Tony would have bodyguards, of course, but they would probably be drunk, or at least not paying much attention. 

When people heard the shot and saw Tony fall, chaos would break out, yelling, tables knocked over, drinks spilled, just like in a movie. If he was quick enough, as quick as a Wild West hero, he would be able to get away before anyone realized what he had done. And then someday soon he and Max and Lila would be able to join the rest of the family in Virginia. 

Nick hung the colored pencil drawings that his little sister Mary sometimes sent on the refrigerator. There were drawings of her riding horseback, picking apples, swimming in a wide green river. Nick was glad he hadn't gone with them. He was glad he had stayed to wait for Lila to come home, but now she was home, and Nick hoped that if Virginia ever happened for him, he would get a chance to ride a horse too.

The sun was almost gone, but heat still rippled a few feet above the pavement as Nick walked toward the bus stop. The sunset was fading to gray, matching the tones of the cement box apartments that made up his neighborhood, yellow gray, blue gray, green gray. The only bright colors came from the bits of trash on the street—red cans, yellow wrappers—and in the cigarette advertisement on the side of the bus he hailed—a woman stretching her tanned body across a raft floating in a turquoise sea.

Fifteen, twenty minutes on the bus, and another ten minutes' walk, because he'd gotten off early. Halting the squeaking, huffing bus right in front of Tony's hangout and stepping out seemed too risky. He paused on the sidewalk for a moment and stroked the gun in his pocket, thinking.

Three men were standing together under a street lamp, smoking, directly across the street from Truthtellers, a low building with a dirty green awning and windows painted black. They were lookouts for Tony, probably. How was he going to avoid them when he came out? 

If Max were with him, if they were working together, Max would have made a good plan. Had Max guessed what he was going to do? Probably not, or he would have taken the gun. Anyway, when Tony was dead, nothing Max said would matter at all, because Lila would be safe. He fixed his mind on that thought and walked into the bar. 

Dance music pulsed in the floor, shaking shards of light from glass and metal and mirrors but the room was dark. Nobody was dancing. Most people were standing in a half circle at the other end of the room. Nick looked around, scanning the faces until he saw Tony Nelson, who was sitting on the bar counter with a girl in a black leather miniskirt. She draped one leg over his lap and held a glass to his lips for him to drink. Nick wondered if Lila had ever had to do that.

Tony was handsome, neat dark beard, strong chin, steely blue eyes, so Lila's baby would probably be beautiful. But Tony deserved to die.

Nick slipped his hand inside his jacket. As his hand closed on the pistol, he realized he wasn't going to kill Tony after all. He couldn't. No matter what had happened, no matter what was going to happen now, he could not look into Tony's face and pull the trigger. If he shot Tony, all the times he'd told himself he was the better, braver brother would mean nothing. All the times he'd told Lila how much he cared about her would mean nothing. After a sin like murder, maybe even him existing at all, as a person, as a brother, would mean nothing. 

Tony Nelson stood up and walked with a lithe swagger across the room, straight towards Nick. Nick watched him come, his hand on the pistol in his pocket. He hoped Tony wouldn't think he was shaking because he was afraid.

Tony spoke first. "Well, Nick, I see you've grown up. Eighteen now, same as Lila."

"Don't talk about my sister," Nick said. At least his voice was not shaking.

"Oh?" Tony looked amused. "Well, you've certainly got guts coming here and telling me not to talk about your sister. To tell the truth, it's your brother I want most right now."

"Max? What do you mean?"

"He's been causing me trouble for several years now, and I'm getting tired of it. He seems to know what I'm planning to do as soon as I do. He's always tipping off the police, interfering with my drug dealers, disappearing with people I'm...interested in. He even landed me in jail once. So I'll make a bargain with you. You get rid of a problem of mine, and I'll get rid of one of yours. Kill Max, and I'll forget about Lila. Simple."

A chill went down Nick's back. He opened his mouth, but no words came. 

Tony shrugged. "I think I'm being fair, giving you a choice. I'll even give you time to think it over, as we escort you back to your house." He smiled. "I see you already have a gun."

* * *

Nick stood over his sleeping brother. Max stirred, turning over onto his back. His blanket slid down a little, exposing the knife scar that ran across his collarbone and right shoulder. Nick remembered how he had surprised Max in the bathroom late one night and Max had snatched up his shirt and held it to his chest like an embarrassed girl, knocking the bottle of iodine into the sink. Nick had made fun of him, not realizing what the gauze, the bottle of iodine staining the sink, must mean. Max had never told him what had happened that night, and Nick had never thought much about it, until now. 

He felt the eyes of the Madonna and baby Jesus on him as he always did when he entered Max's bedroom. The ikon, peeling paint and gold leaf on wood, had hung above Max's bed as long as he could remember. Jesus' little face him gazed at him peacefully. Jesus must understand that having to choose between a brother and a sister felt like being crucified. "Help me," Nick whispered. But he had planned to commit a terrible sin, maybe the worst possible sin. Why should he deserve a miracle?

Nick bent over Max and set the barrel of the pistol against his brother's chest. He clenched his teeth. If he pulled the trigger, the bullet would go straight through Max's heart. Then he would go outside to where Tony and his thugs waited and tell them that Max was—no. He couldn't even finish the thought in his mind.

