A Bad Night's Sleep

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Thank you to Julie and Sam, for reading, rereading, and advising; George and Sally, for teaching me more than a few things along the way; Dave, for making me look better in lights than I might otherwise look; Isaac, Maya, and Elias, for keeping me laughing; Philip and Lukas, for representing and advocating for this, that, and everything better than anyone else; and Toni and Ruth, for making everything right.

THE SOUTHSHORE CORPORATION OWNED a seven-block chunk of land on the south side of Chicago. If they’d let it sit for twenty years, it would have turned back into the prairie that had stood there a couple of centuries ago. Thirty years and you could’ve put on a coonskin hat and gone deer hunting. But the Southshore Corporation hadn’t let the land sit. Two weeks after the owners signed the final contracts, workers had poured the foundations for a mix of single-unit houses and condo blocks that the corporation was advertising as Southshore Village. The corporation promised to build a small town in the middle of the city. The brochures included a picture of kids playing baseball on a cul-de-sac and another of a middle-aged man and woman sitting on a porch swing. The faces were black, white, brown, and yellow. It was a pretty dream and the Southshore Corporation had the money to make it come true.

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