32
Toronto 1961
I parked the Chevy in the rear of the building. Birdie leaned up against the driver’s door, arms casually crossed. He straightened up as Miryam and I approached.
“Hello big man,” Miryam said.
“Miryam,” he responded. He turned to me. “You had company, so I thought I’d better stick around.”
I squinted up at him. Birdie had excellent instincts. Far better than mine.
“Good.”
We all piled in. Birdie drove to Aunt Helen’s place in silence. Miryam hid behind a pair of dark glasses. It went with the dark clothes she wore. And the mood between us. Blood was thick, that’s what it told me.
That bond was about to be tested. A block from Helen’s, I noticed people milling and saw a small sea of hats. Black hats.
“Pull up,” I said. I opened the passenger door, sauntered toward th