Nick slid the gun back inside his coat pocket and crawled into bed beside his brother, curling up against him like he used to do when he was younger and had a bad dream. The minutes slipped by and he lay motionless against Max, listening to him breathe, praying for the angel with wings of thunder that God still might send at the very last minute to save them all.

The door handle rattled. Nick closed his eyes. Inside his mind he saw Tony striding across the room, riddling Max with bullets as he lay in his bed. He saw him dragging Lila away in her nightgown. He heard her scream.

Nick leaped across the room, wrenched the door open and raised the gun. It was Lila, and she really did scream, her eyes wide with surprise and fear. She snatched at the gun. The shot seemed loud enough to shatter the windows.

Lila staggered backwards. She clung to the door frame, her knees buckling. He could see a wet stain between the legs of her gray sweatpants. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and upper lip. Her breath came in slow, shuddering gasps.

"Oh, dear Jesus. Lila!"

White plaster dust sprinkled down on them and Nick looked up at the hole he had made in the ceiling.

Lila straightened, laughing shakily. "Nick, I'm fine. It's called a contraction. I'm in labor. You or Max need to take me to the hospital. The baby is on her way."

The sound of the gunshot had brought Max leaping out of bed. He fumbled for his glasses on the bedside table.

"Max, Tony's dowstairs." Nick said.

"What? He wasn't arrested?" Max paused as he scooped his clothes from the floor. "They said they'd call if he got away. I was sure we would have him behind bars for good after tonight."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's no time," Max exlaimed. "Tony's here for me, Nick. He only took Lila to make me leave him alone."

"You rescued other people. Why didn't you try to rescue her?" Nick demanded. Knowing about Max's secret life only sharpened the pain of the question that had hurt him for almost two years.

"Tony told me that if I tried to get her back, he would kill you. And I was afraid that if I explained everything to you, you'd run off and try to give yourself up in exchange for her, and then he would have you both."

Was Max about to cry? No. 

"Listen," Max continued, "The money for the trip toVirginia is in the freezer in a clear plastic bag. Underneath the frozen peas. But you'll need to get Lila to the hospital first. Do you think you can help her down the fire escape? Here. The keys." He tossed Nick his key ring. "My taxi's parked out back, just to the right of the trash bins."

"It's my fault Tony's here. I brought them here." Nick said, forcing himself to breathe slowly. "Tony told me if I killed you he would leave Lila alone. He heard that gunshot, so he probably thinks I did. Let me go down and talk to them and maybe they'll leave."

"No."

"Yes! Just go. Get out! Get Lila to the hospital." Nick waved the gun at him. "Please, trust me." There was no one whose trust he deserved less, but Max might still love him enough to try, and if someone had to die for Nick's foolishness, it would not be Max.

Max nodded. "All right, then, do what you can, and God will do the rest." 

Before Max could change his mind, Nick ran down the stairs toward the front door. He had maybe two minutes to stall Tony and his men before they realized he was lying and Max wasn't dead. Two minutes didn't seem like enough time to help a pregnant woman climb out a second story window and down a fire escape. And what if Tony had sent someone around to the back to block that way out?

Nick stepped outside onto the landing and closed the apartment door behind him. Tony was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with several other men behind him. He looked up at Nick, smiling. "You've done me a great favor. If you will excuse us, we'll only be inside a minute," he said.

"Max is dead. You don't need to come in."

"It will only be a minute." Tony put his foot on the first step. Nick walked down the steps toward him. "You're not coming in," he repeated. He stretched out his arms across the stairway, and braced his feet. 

Tony lunged toward Nick, grabbed the front of his jacket to pull him out of the way. Then Tony looked up. His hand slipped down. He stared at Nick, stared past him, his face frozen. His eyes flashed white with terror. Then he gasped and collapsed backwards down the steps to the ground, where he lay without moving. 

Nick never looked back as he leaped down the stairs and dodged past the other men as they shielded their faces and cringed against the wall. He was terrified that he might really see an angel.

* * *

At the hospital, Nick sat by Lila's bed and cradled the fuzzy bundle that was Kaylee. He studied the tiny hand that clutched his thumb, each finger tipped with a pink nail, until Max returned from his return trip to their house, carrying a box of the family treasures, their mother's china tea set, their parents' wedding photos. There was no sign of Tony or any of the other gangsters, he said. No sign of the angel that had certainly been there. 

Nick didn't think even Max would be able to look an angel in the face.

* * *

Nick slumped in the passenger seat as Max's taxi braked and crawled its way through morning traffic. As they crossed the bridge, Nick leaned over and touched his brother's arm.

"Can you pull over a minute? There's something I need to get rid of." He stepped out and climbed over the bridge railing onto the walkway. Behind him the noise of traffic blurred into a steady roar. Above him the pigeons that perched on the spanners of the bridge cooed and preened. A few feathers drifted down towards the river below. Nick slid the gun out from inside his coat. He held it out and let go. He watched as it hit the gray water, a tiny plume of white, like a pigeon feather.

Then he climbed back into the taxi, leaned over the gear shift towards Max, wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his brother's shoulder.