Thursday, July 25, 2013


Saving Toby… Location, location, location…


20 Year-old Claudia POV:

After the divorce, my mother had followed a job to California, and my Dad and I had become a team. We'd weathered three years without her, still in the house I’d grown up in, in the small town of Sayville, about a half-mile from the Great South Bay on the south shore of Long Island.


Lands End parking lot on the Great South Bay, Sayville, NY


The corner of Roosevelt Avenue and Easy Street, Sayville
















         “Remember the Fayes? On Roosevelt Avenue?”
Without pause, my father said, “You are not working for Al Faye.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dad, the man’s dead. And Mrs. Faye is very sick.”
“Well, that’s a shame.” Dad pointed. “Set the table. If I remember correctly, there were two boys. One’s a convicted felon. Where’s the other one?”
“Toby is still there.” I went to the cabinet and took out dishes.
“What’s his story? He’s been in trouble?”
“I don’t think so. You’d know, wouldn’t you?”
“Ah, probably just a matter of time before we arrest him for something.” Dad added some salt to the pot and tasted it.
“That’s not a nice thing to say,” I chided him.
“I don’t want you there, in that environment,” he said.
“Unless the older son breaks out of jail, I think I’ll be safe.”
“In seriously damaged families like theirs, the residual effects always spiral down to the kids. The older boy was ruined and, mark my words, if there is trouble to be found, the younger boy is going to find it, too.”




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