I WAS IN MAMA'S arguing with Max over his stunt with Morales when the phone rang in the back.
"Young girl," Mama sad, sitting down.
I picked up the receiver. "What?"
"It's me. Elvira. You said to call today. I told you I would."
"I need to talk to you. About your mother. About Train."
"Go ahead."
"Not on the phone."
"Maybe you can come here. I'll ask…"
"Never mind. I can come there, but I want to talk in private. Tell me where you'll be, I'll pick you up."
"I'm not sure…"
"Not sure where you'll be or…"
"I'm not leaving here."
"Elvira, I wanted you out of there, you'd be out of there. I'm going to talk with you, one way or the other."
"I'm not afraid of you."
"I don't want you to be afraid of me. I want to talk to you."
"And then…"
"And then you go back to wherever you want to go. And you never see me again. Okay?"
A long pause. I wondered who else was listening, signaling to her.
"Okay," she finally said into the phone. "Where and when?"
"Tomorrow morning. On the corner of Flatbush and Tillary. The Brooklyn side of the Manhattan Bridge. Ten o'clock."
"How long will I be?"
"Couple of hours."
"Goodbye," she said. Hung up.