\"DO You KNOW WHAT arm candy is?\" Nora s cousin Har- lan asked, juggling her suitcases as he signaled a cab on Seventh Avenue. There d been a taxi stand right outside Pennsylvania Station, but Harlan had suggested they walk to his place, since it was so dose; the heavy luggage had changed his mind. \"Arm candy?\" Nora squinted against searing sun- shine--a shock to the retinas after the subterranean lab- yrinth of Penn Stationwto take in the pandemonium of midtown Manhattan on this radiant, early September af- ternoon. \"Is that, like, drugs?\" \"That s one meaning.\" He waved a cab over. \"What s with the gawking?\" The cab swung to a stop in front of them, its trunk popping open when the driver spied the suitcases. Stowing them away, Harlan said, \"It s not like you ve never been in a big city before.\" \"Cleveland s minor league compared to this.\" Nora tossed her army surplus knapsack into the back seat and slid in after it, followed by Harlan, who gave the driver his address in the recently revi~azed Manhattan neigh- borhood of Chelsea. The cab pulled away from the curb into a creeping morass of traffic. I get it,\" I-Iarlan said. \"This move to New York is some kind of personal test for you. If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere?\" \"Hey, you made it here.\" Nora gave him a playful
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