I didn’t think we’d locate Eve and Mason the first day we arrived, but now that we’ve been here four days, I’m getting anxious.
At first, we had to get our bearings, arrange for transportation, find a place to stay, and yada-yada. Logistical arrangements are executed for Levi and me by Prianka Alahnjari. She arranged a private jet to fly us to Recife, and she’s accompanying us on our search. I’d call Prianka a personal assistant, except that the job title brings to mind a grad student who works for someone rich, cataloguing art books and pasting photos in photo albums and catching heck if the household runs out of Mandarin oranges. That’s not Prianka. She’s a scary-smart professional who makes Levi’s life operate without the ordinary frictions of daily living. Prianka is the person who turns our favorite Mayor-Elect into a perpetual motion machine.
At the moment, though, Prianka is highly peeved. Prianka thinks Levi’s running off to Brazil right at the time he’s supposed to be assembling his Mayoral administration is political suicide. His inauguration takes place precisely one week from today, a fact she works into every third sentence. Most of the time she doesn’t speak directly to Levi; her orders and information about what he needs to know or do is sent through constant updates to his calendar. Every time she alerts him to a scheduling change, his phone rings out with a “ding” that sounds indignant and self-righteous.
Me, she doesn’t speak to at all.
Jill Riddell is a writer in Chicago. She teaches at the School of the Art Institute and has a weakness for nature, magic, and pennies abandoned in sidewalk cracks.